💔 When Crisis Help Fails: A Mother’s View from the Frontlines
By Sami | Chaos to Calm
Last weekend was one of those nights that will sit heavy on my heart for a long time. My daughter was in crisis, but this time was different. She was at peace with a decision she shouldn’t have been at peace with. She told the Crisis Pad staff she wanted to go to the Bridge and end her life.
The Crisis Pad, run by MIND, did exactly what you’d hope. They didn’t panic, they didn’t dismiss her. They heard her. They believed her. And when they realised just how real the risk was, they called the NHS Crisis Team for emergency psychiatric support.
🚨 The Call for Help
Here’s where things turned from worrying to downright shameful.
The Crisis Pad offered to pay for a taxi to the emergency psychiatric assessment unit, a safe place, staffed with professionals, where she could be seen, assessed, and (hopefully) stabilised.
But when the Crisis Team, the people we trust to step up when things are at their worst, picked up the phone, they didn’t step up at all.
Instead, a woman, let’s call her “D”, asked her:
“If you can drive to the Humber Bridge to end your life, why can’t you drive to the assessment unit?”
🤦♀️ The Damage of Dismissal
Imagine hearing that when you’re at your most fragile. Imagine being told that your desperate plan to end your life is somehow the same as driving for help.
And here’s the chilling thought that keeps me awake at night:
If my daughter had actually been driving towards the Humber Bridge and pulled over to call the Crisis Team, to reach out for help, to say “I’m in crisis” and was met with that sort of dismissive, callous response?
She might have kept driving.
She might have felt there was no point in turning back.
She might not have come home.
That’s what’s so dangerous about this, words aren’t just words in a moment like that. They can decide whether someone finds hope or gives up!
🩹 The Other Cruel Words
It didn’t end there.
D also asked my daughter about her self-harm. She explained that she scratches her skin off because I’ve locked away the knives. I have done everything I could think of to keep her safe at home.
Instead of compassion, D said:
“If you really wanted to cut yourself, you could just go and buy a knife.”
And the final blow?
D told her she was having too much support , as if being in crisis, self-harming and suicidal was somehow an attention grab, not a desperate cry for help.
👩👧 From Mum to Mum: What We Can Do
I’m so grateful to the Crisis Pad for calling me. I went straight to collect her and took her to the emergency unit. Because I refuse to let a dismissive comment stand between my daughter and safety.
I’ve been told I must complain, and I will.
Because these words don’t just sting. They stick.
And in a moment like that, when someone’s clinging to life by their fingernails, the right words can mean everything. My daughter felt completely unvalidated.
🌈 My Hope Going Forward
My heart aches thinking it and i feel physically sick
But it also fuels me.
Because Chaos to Calm isn’t just about the big transformation. It’s also about these little battles, the moments where we refuse to let cold, dismissive words define the care our loved ones get.
To anyone else who’s been here: you’re not alone. I see you. And I’ll keep speaking up, for my daughter, for me, and for every other family who’s faced a night like this.
💌 Want to talk more?
I’m always here to share resources, lend an ear, or help you figure out what to do next if you’re feeling stuck or let down. Join my Mums Group on Facebook.
https://www.facebook.com/groups/chaostocalmsupportformums/
Let’s make sure no one has to walk this path alone.
Sami x
Chaos to Calm 