“Successful people recognize crisis as a time for change - from lesser to greater, smaller to bigger.”
Edwin Louis
Cole
*This
is Part One of Three*
It’s common knowledge and widely recognised in the mental health
community that recognising you need help is the first, largest, and most
important step, in recovery. It’s really what actually puts you on the path or
what begins the journey of recovery for your mental health. It takes a great
amount of bravery and strength to say to someone “I need your help” or “I need
the help of the Crisis Team” and I think this is largely because it comes with –
for a lot of people – the connotation that it’s some sort of sign of weakness
or defeat. As though you’re ‘admitting’ that you can’t get better by yourself,
that you can’t fix things for yourself…
So, below are five ways to remind yourself and others that you deserve
help and have every right to ask for it…
1. It
Takes Strength to Be Vulnerable
Opening
up about your struggles requires courage. Admitting you're not okay and
choosing to do something about it shows self-awareness and bravery—not
weakness.
2. Everyone Needs Support Sometimes
Mental
health is like physical health—we all have it, and it fluctuates. Just as you’d
see a doctor for a physical illness, seeking help for emotional or
psychological challenges is responsible and normal.
3. It’s a Step Toward Growth
Seeking
help means you're choosing to confront what's difficult rather than ignore it.
That’s an active step toward healing and self-improvement, not defeat.
4. You’re Taking Control, Not
Giving Up
Getting
help doesn’t mean you’ve lost—it means you're taking charge of your life,
making a decision to improve it, and refusing to stay stuck.
5. You Deserve to Feel Better
Asking for help reflects self-respect, not failure.
You matter—and making your well-being a priority is a sign of self-worth, not
weakness.
__________________________________________________________________________________
I remember when the auditory hallucinations first began in 2009, I was
so terrified at the thought of what professionals – namely my GP who was the
only person I thought would be appropriate to tell in terms of a professional
and someone to seek actual, help from – would do to me if I told them/asked for
help for it. Growing up, I’d heard – not from my Mum or family – so much gossip
and so many rumours about our local psychiatric hospital and people would talk
about how people in white coats would come get you, lock you away in there,
restrain you, and give you electric shocks. And at that time, there was
literally nothing on the news and in the media in terms of stories around the
topic of mental health so there was no alternative resource that could tell me
something different. No way of correcting things and providing a true story and
insight into what those hospitals really were like and the type of help they do
provide. Now to confront any suspicion of misinformation these days about your
local psychiatric services, I’d recommend checking out their website – NHS Trusts
typically have individual sites too so you shouldn’t have to trawl through looking
for your locality! Sometimes, you’ll find photos and even video tours of their
community buildings and inpatient wards or site maps of their hospitals such as
this one from my local mental health NHS Trust: Cumbria, Northumberland, Tyne
and Wear NHS Foundation Trust (CNTW): St. George's Park
Map | Northumberland, Tyne and Wear NHS Foundation Trust.
After making my
first suicide attempt and being detained under Section 2 of the 1983 Mental
Health Act, I was forcibly given the life-saving antidote medical treatment for
what I had done, and then transferred to a CNTW psychiatric hospital. I
remember when I first ventured out of my bedroom and into the communal sitting
room and saw literally three or four women either muttering to themselves or
talking to an empty space in front of them. I made the judgment that they could
also hear voices and, having turned 18 just months earlier, this led to the
recognition that if I didn’t get help, I was going to end up still in hospital
at their age (I’d guess 30’s). So, I confided in a Psychiatric Nurse, and she
immediately called my Psychiatrist who deemed my admission as a good sign and within
days, discharged me from both the section and the hospital.
Just months
later, that same Psychiatrist was in my bedroom at my Mum’s home being one of
the two Psychiatrists who did a Mental Health Act assessment on me and once
again, detained me under Section 2. He said to me “I think it’s time we try a
medication for these voices,” and, in all honesty, I was filled with the
thought ‘why the hell didn’t I think to ask for that?!’ Like, why had I let it
get to yet another suicide attempt? One which required that same life-saving medical
treatment and which – my refusal to have – led to this huge drama of all these
professionals in my Mum’s home sectioning me and then 8 Police carrying me from
the home to take me to my local A&E, where 6 psychiatric staff were waiting
to restrain me whilst I was sedated and given the treatment… How had I not
thought to just speak to my GP or Community Psychiatric Nurse (CPN) about
medication? I mean, just months before that first attempt, I had been offered a
place at university which was very difficult to get into, to study a Law degree;
so, it wasn’t like I was stupid! Naïve maybe, but not stupid. And eventually, I
came to realise that this just illustrated how lost I was in the hallucinations
and how poorly my mental health in general, really was.
