Sacrifice is always for me synonymous with a choice. Yet I am reminded that the greatest sacrifice of my life I realised on the second incarcertion in England thirteen years ago. During the three months of what can only be described as living hell. Some other patients became aware of the circustamces surrounding my dentention. Whilst on their leave visits they arranged to borrow a DVD called I am Sam. They arranged the TV room andIwas invited to the screening of the film. It is the moving story of a man with specific needs raising a young female child, Social workers are seeking to remove the child because they deem him incapable of providing for the childs needs.
It was this incaceration orchestraed by the rapist and colleagues,in the Police service, that lead to the permanent removal of my youngest child from my care. The diagnosis was incorreclty made of a psychoic disorder that required me to lose my driving licence, my liberty and non consensual drugging with powerful antispychotic medications. I was held in the secure area of the hospital with its plastic floors walls and locked windows. The routines were institutional. I had no clothing with me or personal posessions. I had my driving licence revoked. My weekly visits to the review meeting was sitting in the middle of a circle with men and women, social workers, healthcare, psychiatrists. Usually for one hour as they ‘authorised’ further detention each week for three months.
There were no visits, yet the rapist was given an audience with the doctors. The notes in the recent court case make it clear that that he told the doctor that I had Iied about his actions. With every day week and month that passed, I was more determined to not be crushed by these ‘professionals. At that time I was aware that the medications and processes were ‘experiemental’ I was at that time however unaware that my famillies birth names were likely changed a few generations before. That the connotation of experiementing on me and my children, with possible Jewish heritage, shines a different light on the actions of these people.
Yet I remember that film curled up on the sofa. A group of starngers who were having treatment, who sat with me as I sobbed, picturing my small child literally removed from seeing me at all. These strangers, made tea for me, sat with me. Comforting with company. It is a memory that is both special and synonymous with the sacrifice of my child and parenting. This was not the sacrifice that i made. It was sacrifice forced upon me as so many things in England have been. Experimentation, sexual violence, discrimination and discovering the secret of my family heritage.
So sacrifice was forced upon me. Is that sacrifice ? Or is it abuse… ? Turns out the High Court agrees that it was intimidation, violence, rape and corrupt practices by so called professionals. So with this very significant sacrifice in my life, I answer this question that the biggest sacrifice was financial. The money from my mum, personal posessions, the life insurance, my husband and I had organised upon marriage so that either of us would be financially settled. All stolen by the actions of men and their female sidekicks. As the financial settlement is decided, I receive a letter from the National Health Service. They wanted me to sign for them claiming compensation for my treatment ! Before I have been compensated, the local authority are trying to claim money for drug experiemtnation, forced medicating, misdiagnosing, refusing some physical treaments and removal of all healthcare when the claim was first entered. As I contemplate the sacrifices forced on me. The beatings, the sexual assaults to silence me, the thefts, criminal damage and burglaries. These are sacrifices. In truth the greatest sacrifice has been my feeling unsafe in the country in which I was born.
Cue Sam… not the Sam on the DVD but my newest addition to the family. He is a golden labrador. His arrival was an attempt to make sure that Ihave some security. Dogs are both a deterrant, early warning, great judges of character and protective. It is more usual for a puppy to choose their owner. I arrived for the pre visit to select my puppy. A green collared pup bounded over to me. He sat on my feet, climbed onto the sofa and lap, licking my hands and arms. The puppy the breeder has selected is not the green collar. Stood away from the group is a tubby pup, black collar. He is apart from his bothers and sisters. He sits, looks at me and hides behind the sofa. I laugh, the perfect puppy. On the day of his collection he and green collar are the only ones left. Green collar climbs into the car carrier, having sat on my feet. Sam stares at me. Not keen on getting in the carrier, not so keen on seeing me. This bundle of puppy I chose. Breaking all puppy rules. Having a dog is a sacrifice of time and financially. Yet he already guards and woofs if groups come too close. Albeit the rest of the time he is quiet and relaxed. He feeds and eats and sleeps and plays…This animal who can travel and at home in the farmhouse can have lots of long walks, is in essence the living embodiment of sacrifice. He does not choose me, yet I have selected him for temperament, independance, trainability and to bring not just joy but that feeling of safety to my life….