A mother shares the harrowing reality of caring for her autistic son, who also experiences psychosis and complex PTSD. Despite his urgent need for support, he was denied critical mental health services, leaving his family to navigate crisis after crisis alone. As the system failed him, police intervention replaced medical care, leading to devastating consequences.
This is Lucy Britton‘s powerful and traumatic personal story – a stark example of what happens when safety nets disappear and families are left to fight alone.
Trigger Warning: This article discusses severe mental health crises, systemic neglect, domestic violence, self-harm, and the failure of mental health services to provide adequate support. Some readers may find the content distressing.
Transferring from child to adult mental health services
My youngest son, we’ll call him James, is 18. He is autistic and has psychosis and c-PTSD. Before he was 16, he had been in two psychiatric units. James is the rare example of a mentally unwell person who can become violent whilst sick.
When James was due to be transferred from CAMHS (Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services) to the CMHT (Community Mental Health Team), we were shocked when told he did not fulfil their criteria and would no longer receive support.
James’s psychotic episodes and autistic meltdowns have always been violent. I knew he was at risk and put others at risk, and I fought for his transition. CAMHS placed him on their priority list to ensure that high-need patients did not fall through the cracks. He fell through them anyway.
He was no longer taking medication because our GP had made a mistake, and, without the CMHT, we could not have it re-prescribed. The police became a routine presence in our lives.
In my prior experience, if someone was a risk to themselves or others, police would assist when an ambulance was inappropriate. Those rules no longer apply in our area.
The police have felt overwhelmed by mental health calls and a great many no longer want to deal with them, with a push for Crisis Teams (which are only open to people under the CMHT) to take over entirely. They want a change in the law and act like it has taken place.
The dangerous impact on psychotic episodes
During a psychotic episode early last year, James threw me six feet through the air, damaging my sacroiliac joint. The police attended. They gave me a panic button and referred me to domestic abuse services. My eldest and I explained he was sick and were assured he’d be supported.
I asked them to place him under a s.136 – a police power to detain someone under the Mental Health Act. I was told no, as he was not a risk to himself or others. The police made referrals to the CMHT, assuring me their word had power, but the CMHT still refused.
Days later, I was hurt again. My child was hallucinating and having invasive thoughts about hurting strangers or killing someone, yet I could not get him hospitalised.
Whenever he was violent, the police began to write it off as a domestic disturbance, every time. James eventually became so scared of himself, he started trying to get himself arrested because, he reasoned, at least then he would be in prison and would not be able to hurt anyone.
Eventually, during this episode, he attacked his brother and left the house, holding a knife to his own throat. We had made it clear to the police that he was unwell and delusional and that he was autistic. I again begged them to place him on a s.136 so he would be taken to a safe space and assessed by the mental health team.
Instead, he was arrested for assault and possessing a knife in public. He was placed in a cell and ignored, rather than a safe 136 suite where he’d be supported 3:1. He hit his head hard against the wall 50 times until he was on the floor and barely conscious. He told them he needed medical help. They simply removed his blanket as a safeguarding precaution. He is still experiencing pain and neurological issues months later.
The next morning, a mental health team assessed him. The police had clearly not properly relayed events to them because the mental health team decided he did not need to go into a psychiatric unit as he was “unlikely to act upon his violent intrusive thoughts.”
They instead decided to reintroduce his medications and add extras and placed him under the CMHT and crisis team. When his newly appointed psychiatrist emailed me to relay their decision-making, she was stunned when I explained he was violent to us.
James eventually settled down on medication, but, in the approach to Christmas, he was unmedicated again because of a new fault with the GPs. The police have been here regularly, yet they would not even remove him from the house after he stabbed the walls dozens of times and hurt us. It came to the point that if the police were called, I would shut down. I could no longer face them.
On Christmas Eve, I was knocked unconscious due to a punch to the head. When the police arrived, I got in my wheelchair and left, impolitely telling them to leave me alone.
I am still waiting for the domestic abuse support to begin after nine months on their priority list. The panic alarm from the police was never responded to. We waited hours for the police to turn up, but they never came, eventually sending an ambulance instead, which also never came.
Despite myself suffering from several chronic conditions, including severe uncontrolled epilepsy, and cyclical vomiting syndrome (CVS), an illness that makes me underweight and malnourished, and a wheelchair user, I was told to get a psychotic teen on public transport and wait in A&E for six hours.
James has also been very physically unwell for a year, requiring numerous trips to A&E by ambulance. He has only had a colonoscopy. No other tests were performed. His GP hasn’t referred him to a specialist despite him losing seven stone in seven months.
Who is to blame for this mental health support crisis?
Our story isn’t unusual. When every service is overwhelmed due to chronic underfunding and relying on other services to cover what they cannot, you eventually run out of safety nets.
James is now moving out because of how dangerous things have become. I’m scared about what happens next. I will support him as well as I can, but his needs are high. I’m terrified that no services will be there as required. I am not just scared for him, I am scared a tragedy involving others will happen.
The public blames a mentally unwell person when such tragedies take place and turns against the family for “not seeking help.” The real question is why services are unable to support such unwell people when their families are on their knees, begging for help.
Despite all these challenges, I continue to live with my two eldest sons, one who has bipolar and CVS (a condition we share) and the other who has a learning disability and AuDHD and is now possibly epileptic.
I’m now in the process of setting up a campaign about disability and domestic violence, and the cumulative impacts of both systemic and individual issues which trap disabled people in DV relationships (I escaped a year and a half ago after 20 years of it).
I’m also in the process of setting up a disability history blog, following on from researching disability in the interwar period for my Master’s.
What mental health services are available?
No family should have to fight alone for the care and safety of a loved one in crisis. If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health issues, some services may be able to help:
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- Samaritans (UK): Go online or call 116 123 for free, 24/7 confidential support.
- Mind: Go online or call 0300 123 3393 for mental health advice and support.
- Rethink Mental Illness: Go online or call 0808 801 0525 for help with severe mental illness.
- Shout 85258: A free, 24/7 text service providing crisis support – just text “SHOUT” to 85258.
- Spokz People: an online wellbeing community and programme for disabled people
- National Autistic Society: Go online for resources on autism and mental health support.
- Domestic Abuse Helpline (UK): Call Refuge at 0808 2000 247 for free, confidential support.
If you are in immediate danger, please call 999 for emergency assistance.
Stories like this are not uncommon, and too many families find themselves battling a broken system with nowhere to turn. If you have experienced similar struggles navigating mental health services, we want to hear from you. Your experiences matter, and sharing them can help shine a light on the urgent need for change.
Have you or a loved one been denied essential mental health support? Have you faced barriers in accessing crisis care? Share your story in the comments box, on social media or contact us to share your personal story.