Bridgett Brown

Eligibility Specialist, Disability Rights Advocate, Poet, Person Living with a Disability

My experience with the police has been interesting, and not what some people might expect.

About 15 years ago I felt I was about to have an episode. My psych disability  is episodic. I work full time, have an apartment, manage my finances, spend time with friends - all the things that everyone else does. I have episodes, though, often triggered by stress. These episodes are infrequent - as I've grown older, years and years can go by between them. But they take a toll on me.  I've learned to recognize the warning signs. I think a lot of people with psych disabilities do this - learn to listen to what their minds and bodies are telling them. So I knew the signs, and felt the best thing for me would be to check into the hospital.

Believe it or not, when I went to the hospital and explained what I was going through, I was turned away. I was told that I wasn't in crisis, which was ridiculous. That's where this thing about people with disabilities being the best experts on their own needs comes in: I knew that I was about to crash, and I was trying to make sure that I was in a safe space when it hit. I was an adult and I'd taken care of myself for a long time, already, by then. There I was, trying to explain that I could feel an episode coming on, and the people at P.E.S. (Psychiatric Emergency Services) were advising me to make an appointment with my doctor to have my meds adjusted. It didn't make any sense, and it only added to the stress I was already experiencing.

Later that same day, it was just as I'd known it was going to be. A full-on episode. I was confused and scared, but also irritated because I'd tried my best to do what I knew was right for me, only to be turned away at the P.E.S. door. Even though I was having an episode, I knew I wanted and needed medical attention. In my confused state I ended up at a building that I thought was the hospital - it had a big set of double doors and an awning. There were even names of doctors listed on the directory. I tried to get in thinking "This is a hospital - a safe place. This is where I need to be until this passes." Of course, it wasn't a hospital, at all. It was a residential facility for senior citizens. The people inside heard me knocking loudly on the doors and must have called the police.

I know people probably have a set idea about what someone with a psych disability is like when they're experiencing an episode or a break, but people are different. For me, even though I was exhausted, confused, scared, and angry I was also rational enough to know that my best bet at getting the help I knew I needed would be by trying to communicate with the police. When they showed up on the scene and asked me to leave, I told them that I was sick and asked them to call my family. They did that, and my parents explained that I had a history of mental illness and that I should be taken to hospital, as I was asking. I don't have much memory of my trip to the hospital, but I do remember that I wasn't handcuffed or treated like a crime suspect.

Unlike some people, who have had very negative experiences with law enforcement, I felt the police officers who answered that call really wanted to help me. Not everyone has been as lucky as I have. I think it's important that anyone planning to become a police officer actually get a chance to sit down and meet the people in the community that he or she will be working to protect - including people with psych disabilities. This is why I became involved with Stomp out Stigma. Stomp Out Stigma facilitates sensitivity training for police officers and cadets. What I like about this program is that it's not just a bunch of cadets reading a chapter in a book about mental illness. It's about people like me - people with psych disabilities, standing up and telling our stories, and answering questions. It's about breaking down barriers and giving these officers a chance to ask questions that they might never get to ask, otherwise.

The most common question I'm asked at these police trainings and workshops is, "What is it like?" People want to know what it feels like when I'm experiencing an episode. I tell them what my experience is like - my warning signals, my physical symptoms, that kind of thing. More importantly, I tell them that no two people are exactly the same, that there are all sorts of psych disabilities and that these disabilities present in different ways to different people. I also tell them that there are some basic, common sense practices they can put into place, and questions they can ask themselves. For instance, I know I tend to get very loud when I'm having an epsiode. This is because one of the symptoms I experience is hearing sounds and voices in my head. These sounds drown everything else out, and I have to speak loudly to even hear myself. A police officer who's not thinking about this as a possibility might assume that someone who's screaming at them is being aggressive, and he might act rashly on that assumption. If he knows, on the other hand, that a person with a psych disability might need be loud in order to hear himself, and is not necessarily trying to be aggressive, it could certainly help the officer make a decision about how to act that doesn't escalate the situation.

I enjoy this part of my work as a disability rights advocate. I think it's important for those of us with disabilities to tell our stories and become involved in our own communities.  I actually have a good friend who's a police officer. His son has a psych disorder. Having a friend who's open about her disability has been helpful to him, as a parent. I also think his personal circumstances have helped him in his police work.