I spent a period of time in hospital. I think I was depressed, but I don’t fully remember. I just remember getting into a car with my suitcase and staff from the home treatment team. I was being taken somewhere totally new, alien and strange to me. I was admitted to Bethlem, which is in the middle of nowhere and ages away from home. I was in a ward with people who were confusing to me, and everything felt very surreal. The night after I got discharged I went out. I remember not wanting to go, but I went anyway.
I played a lot of 90s music on YouTube to myself to try and get in the mood for drinking, and going somewhere I’d never been with people I hardly knew. I suppose a part of me knew I shouldn’t have gone, but I went. I went and I got arrested by the end of the night. My life changed for the next 6 years unless I re-offend, in which case it will affect the rest of my life. I don’t remember committing ‘the act’ and I was unfairly represented at the station. I accepted the caution just so I could get out of there but I knew, I shouldn’t have been discharged, I shouldn’t have gone out and now, it is going to be incredibly difficult to get my old camp job back- or work with children again.
From that night on I gained a line of information on my DBS and a permanent mark on my mental health record for violence.
Still now, today, I’m paying the price for that night.