The Mental Health Carer

By Lara Eastfield

My book is for people who are working as carers and have an interest in aspects of dealing with mental hospital staff, the National Disability Insurance and of the Court. The story will entertain those who like an earthy story of hope, love, suspense and enduring dreams. A story that discusses the issues lived by people with mental illness and their carers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jan 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9781645360100

Lara Eastfield

This is a murder mystery about the life of a single woman and her five children in the isolated parts of Victoria and Tasmania. She did what worked for her and created her own justice in a world dominated by racism, chauvinism, and violent men. This story looks into the ethics and the rules of law that govern our so-called 'egalitarian' way of life.

Book preview

Daughter

About the Author

Lara Eastfield is the writer’s pseudonym, the writer has been a public servant in Australia’s capital city, Canberra, mostly involved in library work. One of her proudest experiences was to work with a small team at the National Library of Australia on the Retrospective Bibliography for the Bicentenary. This was production of all Australian authors’ books between 1901 and 1988. She has also worked in the Red Hill area of Canberra in the embassy belt. She has also enjoyed working in many government departments.

She has more recently been involved in Mental Health and Welfare Work in paid employment, as well as voluntary work. The Private Act within the Health Law prevents any discussion without permission regarding the care of individual patients. So, she has resorted to writing a novel with which she hopes, even though fiction is used, the story will bring to attention the care required by a Medical Health Carer and the difficult plight of people with mental illness.

Dedication

To those who care about helping those less fortunate than themselves.

Copyright Information

Copyright © Lara Eastfield (2019)

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

Ordering Information:

Quantity sales: special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.

Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data

Eastfield, Lara

The Mental Health Carer

ISBN 9781641824910 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781641824927 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781645360100 (E-Book)

The main category of the book — FICTION / Contemporary Women

www.austinmacauley.com/us

First Published (2019)

Austin Macauley Publishers LLC

40 Wall Street, 28th Floor

New York, NY 10005

USA

[e-mail]

[phone]

Acknowledgments

I wish to acknowledge all parent carers for the work they do.

Synopsis

The story is mostly about Lara’s love for her daughter, Angela, as well as the struggles of being her mental health carer. The names in the story are fictitious, based on Lara’s diary notes. The tale details Angela’s relentless pursuit to find love within marriages and her life as a single mom. Angela’s courage and resilience through devastating experiences have been enclosed in this story. Angela’s first husband committed suicide and her second marriage ended in divorce. Angela has involuntary stays in mental hospitals. She becomes a mother for the first time, aged 41 years. Lara struggles with Angela’s violent partners, mental health laws, hospital staff, police, and family courts. Lara’s journey puts her on the wrong side of the law and she has five intervention orders against her. This account is set in a regional city in Victoria.

My intended audiences are people who are working as carers and have an interest in aspects of dealing with mental hospital staff, the National Disability Insurance, and/or the Family Court. The story will entertain those who like an earthy story of hope, love, suspense, and enduring dreams. A story that discusses the issues of people with mental illnesses and their carers.

(Special Note) To all moms with missing sons and daughters, don’t give up hope!

Preface

My Source

Notes from my diary with stories linked with other peoples’ experiences. I have discussed newspapers and articles to give the view of others. I have discussed information from Diagnostics Statistical Manual (DSM,) used by psychiatrists to diagnose patients in Australia and the USA with mental illness. I discuss experiences as a carer with Mental Health Services and the problems I perceive with NDIS, within a large regional city in Victoria. I discuss the Mental Health Privacy Act which prevented psychiatrists reporting pedophilia to police. The Canon Law relating to the Catholic confessional which also prevented priest reporting pedophilia to police. I write about the epidemic of the abused children who suffer mental illness. I write about being involved with some of the victims who were reliving extreme trauma during the Royal Commission into sexual abuse.

My Resolve

My resolve is my choice to never give up caring. This will be my legacy, and perhaps, my demise.

My Belief

The measure of a civilization is how it cares for its most vulnerable.

