Returning amidst the Inquest

I have not performed my own work in a while - I’ve taken a year out from my own performance practice. At first, I was avoiding situations where people would ask me what I am doing, what I am making, what the next project is - because for along time I felt like I would never want to make or perform again – and the loss of that impulse was too hard to speak of or even find words to explain.

I made my first solo piece, Are You Lonesome Tonight? at the end of 2014 as part of Now14 festival at the Yard Theatre and was lucky enough to perform it many times in 2014. It was due to tour and I was arranging the making of my next project. Then my sibling passed away whilst in psychiatric care of respiratory pneumonia and since I’ve been unsure whether I would be able to return to Are You Lonesome Tonight? or my practice.

AYLT uses a specific moment from my personal history – the moment when my sibling, whilst experiencing a period of psychosis, gave me a book titled Are You Lonesome Tonight? the untold story of Elvis’s one true love and the child he never knew and told me this book was about me and I am the secret love child of Elvis - as a starting point for my research enquiry.

I wanted to better understand what psychosis is and 

how it is defined, using Elvis, his music and image as a cipher with which to ask – what is the difference between an imaginative thought and a delusional belief? What are the parameters by which we patholigise behaviour we don’t understand and ask why some ideas from some people are allowed and others are not? I still want to ask these questions, they are still important, still relevant and so I will be performing Are You Lonesome Tonight? in it’s new form on Saturday 30^th April at the Attenborough Arts Centre in Leicester. I was lucky to be supported by Word of Warning, Domestic 11 in September 2015 to experiment with this new form and to them I am incredible grateful.

I am the beginning of an inquest process for my siblings death- it’s been a year of dates being set and moved, witnesses’s outside of jurisdiction, evidence being misplaced and what feels like endless Kafkaesque stalling. All this amidst grieving, healing and beginning to return to shared reality. 

The Hillsborough Inquest is an example of just how long it takes for the truth to come out, for those really responsible to be held accountable, for justice -  I hope this particular inquest is catalyst for a further enquiry into the government and state violence, police brutality and the media who so shamelessly promoted hatred and lies through their position of power about the victims of the Hillsborough devastation.

I am in the midst of something that feels so much bigger than me. In the last year I have had the honour of being around SistersUncut who give me strength to carry on. My practice is part of that activism; I will not be silenced, I will take up space and facilitate space for your voices to be listened to.

Revisiting this piece has been like putting on an old coat that doesn't fit the same as it used to. My body has changed shape and so the coat had to be adjusted, some buttons moved, the lining re-hemmed, but there is a comfort in this coat beyond sentimentality. I want to honour the memory of my sibling and the drive to make this piece. I’m putting my coat back on and returning to my practice.

Sharing my concerns in order to fight.

Warning - the following is horrific. 

I’ve been trying to write this blog post for days, weeks, months now. 

A long time. 

During this long time –  that feels like no time at all -

I have felt more pain than ever before. I have felt unsure about what to do and what relevance anything has now. 
I have avoided social situations, because 'I don't know what I am doing right now or in the coming year and no, I'm not alright.' 
I have felt more guilt, more shame, more rage, more loss than I knew possible. I have failed to process who this new person is and felt alien in my body. I have cancelled nearly everything, pulled back, ran into the mountains, hidden, kept away, kept busy, ground to a halt and watched everything and everyone continue around me.

Time makes little sense now.

My therapist says I am experiencing an ongoing dissociative episode - due to PTSD. 

I tried to write this blog again after my residency at forest fringe – one of the things I didn’t cancel - I had set it as a goal to be ok by then, to be around people again, to be more myself.
I didn't succeed in all of those goals, I was not ok and I didn't write that blog post -- Thank you all those of forest fringe - it was good to be around you - thank you for being so supportive - sorry these thanks are late. 

I was advised by my lawyer to not say anything publicly until I had as much information as possible and still then to tread carefully, to not place blame or say anything defamatory publicly.

I am only allowed to express my concerns.

At the end of March 2015 my sister died in a mental health hospital from aspiration pneumonia.

This is classed as a natural cause death.

She was 30 years old.

I am concerned that my ongoing concerns for her health and safety were ignored. 

I am concerned that her life was not valued. 

I am concerned her death was avoidable.

I am concerned that after years of asking for regular information into my sister’s care and treatment - or just any information at all - I have now seen all of her medical records and the more I know, the more I am aware of how little I knew and how much was withheld from me.

I am concerned that it is impossible to find out how many other young vulnerable people are dying in mental health facilities, because this information is not researched correctly or is hidden from public view.

I am concerned that my previous concerns about budget cuts to important mental health services would lead to poorer quality care and more deaths has been personally verified. 

I am concerned that all my concerns came true. 

I am writing this because it’s still not real and although I can say it out loud and type it on my computer my brain will not process that any of this has actually happened.

I can’t get my head to understand that I’m never going to speak to, or laugh with, the person who I have known the longest and loved the most.

This is probably because I don’t want it to be real, but in order to sustain myself in the huge fight for justice that I have in front of me - I need my brain to start processing that it is real and i’m hoping that sharing this is the start of that.