I spent the
following three years (2009 – 2012) in and out of both medical and psychiatric
hospitals and the thing which became most relevant to this blog post was that
these hallucinations would tell me to kill myself, so I’d do something. But
then, when that act was completed, they’d be happy and go quiet. And when they
were silent or I felt they were not there at all, I didn’t want to be dead and
not being actually suicidal myself, meant that I would take myself to A&E
or call a professional and tell them what I had done. However, as soon as I was
getting help for it and having my life saved again and again, the hallucinations
would pick up in volume, be angry, annoyed at me for betraying them, and would
berate and shout at me to run away or to simply start refusing treatment.
Professionals obviously couldn’t hear these voices and for a long time, I
struggled to figure out this pattern or cycle, and so I was regularly labelled
a drama queen or attention-seeker. I mean, I came to actually understand and
appreciate why they would think that because to them, there was this girl taking
an overdose, asking for help, getting help, and then doing something that would
cause even more attention and drama like the requirement or protocol to call
the Police or an Ambulance etc.
In fairness, and
in an ideal world, those professionals would have not judged me in that rude,
offensive, and dismissive way, and instead, they would have taken the time to
help me to rationalise and understand things in a way were I could explain it
to them and help them to also comprehend the motivation behind my actions back then.
Their poor judgement of me and even more poor treatment of me, left me
frequently refusing, or failing, to seek help as soon as I found myself
struggling. So, I’d end up self-harming or making another suicide attempt and the
same professionals would say: “why didn’t you ring such-and-such first?”
In a bid to not
be judged for my failure to seek help, I started to voice that actually, I was
incredibly worried and – in most cases – convinced, that if I did, their response,
poor attitude, and negative behaviours, would actually escalate the situation. At
one point, I was so sick of people saying this that back in 2011, I called my
local Crisis Team and said, “I literally have the means to kill myself in my hand,
can you talk things through with me so that I don’t do it?” Their response? “Aimee,
we can’t stop you from overdosing. You may as well do it.” And so, I hung up
the phone and swallowed the tablets!
Another point I
would make when I was being judged or belittled for not seeking help, was that
often, when I did, a response would be that I obviously didn’t really want to
kill or hurt myself because if those thoughts and feelings were genuine, I’d
have just done them. I wouldn’t call someone who might be able to stop me in
some way. But then you wouldn’t ask for help, and someone would have something to
say about that too! It felt like I could never do the ‘right’ thing. That I was
a complete failure and couldn’t get anything right. I’d never win. And I was so
concerned that if I did call for help and received these horrible responses, I’d
end up actually feel a heck of a lot worse than I did when I called! And when
you’re already suicidal or having thoughts to self-harm, why would you risk
doing anything that could worsen that?
I became so
very desperate to determine ways in which I could seek help and support without
actually asking for it/saying those words, and in imagining there are others
out there feeling the same, I researched a few ways in which you can ask for
help without saying it…
1. "Can I get your thoughts on something?"
This
invites someone into your situation without making it sound like you're in
distress. It's a good way to open up about a challenge or decision.
2. "I’m not sure what to do
next."
This
shows vulnerability and signals that you're stuck, prompting others to offer
guidance or support.
3. "Have
you ever dealt with something like this?"
By
relating your situation to their experience, you're indirectly asking for
insight or advice.
4. "I could really use another
perspective on this."
This
frames your need for help as a request for collaboration rather than
assistance.
5. "Things have been a bit
overwhelming lately."
This expresses
emotional overload and lets others know something’s off, often prompting them
to ask how they can support you.
In 2012, I made another suicide attempt but this time, the Doctors in
A&E deemed me to be lacking the capacity needed to refuse the life-saving
treatment and this time, I was given a general anaesthetic, put on life support,
and taken to Intensive Care. Within days of waking up, the professionals had
clearly changed their tune and all of a sudden it was like everyone had sat up
and realised: ‘this girl actually needs help!’ As well as: ‘she’s genuinely
poorly!’ And before I knew it, I was sectioned again and this time, transferred
to a specialist psychiatric hospital over 100 miles away, where the ‘average
length of admission’ was said to be 12 – 18 months.