Introduction

The story is mostly about my love for my daughter, Angela, as well as the struggles of being her mental health carer.

The tale details Angela’s relentless pursuit to find love within marriages and her life as a single mom. It highlights Angela’s courage and resilience through devastating experiences…

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Part 1

The Pregnancy

October 2012

Angela is four months pregnant, and yesterday, she told Mark that he was going to be a father. Mark had immediately told his father David about her pregnancy. David, without any conversation with Mark or with Angela’s family, moved all Angela’s furniture into Mark’s house and organized her house to be rented. Mark, aged 40 years, had never lived with a female or had a long-term relationship with one. Yesterday, I had a vague phone call from Angela, and I made an appointment for this evening to meet her and Mark at her local pub in Ballingoat for tea. It was a freezing night. I said hello to Mark and hugged him. He was shaking and unresponsive.

Mark looked as though he was in shock and seemed miserable. He kept repeating himself, ‘She’s moved in. All her things are in my house.’ He was dressed in a thin T-shirt; I offered him a large warm jacket I had carried in my car. He declined the offer and went on shivering. Mark was over six feet tall. He was thin, with black, balding hair. I never commented on Angela’s move into his house. I felt uneasy and felt that it was not the time to talk about Angela’s move.

November 2012

I had invited Mark and Angela to family gatherings at the farm. I didn’t have an opportunity to get to know Mark. He told Angela later that the farmhouse was dirty.

December 2012

Today, Angela came home to her dad’s farm at Myrville. Her dad, Peter, was in the far-west paddock. I stood in the driveway near the house, watching her white ford drive at a reasonable speed down the half-kilometer drive. My eyes squinted, trying to see who was driving. As her car came closer, I realized the driver was Angela. I was astounded mostly because she wouldn’t drive long distances or on the freeway and she would have come from Ballingoat. I thought, Oh, she must have taken the Old Ballingoat Road. Angela was pregnant and aged 40 years. Her only other pregnancy had ended with a miscarriage at six weeks. This had been with her second husband Luke, and she had been devastated by the loss and suffered a mental breakdown. Last week when I saw Angela, she was happy about being pregnant.

As Angela arrived and before she got out of her car, she said, ‘Mark has gone off his anti-depressants and he is making different threats each day.’ She said, ‘Yesterday Mark threatened to kick me out of his house, because his father has forced him to live with me. The day before, he said that he would get sole custody of my baby and marry a woman ten years younger. The day before that, he said he would sell my baby to his sister Lorraine for $250,000.00.’ Angela had been dating him and others spasmodically for nearly a year. She had more than a vivid imagination; often her account of her personal distressing incidences would be colored with past fears, but always threads of truth. I would always listen because I was very aware of the past traumas she had endured. Angela had always been honest, but her perception was highlighted or distorted by fears. I said, ‘Come inside. I will put the kettle on.’

Over coffee, I heard a horrific story of Mark’s only sister, Lorraine. Apparently, according to Mark, she was unable to have a child as she had an abortion during her early teens. Lorraine, during her twenties, had married trucking magnate John. Unfortunately, John was gay; and over the past ten years, Lorraine had become a heavy drinker. Early in their marriage, Lorraine and John had adopted a five-year-old boy. He was now the age of consent and he had become John’s lover and John was filing for divorce. Lorraine had employed Buddy Lawyers, from Ballingoat, to represent her in the divorce. Buddy Lawyers stood to earn more than Lorraine could possibly gain in her divorce settlement.

John and his father had jointly owned the trucking company. The company owned the Mercedes Lorraine drove and the family home where she lived and worked. She had been working from home for her husband’s firm. Because these assets were listed in John’s father’s name, jointly with John, Lorraine could only claim her personal belongings. She wouldn’t be eligible for any part of John’s home. Mark was a truck driver employed by John. Now that John was filing for a divorce, Mark was angry because his status as the boss’s brother-in-law had diminished and his job maybe in jeopardy. Mark had sent public phone messages to John stating, ‘I know where you are and what you are doing.’ I knew Lorraine was getting a divorce. I knew John was gay and I knew his adopted son was also gay, but I had no evidence they were lovers and Lorraine would be penniless.

