The Stigma of Police Response to People Experiencing a Mental Health Crisis
This story may be upsetting for anyone who has trauma related to police interactions.
You ever have one of those days where you’re super stressed and nothing goes right?
I’d recently signed paperwork to buy my first house after four stressful weeks of going back and forth with a realtor, the bank, and a lawyer. I woke up late and had to be at my provider’s office in 20 minutes. I wouldn’t have enough medication for my upcoming holiday trip if I missed the appointment. In my rush to get there, I grazed my husband’s car while backing out of our driveway.
But I made it right on time and explained my recent stress. My provider asked about suicidal ideation. I shared that I had some thoughts, but nothing close to a plan. Looking back on it, why would I bother buying a house if I were suicidal? Anyway, she asked me if I were to kill myself, how would I do it? “Take a bunch of pills I guess,” I said.
Then she excused herself for a few moments. I thought she got an urgent message about another patient. When she came back, we continued talking normally. I wasn’t upset or angry.
Then I heard police sirens outside and I wondered if a crime was happening in the building. That sound is especially concerning in the era of mass shootings.
A minute later, there was a knock on the door and two cops came into my provider’s office. First, I was confused. Then, I was upset. I’ll never forget that they came in before the EMTs.
I was told I had to go to the hospital. I asked why this was necessary because I didn’t plan to harm myself. A cop searched me for weapons while my provider filled out a Section 12 form. I was strapped to a gurney after begging them not to do this.
A police officer sat beside me in the ambulance and assured me my provider cared and was just trying to help me. In my eyes, it only made things worse for me because I was being treated like a criminal for being stressed and having a bad day.
Because the police showed up to my provider’s office unnecessarily, I didn’t engage in treatment and left the hospital as soon as I could. After that, I was dishonest with my provider about suicidal ideation. I wouldn’t even hint at it because I no longer trusted her. In fact, I hated her and was glad when she later left the practice.
I shared this story with another woman who experienced the same situation. The only difference was that she was a woman of color and her police encounter included being body-slammed and handcuffed.
Another person I met who weighed about 115 lbs. shared with me how five police officers showed up during their mental health crisis, and how they lost it when the cops put their hands on them because they were a sexual assault survivor.
U.S. police officers are trained between 4 and 40 hours for mental health crisis response. Now that I work in mental health, I feel that’s not nearly enough time to understand the complexities of mental health conditions.
More than 1 in 5 people fatally shot by police have mental health conditions, according to a Washington Post database of fatal shootings by on-duty police officers. It doesn’t help that people with mental health conditions are often portrayed as capable of criminal behavior.
Police response during a mental health crisis can be a death sentence, especially for people of color, and a horrible experience for others who have trauma related to violence and police.
There are promising signs things will improve with the launch of 988 and mobile crisis response teams. The HBO Documentary Ernie & Joe: Crisis Cops shows how plain-clothed police officers can respond to those in distress and convince them to give treatment a chance without carrying handcuffs or weapons.
I look forward to seeing more developments on this front. I want a world where people with mental health conditions aren’t treated like criminals, but as people struggling who need help.
If you’re interested in learning more, check out this National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) report on Police Use of Force.
