(rewritten review.) Let me tell you about Professor Michael Reveley and the Mental Health Team within which he worked in Leicester. I suffered child abuse in the Fifties and Sixties consisting of beatings and terrorization at the hands of an extremely malicious father. By the age of sixteen I was exhausted. I couldn't do my school work and I couldn't work at a job. I fled the familly home and lived in god forsaken bedsitters in Bradford, friendless and penniless apart from the pittance that was Social Security at that time. When you suffer child abuse you don't grow up to become Rudolph Valentino. Your ability to make friends and have girlfriends is all but destroyed. My life was a living hell of anxiety, depression, poverty and bad dreams. In 1994 I was living in a dilapidated bungalow in Leicester. My neighbour was aggressive and paranoid. He would make noise all the time which made life hell and would come and bang on the front door with his fist when his illness told him to. The police refused to help being themselves out of sympathy with vulnerable people. Environmental Health didn't help me. They would turn up two hours after I called them having had to attend previous calls. They never caught the neighbour at it and then a manager got shirty with me and shouted at me in the privacy of my own property. At the same time my mother kept phoning me and giving me her take on my childhood abuse. She had always defended my father and lied for him. She would drive me mad with her take on my life and I smashed the phone a couple of times after talking to her. The anxiety and stress at that time in my life were unbearable and I contacted the Mental Health Service for help. They allocated me a psychiatric social worker. He had great difficulty understanding the hell that I was going through. Because he didn't hear the next door neighbour, at the infrequent times that he was round my property, he concluded that there wasn't a problem and that I was just mentally ill. The Mental Health Team back at the hospital, headed by Dr Michael Reveley decided to test out my claim that the neighbour was noisy. Somebody parked outside our properties for half an hour one day, didn't hear anything and the team decided I was paranoid. No amount of reasoning with them could dissuade them from this nonsense. Time passed and nothing was done to help. One day when the anxiety and stress from the neighbour were greatest I broke down. I smashed my posessions including the phone, the television and the computer. The Mental Health Team then decided that I could do with a spell in hospital. I went into the Brandon Unit, Ward 37 in 1995 hoping for help and a cessation of the noise pollution and bullying I was suffering from at home. I was allocated a nurse, key worker. This woman talked nonsense about life and problems all the time. That was the first experience of life on the ward. Then I found that a large proportion of the staff on the ward, about 60% were just simply unpleasant. They had little time for your anxiety and talked rot about virtually everything. One day someone, presumeably a patient, made a mess in the kitchen. I walked in there and there was milk spilled on the side with a couple of slices of bread resting in it. Someone had obviously had a hard time and just lost it. The next thing the kitchen was locked by the cleaner so that none of us could enter it. A note was put on the door saying, "Patients! Due to this kitchen being left in a disgusting state the kitchen will be locked for the next two weeks!" By what authority had the cleaner taken this action? The staff were frequently grumpy. The ward accountant used to come at certain times and do the books at a desk that was in the corridor and main entrance space. One day I sat on a chair not far from her desk and watched the people passing by in the hope of a friendly conversation. The accountant frowned at me and told me, in no uncertain terms, not to sit near her. If you tried talking to the ward staff they talked nonsense about life and problems the accent being on your always being in the wrong. Most of the time they were just out looking for trouble. The point is that everything you ever said was being judged by people who had lower IQ's than you. At that time my mother would ring up every few days wanting to know how I was. The reader of this passage will understand why I didn't want to be bothered by her. When people came and told me that she was on the phone I would say, "Please tell her that I don't want to speak to her." One day I was in the toilet. The key worker somehow knew that I was in there, I don't know how, and came and stood outside the door telling me that my mother was on the phone. I ignored her. She kept on. She kept calling me. Soon afterwards, the Ward Manager, a new name for the Sister, came up to me and offered me a magic marker. She said I was to write on the board by the phone that if there was a call for me that it should be ignored. There was no need for this. The manager was just deliberately putting me in a spot, either I wrote the message or I would be in her bad books. I knew that if I never answered my mum's calls she would become ill and start asking for the staff. I told the manager that I would not be doing as she asked. She looked at me with screwed up eyes and it was obvious that I had said the wrong thing. I had been put into a situation that I couldn't win and now she had it in for me. Later I was in the office for some reason and the staff were going on at me to write the above message. I became angry at the position they were putting me in and lost my temper with them. I gave them a piece of my mind and left. Revely was a hawkish man given to shouting at patients. His thing was to think up a case against you and then confront you with it while being aggressive and raising his voice. This is not something that his colleagues would notice since the bully, like my father, is always nice to everyone else and maltreats the person or persons that he has decided are vulnerable. If you try to talk to other people about it they say, "What? What are you talking about?" One day I was in consultation with Reveley and he raised his voice to me: "What's this I hear about you losing your temper with people for no reason and then shouting at them. What have you got to say to the fact that you have a paranoid illness?!" I was stunned. The team had already decided that I was paranoid and now the ward staff had obviously done their work. And, of course, none of it was true. I was tongue tied after this attack. I just couldn't find words to explain how he had been duped by his staff. When I eventually tried to talk to Revely about their notion that I was suffering from paranoia Revely was so set in his opinion that I was unable to talk sense to him. It was hopeless. I was suffering from paranoid people everywhere, the neighbour, the police, Environmental officers, the grumpy Mental Health staff, a hawkish consultant and it was me who was being bullied with a diagnosis of paranoia! I wrote to Reveley and the Mental Health Team and told them that their diagnosis was wrong giving reasons. I never received a reply. In the end, I could see that the Mental Health System is corrupt and I left one day without telling anyone. I went to live back in the hell that I had left several weeks earlier. I had no other option. I contacted a mental health patients organisation operating in Leicester. They promised me the Earth and went to a tribunal hearing. Here they made an abject mess of my case. Reveley was exonerated by all the other psychiatrists on the panel and my advocate was made a fool of. This showing that psychiatry is infested through and through. So, if you think that psychiatric hospital is a retreat, a haven where you can recuperate, think again. If you think doctors are kind and understanding, well too many of them aren't. If you think that psychiatric staff are helpful, kind and not grumpy and nasty, too many of them are of the latter type. If you are sorry for cleaners who are paid a pittance, too many of them are unpleasant. If you think the Environmental Health know what they're doing, think again. If you think the police are upholders of law and order, think again. As for neighbours you probably know what they can be like. My experience was that at a time when I was going through some of the hardest times of my life I was made worse by the Mental Health System, headed in this case by Dr Michael Reveley.