Over the past years, when Angela talked about distressing problems, I would quietly suggest Angela check her evidence. Today was not the day for any questions. I did say this was a sad story.

While we had coffee, I listened to this distressing account of Mark’s rejection and Lorraine’s divorce. I wondered what to say. Finally, I asked Angela what she wanted to do. She said, ‘I will stay on the farm.’

I said, ‘OK, what about all your things?’ She suddenly decided to go back to Ballingoat. Angela stood up and walked to the door. So many times, I had watched her drive away. I always felt a pang of pain due to the fear of an unhappy outcome to Angela’s most often unstable, unplanned living arrangements.

Saturday, December 2012

Today, I phoned Angela and asked how she was. She said, ‘Oh, I am on my way with Mark, to Mark’s parents’ house for lunch. Can’t talk now.’

I said, ‘I will see you same time, same place, Monday.’ I always visited Angela at least once a week. Monday was usually the day.

Monday, December 2012

I arrived at Mark’s house in Leningrad at approximately 10am. Angela and I went to Buninyong for lunch. Angela had some morning sickness and was interested mostly in the things she had collected for her unborn baby. Angela talked about how excited Mark’s parents were about having a grandchild. I didn’t raise any questions regarding Mark’s behavior. I made appointments to help her purchase a bassinet and talked about how important it is to have the baby close by during the early months. Angela was consumed with the positive aspects of expecting her baby. She told me that she had given up drinking merlot each evening and was proud of this. She had been having a glass of merlot, for most days for years. There was no thought of any future plans regarding the relationship with Mark.

Monday, December 2012

Today, I arrived at Leningrad at 10am. It was raining. Angela looked depressed. She said, ‘Mark is a clean freak and so fussy that he can’t stand a coffee cup left on a coffee table and each day, I have to wash his towels, sheets, and all his clothes. Even his old truck clothes.’

I said, ‘Oh, did he use to do them before you moved in?’

Angela said, ‘No. His mom did his washing, ironing, cleaning, and cooked most of his meals.’ I helped Angela hang a huge load of washing and then I cleaned some stains off the carpet. Then we went to Buninyong for lunch, and as the rain cleared, we walk around the Botanical Gardens.

Angela and I sat in the tranquil garden setting. I was so glad Angela’s pregnancy was going well and she would have a baby at last. She had mourned the loss of her first pregnancy. She had suffered a severe breakdown and been hospitalized. After she came out of the Grandfred Hospital, she lived with me for more than a year. She studied Childcare and achieved a diploma. Angela had put enormous effort into finding a good partner and having a family, but this seemed to become an elusive dream as she reached 40 years of age. Angela was still beautiful. She had deep blue eyes like her father, small nose, and her mouth had a full pout. Her hair were dark-ash blond, soft, and long. She had high cheekbones and had been a model and a Miss Weekly Times Beauty Queen.

As we sat in the Buninyong Botanical gardens, I felt a sense of history. I believed other mothers would have sat there with their pregnant daughters and I felt at peace. Angela was well. Her usual fears had abated to a large extent. Angela said, ‘Mark’s mother, Liz, was on the same anti-depressants as Mark. Liz had been a very hard worker; she used to work in a pub and cook hundreds of meals each night. Mark’s dad, David, was on an invalid pension and Liz is his carer.’ I realized Angela liked Liz. She enjoyed her company and would spend most weekends at Liz’s house. Liz would cook great meals and she had knitted a beautiful baby rug for Angela’s unborn baby.

I had met Mark’s family. October 2012, it was at a party for Angela’s 40th birthday. I noticed Liz was an extravert, quick to talk about personal issues. When she met my daughter-in-law Lucy, Liz grabbed her and kissed her. Liz took many photos of me without asking even though I tried to hide from the camera. I am not photogenic. Liz was dressed very smartly in gold dress. She seemed over excited. Her conversation was rushed.

