River Dee, Aberdeen.
Digital Image
When I was first diagnosed schiz, I used to go to a drop-in centre and then sometimes to the pub later.
One time a few of us, maybe five, were sat having a pint in a local bar, when two women social workers from the council sat at a table next to ours.
Both wore an ID badge with the department’s name but not their own name.
They had loud voices and began talking boisterously about various mental illness.
They announced that “schizophrenics need to be trained like dogs” and that some can even do tricks ha ha ha.
They bemoaned Care In The Community and said that ’the number of rapes has gone through the roof since they started letting those weirdos live amongst normal people.”
This went on for a while until one of my friends got up, walked over to the ladies’ table and said;
“I’m schizophrenic and so are my friends here…can I have your names please?”
The two women quickly got to their feet and walked away without another word which I found quite interesting.
Every social worker I’d had up that point had spoken to me in a slow sing-song voice as if I was completely retarded.
it was actually quite fascinating to find out why.