The hospital specialised in Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD, but
now referred to as Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder – EUPD) and
therefore it facilitated Dialectical Behaviour Therapy (DBT) because this is
the ‘recommended treatment’ for those with this diagnosis. Now, in DBT, one of
the most helpful skills I learnt in terms of asking for help yourself, was from
one of the four modules: the Distress Tolerance one. And it was a skill named ‘Recognising
Signs of an Emotional Crisis’ (if you’re curious to know more on a more formal
and official basis, you can actually read more about it, find an exercise for
learning it, and even download an activity sheet on a really good DBT website, here)…
I then put this following bit together on the importance of
Early Warning Signs which, in mental
health, are subtle changes in behavior, thoughts, emotions, or physical state
that can signal the beginning of a mental health issue. Recognizing them early
allows for timely support and intervention—often preventing things from getting
worse.
Here
are common early warning signs to watch for:
Emotional Changes
·
Feeling
overwhelmed, anxious, or excessively sad
for no clear reason
·
Mood swings or irritability
·
Losing
interest in things you used to enjoy
·
Feeling
numb or disconnected
Behavioural Changes
·
Withdrawing
from friends, family, or activities
·
Changes
in sleep patterns (sleeping too much or too
little)
·
Noticeable
drop in functioning at work, school, or daily tasks
·
Increased
use of alcohol, drugs, or other risky behaviours
Physical Changes
·
Fatigue
or low energy
·
Unexplained
aches and pains
·
Changes
in appetite or weight
·
Feeling
restless or on edge
Cognitive Changes
·
Trouble
concentrating, remembering things, or
making decisions
·
Racing
thoughts or persistent negative thinking
·
Paranoia
or feeling unusually suspicious of others
·
Thinking
the world feels unreal or distant
Warning Signs of a Crisis
These require immediate attention:
·
Thoughts
of self-harm or suicide
·
Hearing
or seeing things that aren’t there (hallucinations)
·
Extreme,
erratic, or violent behaviour
Why
they matter:
Early warning signs don’t always mean there is a serious issue,
but they are your brain and body’s way of saying something’s off. Taking them
seriously and talking to a professional can make a big difference early on.
Now, for
me, my largest Early Warning Sign that my mental health is deteriorating or is
going to deteriorate, is when the amount of sleep I typically get, reduces. The
reason for this is that my delusions and hallucinations, seem to take actual, physical
energy to defy, ignore, and/or dismiss. This is evidenced when, if I’ve had a
hard day with experiencing them constantly or when they’ve been particularly
loud, by night-time, I feel completely drained and sleepy. Then, it sometimes
takes a good twelve-hour sleep to build the energy and strength back up!
A couple
of years ago, when I was last sectioned, I had been struggling with my sleep
for around ten days prior to the delusion which – voicing it – led to an assessment
with the Crisis Team and them requesting the Mental Health Act assessment where
I was sectioned (I actually blogged about/after this admission; which you can
read here).
And when the most helpful aspect to being sectioned to that psychiatric
hospital for ten days was that I was given Zopiclone which allowed me to sleep
for – what felt like – almost the entire full 10 days, I realised that sleep
had been a huge factor in the relapse and admission.
So, in
all honesty, I do feel that having that recognition and the fact that failing
to recognise it back then resulted in me being sectioned and admitted to a psychiatric
hospital, means I have failed in not seeing it this time. I’m honestly ‘kicking
myself’ for not recognising that danger was building and for failing to seek
help sooner. Like, what will it take for me to learn that?!
However,
I think a huge sticking point for not seeking help sooner, was because when this,
almost, exact situation (in terms of the lack of sleep causing a strange – what
has been labelled by professionals as a – delusion that made me unsafe and led
to the Crisis Team coming out) happened two years ago, I was sectioned! And it
wasn’t exactly the greatest of experiences (like I said, the only really good
thing was the Zopiclone!) – and when I say ‘not the greatest’ I mean CQC ended
up involved! So, that experience has stuck with me as motivation to never be
sectioned again, but when that happened, I honestly believed that I shouldn’t
have been (sectioned and admitted) and so my thoughts now, that I don’t need
it; mean nothing really. And this anxiety of what the result might be if I called
the Crisis Team really stood in the way of me seeking help sooner than I did.