I need to be well to fight - so I am sharing my concerns. 

There will be more - this is just the beginning. 

I will need help and I will be asking for it. 

Note - if you know me this is news is new to you - I'm sorry I haven't said anything - I haven't known how. And if at any point recently Ive ignored you, not said hello, not replied to emails - im sorry aswell. 

All of this is fucking hard - so if you want to speak to me and don't know what to say, don't worry I don't know what to say either, but it's good to be seen and heard.

(All those of you who have sent messages - thank you)

Talking to stop from falling.

The following is heavy (and I swear a lot – apologies for any offence in advance - It was also written a week or so ago – but only now I am calm enough to share.)

Let me be clear that in writing this I in no way want you to carry this weight. I don’t want you to fix my shit. My intention is not to put my shit upon you by sharing it. (I try not to feel or see it as a weight – but that's another blog post.)

I feel people don’t talk about their own mental health to each other because of these ideas; of being put upon, weight baring and shit fixing. Compassion is not about that, it’s about listening and empathising – that’s all.

A few weeks ago - all over the country - people where encouraged to take five minutes to talk about mental health in order to end stigma as part of Rethink’s Time to talk campaign.

On that day, like most days, I spent more that five minutes talking about mental health – my own and the mental health of the family member that I love and care for, who is in hospital under section. They had their CPA – Care Plan Assessment – meeting, which happens every 12 weeks. We are supposed to go through their plan and assess whether we are ‘moving forward’ – it's the biggest game of pass the fucking buck bureaucracy I have ever come across and it is notoriously difficult. I am always in the shit position with no power, asking how we are measuring ‘recovery’, what the milestones are and fighting to keep us, the family, informed of what’s happening with care, meds, behaviour – you know - what the fuck is actually going on. There are countless events that have taken place, when I’ve been the last to know, including an allergy to meds and hospitalisation for triple pneumonia!

My family member is under section because society deems their way of seeing themselves, and world, as dangerous and unsound and legally they are seen to not have the judgement to make safe decisions for themselves. However, even though they are ‘protected from themselves' by their section and people have been appointed to manage their care, they can decide whether I am allowed to know what is going on with their treatment. This can happen on their request. My family member has to agree to this on a rolling basis – meaning they have to constantly remember to say they want me know anything – I don’t believe the doctors constantly ask. My family member can be non communicative. I always feel the hospital use this to their advantage.

During the CPA, it came to light that their had been yet another incident that I was not informed about. The doctor brought up in the meeting that the ‘prosecution had taken place.’

What prosecution? - I say

Did the social worker not inform you?

Inform me of what? - I had no idea what he was talking about.

In August 2013 – over two years ago - my family member was attacked by a member of staff in the hospital  – whilst being restrained on the floor the member of staff stamped on their head, bruising their face and neck – the female nurse was reported by another member staff and has now been prosecuted and sentenced.

I can’t begin to explain how this feels. Let me start by saying that this hospital is miles better than any hospital my family member has been in before. Which should begin to paint a picture of low secure units in the UK.

My family member is ill due to trauma – lots of trauma and I want to protect them from anymore, but it seems I can’t. 

They are a huge number of carers who also manage their own mental health. Me included, but my needs seem so much less than my family member that I often ignore them until it’s got so bad I’m not functioning at all.

The day after the CPA was a hard day; I am always trying to keep my head above water, not let myself fall. I guess that's why I’m writing this, to stop myself from falling. I worry that my friends feel put upon by me, feel like it’s too much weight, that I want them to fix it. It seems I am also afraid of stigma, even though I don’t think I am.

When I’m in a bad place. I loose my voice too. I speak to understand my emotions, to make sense of things. When I don’t speak, when I loose my voice, everything stops making sense.In the past I would have kept this to myself, but I fear that might make me as bad as the hospital – hiding information as a form of self-preservation.

There are wider implications of this incident – about human rights, freedoms and choice and sharing of information. Who has a voice and when is that voice listened to? If a voice is disregarded as ‘mad’ how do we ensure that the voices appointed to speak for them can be trusted? Can anyone ever really speak for someone else’s wants and needs – even me as a family member?

I am lucky to be able to exercise my voice and I’m hoping by doing so it will stop it from disappearing and me from falling.

Time to talk.

The beast known as Edinburgh.

Dust settles. Perspective. Reflection. 

This year has been a whirl wind. Unexpected. Overwhelming and frightening.

Edinburgh is a scary and confusing goldfish bowl bubble. Its exposing.

Are you lonesome tonight - is equally exposing. This piece is about things that are very present, confusing and at times painful from my life. At times I let anxiety get the better of me, I hid - a lot, but I managed to get through to the end. Huzaaah!I also ate fruit and veg regularly - a triumph.

Photo thanks to Holly Revel

I have been wrestling with the this project since I started it. Constantly swinging about whether I should do it. Whether I can do it. Whether its disrespectful, self indulgent or not clear enough. 

I did a lot of things for the first time. I made piece of work drawn directly from my own experience. I stood on a stage alone for an hour. I sang in front of people - which I haven't done in a long time. I played guitar outside of my bedroom. I did maths. 

