Don’t Pity Me: Psychosis Gave Me Mad Skills
As everyone who watched BBC Horizon’s documentary ‘Why Did I Go Mad?’ can attest, I’ve struggled with some pretty intense things: hearing voices, seeing visions, paranoia and the legacy of childhood trauma. Despite spending much of my early twenties in hospital, doped up to the eyeballs with strong medication, pity really is the last thing […]
Our Family Was Forged In Fire: Living Through Postnatal Psychosis
Today, Thea Mae – my little warrior child – is three years old. I can barely believe how much time has passed since I first held in her my arms. Yet, it also feels like she’s been with us forever. These past three years have been eventful, to say the least. In addition to the […]
Some of the things that excite me about Open Dialogue
Time is limited, and these days I try to orient myself around the people and initiatives that I connect with. My family and friends remain top of my list. Music, the Hearing Voices Movement and creative approaches to being with people in distress are a close second. On this site I’ve spent plenty of time […]
It’s there in the crunch of the autumn leaves: living with my friend’s suicide
Today marks the 18-year anniversary of the suicide of one of my closest friends – Susan. As I type these words my eyes sting and my heart feels heavy. I was walking my dog earlier and found my heart beating in two times. In the first I am walking in 2020, noticing the crunch of the autumn leaves beneath my feet. In the second it is 2002. The leaves are different – they crunch underneath my feet as I’m walking to her flat.
55 Steps: a battle cry against forced ‘treatment’ for us all
A response to 55 Steps – a film featuring Helena Bonham Carter and Hilary Swank that tells the story of Eleanor Reise (a lady repeatedly drugged against her will) and Collette (her lawyer). The film was effectively buried. Here’s why we need to work together to resurrect it.
Their heart just stopped: Living through a Missed Miscarriage
I started this article trying to write about the day I found out Space Baby had died, only to realise that I did not have a landmark moment to articulate. There was no definitive scan, no blood and no kindly professional sitting me down to tell me of our loss. I do not know when our baby died, only that I accepted their death in small increments with each consecutive appointment. The day hope left, more than a week before the physical miscarriage itself, I remember leaving Joel at the train station and heading up to Manchester to speak at a mental health conference as if everything was OK. That night I sat in isolation amongst friends and allies, drinking my first beer in months.
My Baby, Psychosis & Me: A lesson in how not to make a documentary about mental health
Earlier this year, after my own miscarriage, I settled down on the sofa to watch ‘My Baby, Psychosis & Me’ – a BBC documentary on the journey of two women through a Specialist Mother & Baby Unit. Watching it so recently after my own loss was always going to be painful – yet the issue […]
Tonight The Grief Is With Me
Today I walk through the world with a deep and open wound. It’s a pain that leaves me feeling both full to breaking point with a deep sadness and curiously empty. It is as if my feelings are huddled in the corner, snuggled up with Schrödinger’s Cat – simultaneously there and not there. As I […]
Short Thought #2: Get to Know your Voices
Short Thought #2: Get To Know Your Voices from Rai Waddingham on Vimeo. This is the second in my video ‘shorts’. This one explores some of the different ways people can use their creativity to explore their voices and the often complex relationships they have with them. To me, this is a very important topic […]
Breaking The Silence: Supporting Young People who Hear Voices
Harry: Do you think I should have told them? Dumbledore and the others, I mean. Ron: Are you mad? Hermione: No, Harry. Even in the wizarding world, hearing voices isn’t a good sign. – Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. In the last few years I’ve developed a sincere admiration for those youth workers […]
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