As I
mentioned earlier in this blog post, for a long time; I was labelled an
attention seeker, and it was largely because professionals – particularly the
Crisis Team – didn’t or couldn’t understand my thoughts, feelings, attitude,
and behaviour. When the hallucinations would tell me to hurt or kill myself and
then go quiet once I had done something, I would want to get help. But then I’d
seek help and the voices would be back, berating me for it and so I’d run away or
refuse treatment. From the outside looking in, I can actually completely
comprehend and appreciate how this might look like attention-seeking behaviours
because surely, if someone meant to self-harm or commit suicide they wouldn’t
seek help for it. And surely if you genuinely wanted help, you wouldn’t then be
uncooperative, dismissive, or refuse it when it’s actually offered or provided.
This horrible
and mistaken judgement of me left me absolutely desperate to be able to explain
why I was doing the things that I was, and this provided me with a lot of
motivation to engage in DBT as I was told it would help me to make sense of a
lot of things with my mental health. This was a difficult thing to recognise
because part of me thought, I shouldn’t have to work this hard to not be
treated poorly, but the other part of me realised that the Crisis Team and
other professionals, weren’t mind-readers! So, how could they be expected to
know anything if I wasn’t clear about it or couldn’t voice it?
In my
recent relapse, one big aspect where attention seeking was a possible issue,
was when I called the Police as I climbed onto the bridge. I was so worried
that they would think of it as attention-seeking that I literally said to them “I’m
not ringing for attention, I just genuinely don’t want a member of the public
to find my body.” After giving my details and location of the bridge, I hung up
and jumped. I said later – when the Police found me underneath the bridge and
said “she’s actually jumped’ – that I wouldn’t have hung up if I hadn’t jumped
because I knew full well that in hanging up, they would know or think that I’d
jumped and that would likely cause a larger response.
In the
past though, there was one point, where I honestly found myself feeling like I actually
had to be able to defend and give reason to my actions of seeking help and
support from professionals…
1. “I value my well-being, just
like anyone should.”
Seeking
help isn’t a weakness—it’s self-care. You’re taking responsibility for your
health, just like someone would with a broken bone or a chronic illness.
2. “It’s better to ask for support
early than to wait until it gets worse.”
Early
intervention is smart. You’re taking a proactive step, not waiting for things
to spiral.
3. “Mental health is health.”
There's
no difference between mental and physical health when it comes to needing care.
Therapy or medication is no more shameful than taking antibiotics or seeing a
doctor.
4. “If
I broke my arm, no one would tell me to ‘just push through it.’”
This
analogy helps others understand that emotional pain or mental strain isn't
invisible or ‘less real’—it's just less understood.
5. “I’d rather seek help than stay
stuck.”
You’re showing strength by choosing to move forward
instead of pretending everything is okay.
6. “What I do for my health is my
business.”
You don’t owe anyone an explanation—especially if
they’re unsupportive or uninformed. Your journey is yours alone.
7. “Seeking help shows
self-awareness, not weakness.”
It takes maturity to recognize when you're not okay
and to take action to heal.
Speaking to the Crisis Team and having an assessment with them doesn’t
have to always be initiated by yourself in a self-referral – even though that’s
completely possible and welcomed – sometimes, other professionals can make the
decision to refer you to them. These professionals are typically ones – such as
your GP or A&E staff – who you may have confided in and told them you’re
struggling or unsafe, but they feel/recognise that they aren’t the best, most knowledgeable
and trained people to help and support you.
I actually feel like establishing this realisation and – more importantly
– accepting it and acting upon it, is hugely admirable and appreciated. A lot
of people could very easily see that they can’t help someone and just push them
to one side and dismiss or belittle their struggle. When you’re in the
situation though, and someone else is telling you that they’re referring you to
the Crisis Team – best and typical practice is that you are told that the referral
is happening – it can be difficult to even just accept this never mind actually
be grateful for it. In fact, it can often spark opposite thoughts and feelings
around resentment towards that person/those people, and then this can lead to influencing
uncooperative behaviours and attitudes.
My second admission to a psychiatric hospital in 2009 – the instance I talked
about earlier when the Psychiatrist sectioned at me at my Mum’s home and said he
wanted me to start medication – was actually also precipitated by the Crisis
Team but by way of my Mum calling them.
When I got home from an appointment, for some reason, I told my Mum that
I’d self-harmed (in a way that could be conceived as a suicide attempt) and she
said she’d ring an Ambulance or get me to hospital and when I refused she said “what
am I supposed to do?” and I – in a sarcastic way – said “ring the Crisis Team!
