Tangling With a DMHAS Staff Member
Last Summer, in 2006, when our son was homeless, I called DMHAS looking for help for our son. We needed urgent help and the gentleman I talked to treated me like I was an imbecile. All he could seem to do was recommend that I take the parenting course that NAMI offers — and that was his way of helping me – a frantic mother who had no idea whether or not our son was safe, alive, or worse! Don’t get me wrong — the courses that NAMI offers are invaluable, and I would highly recommend them to any of us that are touched my mental illness in our lives — whether it be by a loved one, ourselves, or if we work in this field. Those courses should be mandatory for many of us!
However, I was calling about my son, who I thought was sleeping outside in the woods near a paintball site, and he was terribly at risk. He was off his medication, and had been for over a month, and he had no mode of communication or money or anything! I had been told repeatedly by many individuals in the mental health industry that in order to get our son the help he needs, that we would have to throw him out onto the street.
THEY ALL LIED TO US!
Once our son was homeless, there was no help from anywhere! The CT State Mental Health Authority was telling me to take NAMI classes and read some books!
I got quite angry with this caseworker at DMHAS and told him that I was a seasoned parent of a mentally ill adult. I had been dealing with out son’s issues since he was 5 years old, and that I had been dealing with the “system” for many, many years. At this point, I told him, classes were not what I needed. I was not very nice in my tone of voice either.
I felt completely insulted by this man, and could not believe he was in the position he was in — helping me as a mental health services professional. He was no help at all, in fact, he only added immeasurably to my stress and anguish.
In my next post, I will describe my most recent experience with this same individual at DMHAS, while I have been trying to get our son the services he needs while we are fighting all this down in North Carolina. I have to stop here and take a break, because just writing about it and dredging it back up again actually makes my head and chest hurt.
I will continue the story after I calm down.