She said that David, her husband, had been a school principle, but lost his job due to bureaucracy. She also said that David had kicked their daughter Lorraine in the bum when she was a teenager. Both she and David went outside to smoke and were missing most of the night. I spent most of the evening talking to Lorraine who was beautiful and charming. Mark never spoke to anyone except a male work friend whom Lorraine said she disliked. My overall impression was that the family liked Angela and she had invited them to her party.

Monday, December 2012

Today as I drove from my house in Moonee Ponds to Leningrad, I played classical music. Once I reached the beautiful Central Highland countryside, I felt my usual concerns lift slightly. I arrived 10am at Leningrad. Angela was upset. The first thing Angela said was, ‘Mark and I went to Daylesford on Sunday, and Mark saw an old boyfriend and he would not walk in the street with me. He walked too fast or slowed down and walked behind me. Then he drove like a mad man toward oncoming traffic, saying he wanted to kill himself. He doesn’t want to marry me. He doesn’t want the baby and wants to kill us.’

I said, ‘Has anything like this happened before?’

Angela went on to say, ‘When he is really angry, he goes to his parent’s house and then comes back in a better mood.’ I felt a fear well up in me.

I said, ‘I think it would be better if you lived separate and just visited each other when he is in a good mood.’

That evening Angela drove her car to Myrville. She decided to stay at the farm. She had brought her most valuable jewelry, her private papers, her car was loaded up with her personal things. In 2011, Angela had sold her house in South Yarra after years of living there and boarding out rooms. I had paid the mortgage when her first husband committed suicide. Angela owning her house and having control of who lived there had some benefits.

I promised she could always have a room at my house and at times she had stayed. Angela was clever and found study easy. But her main priority was to get married and have a family. Her relationships being more important than her career, she never stayed to finish a university course or stayed long in a job. Also, because she placed so much importance on relationships, long-term friendships suffered; she had no long-term friends, always new friends.

December 2012, today I went to collect Angela’s furniture from Mark’s house in Leningrad, and Mark’s dad, David, met me. David unnecessarily parked his big four-wheel drive almost touching my little two-door car. He jumped out of his vehicle with enormous vigor and ran towards me. He said, ‘Nothing is inside the house and I will manage this move.’ The removalists arrived and began to pack Angela’s things into their truck. David helped lift the heaviest things and chatted to the removalists.

I was feeling sad, worried, and confused by Mark blatantly rejecting Angela. I wanted to resolve the bad feelings, which I believed would cause future suffering. But in this situation, I felt that perhaps I should just be available when things fell apart because they were two adults aged 40. Peter had disliked Mark from the first meeting, but had been polite and hospitable to him.

My heart was heavy. I believed Angela’s child was put into a disrespectful social role. Mark had insulted our daughter and her child. Being a single mom is not the ideal for any woman let alone the difficulty a child has growing up without two parents. I had also been thinking as I did during the long drive to Leningrad. Perhaps, the separation was a fortunate escape for them both. Mark obviously had problems. He kept a baseball bat next to his front door. Mark’s brother-in-law had asked Mark to give back his guns.

I was glad Angela remained at the farm during the move. She was happy to be there and ready to get involved in the town. I said to David, ‘Well, Mark didn’t marry her, so who will know who the father of her child is.’

David shouted at me, ‘Who do I think the father is?’

I avoided any straight answer; in fact, I was provocative. He went on about how she had gone on a holiday in Tasmania while dating Mark. I said, ‘Well, how would anyone know who the father is? They have not lived together for long nor have they married.’ Spoken from a place of hurt and fear, my negative response to Mark was mostly because he had rejected Angela and partly because I knew he was no way capable of a long-term relationship with Angela.

He was 40 years old and never had been engaged, married or lived with a woman until he met Angela. Their live-together relationship had been short, sour, and unworkable. I felt sorry for him. He had showed a gentle