{"id":1384,"date":"2022-10-16T19:36:33","date_gmt":"2022-10-16T19:36:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/?p=1384"},"modified":"2022-10-16T19:36:37","modified_gmt":"2022-10-16T19:36:37","slug":"the-advocate","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/the-advocate\/1384\/","title":{"rendered":"The Advocate"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image size-large\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1024\" height=\"683\" src=\"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/storage_emulated_0_Pictures_comica_cartoon1665948871232-1024x683.jpg\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-1385\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/storage_emulated_0_Pictures_comica_cartoon1665948871232.jpg 1024w, https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/storage_emulated_0_Pictures_comica_cartoon1665948871232.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/storage_emulated_0_Pictures_comica_cartoon1665948871232.jpg 768w, https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/storage_emulated_0_Pictures_comica_cartoon1665948871232.jpg 1536w, https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/storage_emulated_0_Pictures_comica_cartoon1665948871232.jpg 1620w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px\" \/><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p>The wind howls around the hospital towers. I squint through the rain, and for a moment the birds overhead look like tiny witches on broomsticks, swooping unpredictably in all directions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u2018Meadowside Child and Adolescent Mental Health Unit,\u2019 a sign announces. Like everything else up here, it is wonky, madness seeping into any semblance of order.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I shudder. I need to get Emily out of here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<!--more-->\n\n\n\n<p>Inside, they have tried to make the place look welcoming. Bright sofas form an arc around the reception area, but they look like a clown\u2019s smile, bleeding into the cracked skin of the walls.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The woman at the front desk stares bleakly at a couple. The man is carrying a bag with a teddy bear\u2019s head poking out between the handles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u2018I\u2019m sorry. You can\u2019t come in outside of visiting hours,\u2019 she\u2019s saying. \u2018I\u2019ll ask one of the nurses to bring it to her.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Then the door beside the desk beeps open. A woman, one of said nurses I presume, breezes through, beaming so widely her eyes are squeezed shut.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u2018I\u2019m an advocate. Here to visit Emily!\u2019 I say, slipping through the door before it closes. No-one replies. No-one follows.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I know where to find her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Two teenage boys are playing table tennis, limbs and elbows jerking awkwardly. The ping pong ball taps out a disjointed rhythm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And there she is in the corner, fidgeting as she flicks through a magazine, too fast to be reading it. She jumps when I call her name and looks up with startled eyes. The magazine falls to the floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Sitting beside her, I grip her hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u2018Remember me, Emily?\u2019 Her hands are shaking. She looks down without answering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u2018They\u2019re trying to convince you that you\u2019re ill again. We must get you out of here before they kill you.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She\u2019s still staring silently at her feet, the toes of her fluffy socks curling inwards.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u2018Here comes one of them now!\u2019 My panic rises as the man draws nearer. I can tell by the over-confident swagger that he\u2019s a psychiatrist. \u2018Quick! Grab a bat from one of those boys and whack him!\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She snatches her hand away and screams.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The psychiatrist is here now. He pretends to be all soothing, speaking softly as he strokes her shoulder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u2018Don\u2019t touch her!\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He leads her away, ignoring me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Once we\u2019re seated in his office, Emily sobs, \u2018She\u2019s back.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I can\u2019t see her face because the psychiatrist is sitting between us. He has no right to shut me out. She\u2019s allowed an advocate! But before I can move around him, his arm shoots out towards his desk, blocking my path.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u2018We need to up the meds,\u2019 he\u2019s saying, passing her something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I nudge him. \u2018You can\u2019t increase the dose without\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I collapse, suddenly weak. I hear foil popping. The glug of water being swallowed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>It\u2019s my hands that fade first, curling into a tendril of smoke. The rest of me follows, until I am just one of the mad whispers in the air.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The wind howls around the hospital towers. I squint through the rain, and for a moment the birds overhead look like tiny witches on broomsticks, swooping unpredictably in all directions. \u2018Meadowside Child and Adolescent Mental Health Unit,\u2019 a sign announces. Like everything else up here, it is wonky, madness seeping into any semblance of order. 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