Juliet England: Mental health and deafness – the good, the bad and what the community can do

According to charity SignHealth, deaf people are twice as likely to experience mental health issues such as anxiety and depression compared with the hearing population.

And they face the same barriers they face elsewhere – access to meaningful, relevant information in a way they can understand, and knowing what support is out there and how to get it.

For example, there may be a form to fill in to access mental health services, even though written English isn’t everyone’s first language.

Deaf people are also disproportionately more likely to experience isolation, and things are made worse by things like the steady erosion of local deaf clubs which offered vital support and the chance for members to come together in a safe space.

A lack of understanding among mental health professionals, as well as GPs, of deaf issues, or of the importance of BSL, compounds the lack of awareness among some deaf people of their rights, or of the available help and how to source it.

All of these matters were discussed this month at an event at a central London branch of Metro Bank. It was organised by City Lit, an adult learning college with a long tradition of deaf education founded 100 years ago. (Among its first students were returning soldiers from the First World War, deafened and shell-shocked.)

The college put forward an experienced, knowledgeable panel of speakers for this event, as described elsewhere by my writing colleague Liam O’Dell, and it was part of a five-day Mental Wealth Festival held in the capital.

The session was revealing for many reasons. The closure of deaf clubs as a vital form of networking has had more of an impact than I’d realised.

Accessing the right services isn’t always easy for deaf people, who may simply not be aware of what help is on offer, or even, as at least one panellist suggested, fully appreciate what mental health means.

Research from 2011 shows that most want to be assessed by a deaf professional – but that may not always be possible. And there is always the tension between having a BSL interpreter for counselling sessions and having a therapist who can sign, which some may prefer. Ideally, of course, everyone would have the choice.

It doesn’t help that policies and governments change so often. Panellist Herbert Klein, an independent deaf adviser on mental health, said: “In 2000 the (Labour) government made recommendations on these issues. What has happened? Have they been forgotten?

“Deaf people have a powerful voice and a unique perspective on their own experiences, so they must come forward with a strong collective voice.”

Equally, the evening brought home the importance of early intervention, sooner in life. That perhaps means families talking to their children in a way they understand, so they grow up with the right emotional and expressive tools, and full exposure to BSL where necessary. It also means young people having deaf role models they can relate to.

Panellist Lenka Novakova, a deaf adviser for a London mental health NHS trust, said: “GPs do not always understand the deaf difference, and assessments are not always deaf-friendly. Again and again, deaf people are swept under the carpet. They have to fight their way up from the bottom of the pile.

“We can’t allow the government to make decisions on these matters for us. There is talk about mental health provision for the disabled and those from ethnic minorities. What about deaf people?”

Clearly, not all mental health services such as counselling will suit everyone, deaf or hearing. The six hours’ therapy currently available may not be enough. Some may recover more quickly in a workshop setting rather than with one-to-one support, and be less dependent on ongoing treatment afterwards.

Clearly, there is still room for improvement. And there needs to be change from the top in terms of government policy. More professionals working in the sector must do more to understand deafness and the reasons why some may struggle more. Equally, every deaf person must be able to access services in their first language.

As James Watson-O’Neill, panel member and chief executive of SignHealth, put it: “This is our fundamental right.”

If there is better provision and mental health awareness, this will help the deaf community to take greater control of our own mental health, to know when mood slips below the normal ‘bad day’ we all have sometimes, perhaps triggered by a stressful life event. And to take action when it does.

After all, as Watson-O’Neill starkly pointed out, the ultimate consequences of poor mental health could hardly be graver.

Fellow panel member Paul Redfern, a development manager at the British Deaf Association, compared mental health to a clock, ticking down from 12 with limited time to intervene once problems set in and potentially worsen.

Volunteers, peer groups, deaf mental health first-aiders, well-being champions – these things are all well and good. And, most importantly, we all need to learn to look out for each other and to understand when something is wrong with a friend, colleague, relative or partner.

Simple techniques like learning to breathe properly or just going for a walk or having coffee with a friend can make a real difference.

As Watson-O’Neill said: “We all need to be more open, and to show that the community is coming together.”

However, unless and until deaf people have better access to the right information about mental health issues, given in the right way, and easier access to mental health services, it’s going to be much harder for these improvements to happen.