In around 1965, when my mother, Anne, was twelve, she was told she was schizophrenic. A smart, quick-witted child with a talent for comedic poetry and a love of Oscar Wilde, she was not suited to the strict, nun-led Catholic schooling thrust upon her.
Projecting my own vulnerability For 17 years I worked in mainstream mental health services. I qualified as a social worker in 2001, got my first job in mental health in 2002. I wanted to make a difference! Having grown up with a fair amount of traumatic experiences myself, I felt I had something to give. […]