As regular readers will know, I reside in a psychiatric institution and have since 2007. Originally, the psychiatrist who admitted me did foresee that it would not just be crisis intervention – getting me to sleep better and pop out of my suicidal thoughts. In addition, we’d need to find a suited supported housing placement to move me to from the psychiatric hospital, because I’d ended up in a crisis from having to live on my own. It just didn’t happen. No suitable supported housing place could be found and, more than seven years on, I’m still residing on a psychiatric unit.
When my now husband became my boyfriend and then my husband, several times the thought of us living together crossed our minds. He usually was the one asking me whether I’d consider living with him. I had my reservations, because I didn’t know I’d be able to cope when he’d be at college or later at work. Also, I didn’t want him to take on a carer role, as we’re supposed to be husband and wife not carer and patient.
I still believe my husband isn’t my carer, but he keeps telling me that even though he does more for me practically than I do for him, what I give him in love amounts to the same. Since I moved to the small town institution in 2013 and my husband had moved to the next town in late 2012, we’ve been closer together than ever before.
There have been a few reasons why I started considering moving in with my husband again late last year. First is my difficult relationship with the nursing staff at my current unit, so that I ended up calling my husband when in a crisis situation rather than enlisting the staff’s help anyway. The staff have on at least one occasion refused to come out to help me when I had run off the ward in a crisis state, and my husband had to come to collect me and get me back to the ward. Of course, this isn’t his job, but when the staff don’t do theirs, someone’s got to do it.
Secondly, it’s become increasingly hard for me to function in a group setting with increasingly little staff support and more severely ill fellow patients. I do know I cause trouble to the other patients too, so this is in no way meant to insult them. I just didn’t choose to live with them, and I do choose my husband to be my husband and hopefully can choose to live with him. Of course, after all, amidst all the practicalities, I love my husband and would very much like to be with him most of the time.
So I called my social worker in December to schedule an appointment to discuss the possibilities of me getting home support while living with my husband. The laws changed significantly at the start of this year, so I had some worries. The appointment was yesterday.
First, one of the main things that absolutely need to be in place for me to live with my husband is an out-of-hours support service that I can call when in an emergency when my husband is at work. They will need to be able to send a support worker to my home should I need in-home support. The area supported housing organization for the mentally ill provides these services, but probably not in my husband’s town. My social worker will look into this.
Additional needs are some day activities for me and possibly a bit of scheduled home support for establishing a daily structure. Thankfully, we won’t need housekeeping, as most local governments have cut out funding for that unless you’re extremely poor.
I told my husband about the social worker’s answers to my questions, which weren’t particularly concrete yet as she’s got to ask the government about what they’ll fund and search around for a suitable support agency. My husband was totally cool, as he said he’s willing to relocate should the right services not be available in his current town. He doesn’t particularly like his town anyway, but I suggested moving to this area because of what I thought were good services. Maybe I was wrong on that.
I am trying to be optimistic that I will be able to live with my husband sometime in the not too distant future. I’ll keep hoping for a positive outcome!