CAMHS: A legacy of pain
As I write this, our petition to try and trigger positive change in CAMHS for the way the treat Autistic children sits at around 212,000 signatures. That is not far off of a quarter of a million people for whom their systemic failures are more than a story or uncomfortable truth. For these people, myself, and others like us, these failures represent some of the darkest and most life-changing experiences that can happen. I trace back my life and can see that CAMHS failures sent me down a pipeline towards suffering that too many Autistic people experience. I have often lamented that suffering should not be a core Autistic experience, and yet CAMHS failures are such that countless Autistic children are forced out of the innocence of childhood. This is the story of a legacy borne of systemic injustice and incompetent professionals.
CAMHS legacy in my own life
By the time I was referred to CAMHS, I had already tried to take my own life. I was undiagnosed Autistic and could not understand or make sense of the way the world treated me. I had experienced multiple forms of abuse, been bullied relentlessly, and faced accusations of lying when I tried to explain why school was harmful for me. CAMHS should have been my greatest advocate. I couldn’t engage in the way services wanted me to, so I was discharged.
This meant at age 18 when i started hearing voices, it was not professionals I turned to, but alcohol, cannabis, and other drugs. By my mid-twenties, I was addicted to oxycodone, spice, and valium. In one year, I overdosed in excess of 65 times. My body was so broken from self-medicating that I had to walk with a stick and was frequently being admitted to hospital with life threatening seizures.
The pain this caused me and my family was avoidable. Had CAMHS supported me in childhood, I might not have got to that point. I might have trusted professionals. I might not have buried my pain in a slow suicide that very nearly took me from this world. That was the legacy of CAMHS in my own life.
The pain of the whole family
My story, I believe, is painful enough, but it’s not just my story. My family and friends had to watch me waste away. My mother and sister were the ones who planned my funeral when I was little more than a husk of a person. The systemic failings that almost ended my life did great harm to those around me also. Mothers and fathers lose children. Children lose siblings. Friends lose each other.
The legacy of pain that CAMHS deliver when they fail Autistic people is shared among numerous people. It ripples out like a stone dropped into a pond. At this point, so many stones have been dropped in the pond that it is more like an ocean, buffered by hurricane force winds. When we look at the mental health crisis among Autistic people, we have to recognise that it also includes our families. When CAMHS fail an Autistic child, they fail everyone who loves and cares for that child.
A change for CAMHS on the horizon?
While times may seem bleak, I do believe there is a glimmer of hope shining between the clouds of a stormy sky. Each day, the Autistic community becomes stronger. Every time people share articles like this one, attitudes shift ever so slightly. Little by little, we create a world where positive change is possible.
A singular drop of water makes very little difference to stone. Given enough time, and a multitude of drops, even stone gives way to the waters of change. Each of us is a droplet in an ocean of change. Each article share, each petition signature, each protest. Every single time we speak up for ourselves. They are all droplets of change shaping a better future for our community.
The CAMHS that exists now may seem cold and uncaring, but with time and patience, with a health dose of positive action, we can change it. Now is the moment to tell the system that its time is up. Now is the time to say we want a better world. Now is the time to make a better world. Not just for us or our children, but every generation thereafter.
