THE ST. JAMES' JOURNAL

Dreams Realised
 
A brown envelope, official stamp, the contents of which we knew. Our first reaction was one of apprehension and uncertainty. Many mocking voices from the past circulated our minds screaming "Nuthouse, imbecile, padded cells, straight-jacket". To us their words had shown this to be the layman's definition of a psychiatric hospital. While a minority were of the opinion that the stigma of mental illness was diminishing, the majority—through ignorance—still persisted in their narrow, near-sighted ideas of such an illness.
 
An illness which affects other people and now it was happening to us. We battled on against growing fears and strove to find an answer to such confusion, but in the end hospitalisation seemed the only solution.
 
Once inside the strong fortress of protection and escape all thoughts of stigmas were lost. This was the beginning of our hospital life, a time when we would remould our personality and adopt new thought and ideas. A necessary process, for unless we made a change to some degree we would leave hospital to be subjected to the same pressures and stresses which had led us to our original mental deterioration.
 
There were days when we were disheartened, lacking in confidence and loath to plan the coming tomorrow. But as time progressed we were able to look objectively into the future and these fears dissolved. On discharge from the hospital we felt a little apprehensive and remained so for the first few months after starting work again.
 
Gone was the company we had found in fellow patients; gone was the safety and security and gone too, was the unreal, cocoon-like existence we had found within the hospital walls.
 
After the initial impact we entered factory life, but were determined that this would act as rehabilitation before getting into a more ambitious and purposeful occupation. We were forewarned about the "low level intelligence" and "cabbage-like person" to be found in a factory. Here was yet another stigma.
 
After a time we became known and accepted and their friendliness and generosity were extended to us without limitation. Inevitably they were informed about our past mental treatment, but this never swayed nor altered their estimation of us. Their acceptance contributed greatly towards regaining our confidence.
 
During this time we began exploring the possibilities of our becoming student psychiatric nurses. We applied to several hospitals who for their own reasons decided against employing us. In a last attempt (as in all good "Once upon a time" stories) we again applied and were accepted. There were many sceptics who predicted a miserable failure, which only made us more determined to continue and succeed.
 
We have been nurses for four weeks at the time of writing (January, 1966). We are learning things about ourselves, for only by knowing ourselves can we help others. At 7.30 a.m. we leave the Nurses' residence and as we make our way through the corridors to our wards it seems hardly believable that we have progressed to this extent.
 
Our time spent at St. James' Hospital was extremely beneficial and as a result we are now members of the profession of nursing. Through past experiences we have heard patients on their discharge from hospital commend themselves on the excellent progress they have made. We boast of no such thing. We realise, and are extremely grateful for, the patient Psychotherapy afforded to us by the Medical and Nursing Staff, without whose aid we would most probably never have found freedom from a state of confusion. It is our hope that they will find some reward in our recoveries — a reward so justly earned.
G. BENNETT
M. SWANSON
 
Summer 1966
 

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