You’re in a crisis!” But she did! And so, they came and upon hearing about the
situation and having a short conversation with me before I refused to say
anymore and went to my room, they arranged for two Psychiatrists and an Approved
Mental Health Practitioner (AMHP) to come to my Mum’s home and carry out a
Mental Health Act assessment on me. On being sectioned, I still refused to
attend hospital and the next thing I knew, all these Police were marching in
(they’d been waiting outside!) and they handcuffed me, put velcro restraints on
my legs, and then carried me out of the home like a parcel. And I just remember
looking back and seeing the AMHP hugging my Mum who was crying.
I remember questioning whose fault the situation was. I remember
thinking ‘yes, I did it; but she called them!’ And I’m not proud of that, but
it’s a really good example of the fact that I really didn’t used to take responsibility
for my actions – I’d usually say, “I only did it because such-and-such said
this!” or “I wouldn’t have done it if such-and-such hadn’t done that!” And I
think a lot of that attitude was about my mental health and how caught up I was
in my experiences, that I felt like I had no choice in the actions I would take
as a form of coping with thoughts and feelings. I think that since the rape and
abuse, I grew to have the belief that someone is always responsible for
something. There always has to be someone to blame.
So, to avoid instances where a referral is made about a person who doesn’t
agree with it, the following tips could be helpful…
1. Practice Active Listening
- Focus completely on the speaker.
- Show that you're listening with eye contact, nods.
- Don’t interrupt or rush the conversation.
2. Use Clear, Simple Language
- Avoid jargon or overly clinical terms unless appropriate.
- Be direct yet gentle; clarity helps people feel safe.
- Tailor your language to the person's level of understanding or
emotional state.
3. Create a Safe, Non-Judgmental Space
- Show empathy, not pity.
- Refrain from judgment, advice-giving, or minimizing feelings.
- Normalize emotional experiences.
4. Ask
Open-Ended Questions
- Use questions that invite deeper reflection:
- Avoid questions that can be answered with just “yes” or “no.”
5. Respect Silence and Pace
- Silence can be therapeutic—give the person time to process and
respond.
- Let the conversation unfold at a pace that feels safe for the
speaker.
6. Be Aware of Non-Verbal Communication
- Your body language, tone, and facial expressions must match your
words.
- Look relaxed and open—crossed arms or checking a watch may signal
disinterest.
7. Validate Feelings and Experiences
- Acknowledge emotions without needing to “fix” them:
8. Maintain Confidentiality (when applicable)
- Be honest about what you can and can’t keep private (especially in
professional roles).
- Confidentiality builds trust—don’t gossip or share stories.
9. Know When to Step Back or Refer
- You’re not expected to have all the answers.
- If someone is in crisis or needs more than you can offer, guide
them to a mental health professional or support line.
10. Reflect and Improve
- After conversations, reflect on what went well and what could be
improved.
- Consider feedback or supervision if you're in a professional role.
Now, I recognise that I’m NOT Disordered’s
audience is quite wide and it isn’t all about fellow service users and
inpatients and people with mental illnesses themselves. Sometimes, my readers are
actually the loved ones of those people and sometimes they are the professionals
who are trying to support those people and both groups are just looking for
insight into how that person might be thinking, what they might be feeling, and
experiences they may have. So, with that in mind, here’s some advice on how to
delicately and politely tell someone that you think they need help for their
mental health…
1. Choose the Right Time &
Place
·
Talk
when you're both relatively calm and not distracted.
·
Pick
a private, quiet space where they won’t feel
exposed or rushed.
2. Use “I” Statements Instead of
“You” Statements
This
helps avoid sounding accusatory.
🔹 Instead of:
“You
need help”
🔹 Try:
“I’ve noticed you’ve been going through a lot lately, and I’m really worried
about you.”
3. Express Concern, Not Criticism
Be
gentle and compassionate.
“You
don’t seem like yourself lately, and I just want to check in—how are you really
doing?”
“It seems like things have been really heavy for
you. I care about you, and I think talking to someone might really help.”
4. Normalize Mental
Health Support
Reduce stigma by making help-seeking feel normal.
“A lot of people I know have found counselling or
talking to a therapist really helpful.”
“This doesn’t mean something’s wrong with you—it
just means you might need some support, and that’s okay.”
5. Offer Support, Not Pressure
Let them know they’re not alone.
“If you want, I can help you look into support
options or even come with you.”
“You don’t have to decide right now—I just wanted
to say something because I care.”