Watch the clip of her resignation speech, and you will notice Theresa May begins her list of accomplishments with a slight stammer: “That is why I put proper funding for mental health at the heart of our NHS long term plan.” Perhaps it’s because her legacy involves the very opposite of that statement.
Last year, NHS figures showed that around 400,000 young people 18 and under contacted them for active referrals for their mental health. Many of them were referred by their GPs, seeking help for conditions like anxiety, depression and eating disorders.
Yet during the same period, the number of beds allocated to mental health patients fell by 30 per cent, and the number of nurses by 15 per cent. The under-resourced NHS isn’t to blame—it’s the lack of assistance from our conservative government.
An NHS self-referral scheme was sent to me when I was suffering the worst I ever have from anxiety and depression. I was unable to go to my GP, so this concept thrilled me. Six days after filling out the form, I receive a phone call to discuss my mental health further, so they can accurately allocate me to the correct services. They confirm my “severe anxiety,” “severe low mood” and set up additional phone calls.
I never hear from them again. I’m glad I wasn’t suicidal.
With suicide being the leading death of young people, there should have been a concerted push to do better. Indeed, during her premiership, Theresa May has regularly announced that a lot of work needs to be done and that mental health has been “overlooked too long.” Like a scratched record, she has returned to this line—‘things must be done’—with no clarity as to what the ‘things’ are.
The lack of services is the effect. When looking at the causes, we see things like financial disruption and hardship, a lack of disability services, anti-immigration narratives, and inadequate violent and sexual and domestic abuse services—each of them considerably heightened with the Conservative party’s policies. Both academics and journalists have stressed the relationship between austerity and mental health, with nine out of ten NHS mental health trust bosses saying they believe benefit changes have had a negative effect.
Similarly, while the much-delayed draft Domestic Abuse Bill has its strengths, with services facing what researchers have called“significant cuts” over the past decade it’s hard to see what it will be able to do in practice. And while May mentioned the Grenfell inquiry in her speech, a survey earlier this year found individuals living in flats with the now-banned cladding that fueled the fire report their mental health has been “hugely affected.”
Theresa May hasn’t made a difference in the mental health services afforded to the public in England. In fact, she’s been willfully irreverent, repeatedly mentioning the issues we face but doing very little to change them until the last minute. I personally wouldn’t celebrate that. It’s like praising your skill with stitching up someone’s wound—but rewind 10 seconds, and it was you holding the knife.
As Theresa May's voice wavers at the end of the speech and becomes what I consider a terrifying groan, I wondered whether I should feel sympathy for her. Then I consider where those tears were during Grenfell, when Syrian children died after being turned away from our borders and when people committed suicide over her disability cuts. This is Theresa May’s legacy.
Last year, NHS figures showed that around 400,000 young people 18 and under contacted them for active referrals for their mental health. Many of them were referred by their GPs, seeking help for conditions like anxiety, depression and eating disorders.
Yet during the same period, the number of beds allocated to mental health patients fell by 30 per cent, and the number of nurses by 15 per cent. The under-resourced NHS isn’t to blame—it’s the lack of assistance from our conservative government.
An NHS self-referral scheme was sent to me when I was suffering the worst I ever have from anxiety and depression. I was unable to go to my GP, so this concept thrilled me. Six days after filling out the form, I receive a phone call to discuss my mental health further, so they can accurately allocate me to the correct services. They confirm my “severe anxiety,” “severe low mood” and set up additional phone calls.
I never hear from them again. I’m glad I wasn’t suicidal.
With suicide being the leading death of young people, there should have been a concerted push to do better. Indeed, during her premiership, Theresa May has regularly announced that a lot of work needs to be done and that mental health has been “overlooked too long.” Like a scratched record, she has returned to this line—‘things must be done’—with no clarity as to what the ‘things’ are.
Mental health is political
When considering why the demand for mental health services has increased, we also need to ask how governmental policies have allowed this surge to occur in young people. Another of May’s statements, “our national debt is falling but we’re bringing an end to austerity,” can help us answer.The lack of services is the effect. When looking at the causes, we see things like financial disruption and hardship, a lack of disability services, anti-immigration narratives, and inadequate violent and sexual and domestic abuse services—each of them considerably heightened with the Conservative party’s policies. Both academics and journalists have stressed the relationship between austerity and mental health, with nine out of ten NHS mental health trust bosses saying they believe benefit changes have had a negative effect.
Similarly, while the much-delayed draft Domestic Abuse Bill has its strengths, with services facing what researchers have called“significant cuts” over the past decade it’s hard to see what it will be able to do in practice. And while May mentioned the Grenfell inquiry in her speech, a survey earlier this year found individuals living in flats with the now-banned cladding that fueled the fire report their mental health has been “hugely affected.”
A stretched NHS
In January 2019, Theresa May announced that mental health services would get £2.3b of the extra £20b funding in the long-term NHS plan. This is essentially is a long list of where they want money to go. But while the long-term plan could work in a fully functional healthcare structure, when the structure is held up by the weakening arms of a few committed individuals the new plans will only sit heavier on their shoulders. Increasingly, I find myself concerned about the mental health of the NHS staff.Theresa May hasn’t made a difference in the mental health services afforded to the public in England. In fact, she’s been willfully irreverent, repeatedly mentioning the issues we face but doing very little to change them until the last minute. I personally wouldn’t celebrate that. It’s like praising your skill with stitching up someone’s wound—but rewind 10 seconds, and it was you holding the knife.
As Theresa May's voice wavers at the end of the speech and becomes what I consider a terrifying groan, I wondered whether I should feel sympathy for her. Then I consider where those tears were during Grenfell, when Syrian children died after being turned away from our borders and when people committed suicide over her disability cuts. This is Theresa May’s legacy.
