Knock Knock Knock Knock
*male voices*
Is this the one?
Yeah.
Knock Knock Knock
*opens door a fraction*
Yeah? What do you want?
We’ve received a call from a member of the public and a call from one of your neighbours expressing concerns about your welfare, can we come in?
What? No. You fucking can’t.
Come on. It’s just me and my colleague Jerry, we want a little chat.
No thanks, you’re alright.
Right, come on, open up now, there’s a good girl.
I’m fine, seriously, piss off.
*sighs*
We can do this the easy way or the hard way.
You got a warrant?
No, but we have reason to believe that your safety and the safety of others may be compromised. We can either chat to you here or down at the station, it’s entirely up to you.
I’m a smart girl, I’d never be stupid enough to invite filth into my own home.
Fine, get some shoes on and we’ll take this down the nick.
Wankers. You’re never there when we actually need you yet you’re always there when you’re not welcome.
Yep. Could you also bring with you a list of any medication you’re taking.
Nope, because that would suggest that I’ll be in your company overnight, which is definitely not happening.
We’ll see about that.
Bastards.
Right, get your coat.
I’ve pulled?!
*Jerry laughs*
*Pig #1 does not laugh*
Hang on, what the hell’s happened here? What’s all this?
Hair dye.
Hair dye?
Hair dye.
Hair dye, Sir?
Jerry, go down and get the first aid kit will ya?
Sir.
If that’s hair dye then I’m the Queen of England.
Don’t flatter yourself.
Right, I’m gonna need you step outside of the property please. I’ve had enough of your lip.
Oi, don’t you fucking touch me. My father always told me never to go off with strange men.
*death stare*
I need to get changed, you can wait outside in the corridor, I’ll be 2 minutes.
Nope. Don’t think so.
I haven’t even done anything wrong, just go away!
I’m not letting you out of my sight, sweetheart.
CAN YOU PLEASE JUST FUCKING FUCK OFF. I NEED TO GET CHANGED AND I NEED THE TOILET. UNLESS YOU WANT TO WATCH ME CHANGE MY TAMPON, YOU SICK FUCK! GOD, you people really are the fucking worst. Just back the fuck up and I’ll be out in a minute, alright?
First aid kit, Sir.
Ah, Jerry. Right. Tell me. How did you hurt yourself? What did you use?
I didn’t. Nothing. And I’m no-one’s fucking sweetheart, by the way.
Have you taken anything today?
Why, what have you got? Anything good?
Are you currently in possession of any offensive weapons?
My mouth.
Are you currently in possession of any item or items which you could use to harm yourself or others?
Wait. Yeah.
What is it?
My wit. It’s pretty sharp.
*Jerry stifles a laugh*
Jesus wept. If you don’t tell me right now I’m going to have to cuff you for your own safety and for mine. Hands out.
This is ridiculous.
DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT LOCKING THAT BATHROOM DOOR, GODDAMMIT.
I’LL BE ONE FUCKING MINUTE, MY GOD.
Right, I’m going to count down from 10, if you’re not out here by the time I reach 0 I am going to break the door in, right?
Sure.
10
9
8
Jerry, radio 6423 and see if they’re local.
Sir.
5
4
Tell ’em we’ve got a live one.
3
LAST CHANCE MISSY.
2, 1!!!!
Jeeeeesus, keep your wig on!
Right, let’s go.
But why?
Follow Jerry. Go on. Watch your step.
Wait, please tell me we’re not driving… your Cop Shop is 150 yards across the road, surely your motor would be more useful out patrolling the streets catching genuine threats to society?
Get in the car.
Wow. Met Police, saving the planet, one unnecessary detainment at a time.
Mind your head.
This is getting silly. I haven’t actually done anything wrong.
But you will, which is why we’re intervening now before you do any major damage.
That is utter bollocks. And I’m supposed to be the insane one, hahahahahaha, you mad, mad bastards.
Sir, is there any point of taking her to the station? Can’t we go straight to the hospital, let them deal with her?
Errrrrrrrm, yeah actually, I’ve had enough of nutters for one day: good thinking, Batman.
Sir. What do I tell Chief?
Uhhhh, pfffffft, the usual spiel: too many injuries to accurately document, urgent medical attention required, high risk psych, station’s too busy and understaffed to deal with her, blah blah blah.
Okie dokie, thanks Sir, got it, Sir.
Hey, can I go for a fag while you do your paperwork?
No.
Why not?
Because I said so.
Please?
Nope.
Bastard.
Have you got your meds list?
I’ll write you a full meds list and list of my diagnoses, plus the names and numbers of my uncaring care workers and unsupportive support staff if you let me go for a fag. How’s about that?
No.
Andddd I’ll give you the correct phone number of my next of kin?
No chance.
Hmph. Hey, has anyone ever bled to death in the back of your fancy little cop car before? “Urgent medical attention required” and yet we’re just sitting here in the car park doing jack shit.
Put pressure on it.
Er, I’m pissing blood back here!
You’ll live.
Yeah. Sadly.
Originally published on Hijacked Amygdala here.
Treacle Heart 
Oh dear, sugar. What’s been going on?
This is a combination of several police incidents over the past few years, nothing recent. I’ve learnt now not to open the door. Hope you’re doing well, babes xx
Did this happen? Because it broke my heart.
I know we don’t know each other that well, but that doesn’t stop you from being the stranger that I’m kinda in love with.
Hope you’re okay x
Thank you love, you’re just the sweetest!
This piece is about several police encounters all combined into one for ease of reading – the mental health services don’t have the time, money, staff or resources to deal with me so unfortunately the police end up having to fill the gap. And because they’re not mental health professionals they don’t understand my behaviour, and often interpret my fear as aggression which ends up getting me in trouble and the whole experience makes me sicker so I’m often released in a worse state than I was when I came in and still there’s no mental health support waiting for me when I’m released so it all repeats itself.
There are never any free beds on the psych ward so they think putting me in a locked cell with a foam mat is as good as or equivalent to providing me with a psych bed on a secure unit, when really I would be safer at home in my own bed.
I remember once I was having a really bad psychotic episode and was terrified and disoriented and was begging for help, and the copper who put me to into the cell told me to “Sober up” – I wasn’t drunk or on drugs, I was just out of my mind, paranoid, delusional, and my lithium levels were too low, but was treated like a drunken mess, a stupid little girl who had one too many who would be embarrassed of her behaviour in the morning. It was so scary.
Sadly these incidents of police trying to control the mental ill happen hundreds of times a week all over the UK – I can only image it’s even worse in certain countries around the world.
Thanks again for your concern, hope you and your lil peanut are thriving <3 xx
That’s so awful, I can’t believe you’ve had to deal with those horrific kinds of experiences. To be honest, I didn’t know it was that bad in this country, it’s heartbreaking really.
I’m here for you if you need, anytime.
Thank you lovely – lil peanut is moving around (which is quite an odd sensation as I’m sure you can imagine). I find out the sex on Monday <3 xx