Terence
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.
Terence is a First Nations man in his 50s. He has epilepsy, an acquired brain injury and mental health issues.
He told the Royal Commission that ‘racial’ attitudes towards him as a child marked him for life.
‘In my younger days, when I used to go to school and stuff like that, there was racial [discrimination] back then.’
In his late teens, Terence said, he was ‘bashed and tortured by the police walking from one pub to another’. He now lives with anxiety and paranoia.
‘I can’t be around a lot of people … I suppose it’s just because of what’s been happened in the past.’
About 10 years ago Terence had a brain aneurysm and began receiving the Disability Support Pension (DSP).
A few years after that, he was sentenced to prison.
‘I got the blame for starting a riot. So, I was the one who got charged … It was hurtful. I got in trouble for it, you know.’
He said he received almost no support for his disability while he was in prison.
‘The only consideration they gave me was a bottom bunk … because of my epilepsy.’
Terence said authorities should have provided counselling services.
‘But it didn’t happen. Which makes it harder for people like me … They should realise that we need their help, and really not neglect us.’
He felt he’d been left on his own, other than the occasional visit from the Aboriginal liaison officer.
‘That was the only person I could trust, like, to speak to. So, it was hard in there.’
Terence has four children, but his family rarely visited. ‘I don’t think my old man and my son liked coming in there,’ he said.
‘It’s hard for a lot of people in there to see family … You’ve got no-one in there. Every prison is like that. It’s terrible.’
Terence said health care in prison was negligent. Medical staff constantly changed the drugs to treat his depression without informing him.
‘I don’t know why, but they swap their pills [around] … and they muck it up for people.’
When he was released after about four years in prison, it took Terence a while to get back on the DSP.
‘They reckoned that I wasn’t sick enough.’
He was put on JobSeeker and struggled to pay for board and food.
A lawyer is now helping him apply for NDIS funding based on his psychosocial disability.
‘Just to help me in any way I need … In the home and out in the community.’
Terence feels his visits to psychiatrists are helping.
‘I used to chuck a real lot of fits … I’ve calmed down a fair bit since.’
But sometimes he has to lock himself in his room to get away ‘and stop thinking the worst’.
‘It’s terrible, you know, anxiety and depression. It just gets too much. But I’m getting along with it.’
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.