Cee and Karyn
Content Warning: These stories are about violence, abuse, neglect and exploitation and may include references to suicide or self-harming behaviours. They may contain graphic descriptions and strong language and may be distressing. Some narratives may be about First Nations people who have passed away. If you need support, please see Contact & support.
Cee, late teens, started to self-harm and have suicide ideation at 13.
She was diagnosed as autistic with borderline personality disorder, attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder, depression and anxiety.
Cee would ‘slice herself’ in front of her family.
‘Our whole life was controlled by lockboxes for everything – medications, knives,’ her mum Karyn told the Royal Commission. ‘It was hell.’
Karyn spoke of the difficulty finding supported independent living (SIL) respite.
‘It doesn't exist for a girl under the age of 18 in our area. In fact, as a girl over the age of 18, it has been quite difficult.’
Eventually, through a new provider, Karyn found SIL accommodation for Cee with one-on-one support.
Cee loved it because it was in a rural area and there were farm animals on the property. But the support worker would forget to give Cee her medication and let her stay up until 2 am.
After a short time, Cee moved to a brand-new five-bedroom house.
She was their first female client, and for a time their only person in the house. All the support workers were male.
One night, Cee woke up with a man standing over her.
‘There was just no justification for it. None of these houses have locks on the doors, which I don't disagree with. But I do disagree with them behaving like there's not a lock on the door.’
Cee asked for female staff but the provider refused.
She refused to take her medication, and staff believed they were powerless to act.
‘We know the medication wasn't administered accurately because of how it was dispensed,’ Karyn said.
Cee’s behaviour became more and more erratic.
‘She deteriorates really quickly and becomes worse and worse. She's not eating, she's not medicated. She went through complete withdrawal and resulted in the health problems,’ Karyn said. ‘She started eating paper again. It was a lot of cries for help. There was cuts on her arms.’
Cee was admitted to hospital.
Following discharge, she moved to a house almost two hours away.
During COVID 19, Karyn wasn’t able to visit.
She had to organise the internet and a phone for Cee, even though the provider was charging for internet and phone services.
Staff made half-hearted attempts to administer medication and didn’t keep any medication records.
They refused to pick up Cee’s medication from the chemist – Karyn had to beg the pharmacist to drop it off.
On overnight shifts, staff would go to sleep and leave Cee’s medication in a lockbox.
‘If she woke them up they would yell at her.’
Cee started going to the toilet in the backyard because her toilet was filthy and no-one would help her clean it. Instead they left a bucket of bleach for her to use, despite knowing she was suicidal.
‘There were faeces all through her ensuite, right next to her bedroom.’
Staff allowed Cee to have a pocket knife, which she used to self-harm.
‘She was left alone in a [hospital] waiting room with all of her mental health issues. She's severely depressed, she's suicidal. The police have had to come.’
Karyn made a complaint to police about the provider. They agreed there was neglect but said they couldn’t act because they didn’t have jurisdiction. Police suggested she contact the NDIS Quality and Safeguards Commission.
Karyn discovered the provider had no previous experience in disability.
‘The NDIS is a goldmine for them,’ she said.
Cee moved to a house about 30 minutes away from Karyn.
Things are a little better and staff are able to get her to take her medication.
‘She’s ended up in an okay place.’
Disclaimer: This is the story of a person who shared their personal experience with the Royal Commission into Violence, Abuse, Neglect and Exploitation of People with Disability through a submission or private session. The names in this story are pseudonyms. The person who shared this experience was not a witness and their account is not evidence. They did not take an oath or affirmation before providing the story. Nothing in this story constitutes a finding of the Royal Commission. Any views expressed are those of the person who shared their experience, not of the Royal Commission.