 My practice is a process driven one, interactive theatre or participatory performance has a lot of room for failure. Are You Lonesome Tonight asks questions of the audience and really listens to the answers - all responses are different. It needs testing and for that there needs to be an audience. This adventure was an experiment - a very public, very pressured experiment.

Photo thank you Paul Blakemore

Are You Lonesome Tonight is an experience. I lay down a lot of dots and the audience join them up as they choose. It's not black white, but this seemed like the only way to delve into the fractious nature of delusion, imagination and identity. There are no answers, just lots of questions and structures we should examine. But now, as the dust settles, I have a much clearer idea of what it is and I believe in it. 

Photo thank you Paul Blakemore

I wanted to make a project that invited an audience to have conversations about mental health and to explore how ideas of 'madness' are constructed.

Photo thanks to Holly Revel 

An attempt to understand the misunderstood; Psychosis, delusions and the fluidity of identity. The result - Are you lonesome tonight? an interactive performance that invites an audience to interrogate difficult subject matter, using my possible lineage to Elvis (who's wealth of imagery we are so familiar with) as a cipher, an icon to hang these big ideas from.

Elvis and numbers, calculations and predictions, conversations about profiles and criteria and how we as humans both love and hate to be told what we are. How personality is a possible fallacy and how truth, fact or fixed states - shouldn't be so easily applied to diverse, complex, changing humans.

Photo thanks to Holly Revel 

Edinburgh helped me reinvigorate my belief. I grew as a performer and a maker. For the first time I got sucked into caring what other people think of me and then I managed to shake it off. I remembered how powerful performance, conversation, ideas and art can be. I remembered how intelligent and sensitive audiences are and I remembered that change is possible and happening.

I saw change at the fringe this year. Powerful and important work about mental heatlh was making itself known. Mental by The Vacuum Cleaner - was deservedly  praised by peers and critics - getting a four star review in the Scotsman (the scottish equivalent of the telegraph) something that wouldn't have happened 10 or even 5 years ago.

The wonderfully talented Jess Thor aka Tourette's hero was the first artist who is disabled to receive the Total Theatre emerging artist award. Her show Back Stage in Biscuit Land made my heart swell and is extremely well crafted - you can catch at the BAC - I cant recommend it highly enough. Fellow award winners Ridiculusmuss' show  'The eradication of schizophrenia in western lapland' is an undeniable feet in enabling an audience to experience hearing voices and shows how this can be both a comforting, frightening and illuminating experience. The wonderful Billy Barret wrote some interesting words comparing Eradication and my show AND used the words NEURODIVERSITY and explained it beautifully. 

I fell in love with the None of us is yet a Robot project - cant wait to see what happens with it and I loved being inside a box - which is funny for me because I usually dislike that so much. 

Chris Goode did an amazing musical homage to Pete Seger at Forest Fringe. Which came at the right time for me - I also love Seger. In one of the communal songs Chris said 'im not sure we should sing the next lyrics, i'm not sure how I feel about

peace. Change is not peaceful' 

So much work at this year's fringe disrupted the peace, would not go quietly, called for change in perspective, a rearrangement and examination of societal constructs.

Men of the Cities - Chris Goode | Confirmation - Chris Thorpe | Stand By for Tape Back Up - Ross Sutherland | Guinea Pigs on Trial - Sh!t Theatre | The Christeene Machine - Christeene | Looking for Paul - Wunderbaum | This is how we Die - Chris Brett Bailey | You're not alone - Kim Noble |  Selina Thompson - Chewing the Fat | Rev Billy and the Choir of Stop Shopping - to name but a few.

I am proud that I could be around it and be part of it. I'm glad its over - it's good to be home. I'm glad I didn't give up (It nearly happened in week 2 of 4 - I even looked up train tickets and how Sh!T Theatre could do the rest of my shows) 

I also managed to help out on some other beautiful projects: 

Caroline Wright & Helen Paris' Out of Water very early in the morning on Portebello Beach

Rachel Mars' Sing it spirit of Envy Choir at Forest Fringe and reading Samantha Cameron for Eva Weinmayr's Death in Downing Street 

  also as Forest Fringe.

So here in the internet I would like to officially thank those who made sure I didn't give up - gush, gush, gush *looks straight down camera lens*

Xavier De Sousa, my friend who's producing mind and support have made this possible, Sh!T Theatre - Becca and Jen thank you for taking me along for the ride and being so awesomely Sh!t, Louise - for all your support technically and emotionally,  ROOM - Annabelle, Sophie, Mal, Alan and Jem for the flat hiding, the chocolate and kind words. Abbey Butcher for the cuddles, Ross Sutherland and Chris Thorpe for the encouraging and grounding words, James and Lilly for times with Doris, Hattie for reminding me to eat and the glow stick dancing fun times, Forest Fringe for the home from home safe space, Summerhall for the beautiful staff, space and support and everyone who came and saw my show - you were brilliant, open, present and playful.

I also got some nice reviews - and I got nominated for the Arches Brick Award 2014

Would I do it again - we'll see.