Elias
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.
‘If you don’t have a stable home and nowhere to run to, you’re fucked.’
Elias is in his early 20s. Growing up with his mum, ‘it wasn’t a good environment,’ he said. He had easy access to drugs and was sexually assaulted.
Elias has been diagnosed with ‘a heap of things’, he told the Royal Commission. ‘I’ve got bad schizophrenia – not mild, and bad depression. I’ve got drug induced psychosis.’
The first time Elias went to juvenile detention he was 10. He’s been in and out of prison ever since. ‘Three weeks is the longest I’ve ever been out since I’ve been 15. Maybe a week or so here and there.’
At the moment Elias is in a privately run prison. ‘[They] don’t know how to deal with mental health,’ he said. He’s been trying to see the mental health nurse for months.
‘I put a request form in and they said you’re on the list but heard nothing more … You only get help if there’s an incident and you hurt someone or slash them up.’
At times, he’s been put in a ‘dry cell’ for a few days. There are padded walls, gowns and mattresses.
Elias said the disability support unit at the state-run prison was much better. There were only 20 people ‘in a pod’ and everyone had their own cell. ‘I can’t be with a cellmate as I’ve bashed a few already.’ He could visit a psychologist and doctor as often as he liked. ‘You just knock on the door and you get help.’ He was also able to go to school every day. And the prison officers were helpful.
Elias wants to go back to the disability support unit but says this won’t happen. ‘They say I can cope in a mainstream jail now.’
The few times Elias has been ‘outside’ he says he has been ‘smothered’ by support services, with no autonomy. Child services made all his decisions until he turned 18, and now the public trustee decides everything.
‘Last time I was out I said I need some [money] and they gave me $70 for clothes, $50 for shoes and $100 for a phone – it wasn’t enough.’
A few years ago child services successfully applied to the NDIS on Elias’s behalf.
‘I like NDIS as I have control. I don’t really have a whole plan, only half a plan as I don’t get a chance to ask for help, I’ve been in jail all my life.’
When he gets out he wants to do things he hasn’t been able to do. ‘I want to learn Centrelink myself. Maybe I’ll go to a footy game and find a job.’
Elias said what he’d like the most is a stable house and a stable routine.
‘You can’t fuck it up if you have stability. If I had a house, maybe not even a job but a structure, I could do it. At my own pace, no pressure and have things there if you need them.’
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.