Jean’s Story: Changing how we understand ‘hearing voices’

For over 30 years, Jean helped others feel seen, safe and heard. This is the story of a legacy led by lived experience.

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“There has to be a better way.” That thought guided Jean through decades of lived experience, trial and error to eventually creating what would become the Hearing Voices service in Fife: a service run by Change Mental Health that has supported people for 30 years.

From speaking in whispers on psychiatric wards to building a trusted service that continues to support people today, Jean has spent much of her life challenging silence and stigma.

Jean’s journey with mental health began when she was around 15. Growing up on a farm in a rural community where mental health awareness was poor, the subject was practically non-existent. She remembers feeling unsettled and unsure of what was happening in her own mind.

“They just thought I was a trouble,” Jean says of her family. “Nobody asked what was really going on. You were just expected to get on with life.” So, she did.

At 15, Jean was considered an adult. She left home and moved from town to town, picking up whatever jobs she could find and trying to keep going.

When she was 17, she moved to Edinburgh and that’s where she met her husband. “My husband was my lifesaver. Lots of people would have walked away – he stuck through.” But because of his work, they moved around a lot, which added further instability to Jean’s already fragile mental health.

For a while, she even believed that changing her location might help her escape the confusion and voices she carried. “I kept thinking if I move somewhere else, it would be different. At some point I’ve realised that I’m taking my head with me. Nothing will change.”

It wasn’t until she was 23 that she was diagnosed with bipolar.

“You have to think back to when I was diagnosed with bipolar nearly 50 years ago. It was a very different world. You weren’t allowed to talk about your voices. That was colluding.”

There were no peer support groups, no safety in disclosure. Voices were something to be feared, pathologised and hidden.

The years that followed were marked by instability and long periods in hospital. Jean’s honesty about that time is raw. “After the 17th suicide attempt, I thought, I’m not very good at this. I’m going to give up and just try to live.”

And then, by complete luck, Jean found others who believed there had to be a different way to approach voices.

finding steady ground through shared experience

Over 30 years ago, way before the group became a funded service, Jean and others were already shaping what would become the Hearing Voices service in Fife. That group had humble beginnings and started during one of Jean’s many admissions to the ward of a local hospital’s psychiatric unit.

“Another patient came in, sat down beside me and whispered, ‘Do you hear voices too?’ and I went ‘Oh, God, they are transmitting, everybody knows.’

“And she responded ‘No, no! Oh, it’s fine. I hear them too.’”

That patient was Pauline.

They started speaking to and supporting each other. It wasn’t long before they imagined a space where others like them could meet and realise that they are not alone.

At first, the group was informal. It had people with shared experiences coming together when they could. But over time, as more people attended, it became clear the group needed structure and funding to continue. That’s when they secured funding from Fife Council. But around that time, an integral part of the group in Pauline decided to step away.

“She didn’t want to be part of something tied to systems she had lost trust in,” Jean explains. “Pauline had seen too much harm on wards where people were drugged and silenced. We were like the walking zombies. She tried, but none of us were really stable enough to make it a success. Hiring rooms and things was difficult.”

That’s when Marjorie came into the picture and she brought with her a clear vision for what the group could become.

Marjorie understood the value of creating a space that was both peer-led and professionally respected. She recognised that some people needed one-to-one support before they could even contemplate joining a group. She built links with psychiatrists, psychologists and Community Psychiatric Nurse (CPN) teams to help make those softer transitions possible. She believed deeply in listening to lived experiences to shape better practice. She made it clear that the learning had to come from those who used the service, not just those who worked in it.

Jean remembers learning a lot from her. “Accepting this as your normal,” she says. “Marjorie was very interested in looking into all the reasons people can hear voices.”

With Marjorie’s support and structure, the group formally became the Hearing Voices service in Fife.

learning without a manual

Jean didn’t follow a manual. There wasn’t one. “All of it is just thinking that there has to be a better way,” she says. “In the groups, people share and you learn from them. You think that we can make this work.”

She helped write the first information booklets for the Hearing Voices service, navigated council reporting systems and mentored people through fear and confusion. She also helped shape the group’s values: strong boundaries, shared ownership and ensuring confidentiality.

When the Hearing Voices service started, working with voices without medication was still a new and often dismissed idea. Everything was a live experiment – it was constant trial and error. That spirit of learning and adapting still defines the service today.

“It’s the people that make Hearing Voices, the people that come to the groups. It’s relaxed, safe and all about trust. That’s a huge thing.”

Jean believed in grounding techniques, sensory boxes, challenging irrational thoughts and, above all, meeting people as people. “You’re only your own expert.”

She became the person people turned to.

“Somebody having faith in you is great. When the support worker role came up, it was one of the Hearing Voices group members who said, ‘You should apply for this.’

“Marjorie had mentioned it in the group and they all went, ‘Yes, you could.’ They were at my back all the way. It meant a lot – people believing in me, pushing me to believe in myself.”

Jean applied and got the role in 2000. She went on to support others in the very same service that had once helped her through some of the hardest moments, working there for 21 years until her retirement in September 2021.

a family perspective

Now 71 years old, Jean is retired. But she still attends the group, this time as a member. Her perspective to voices changed over time. “My voices have never gone away. They don’t have the courtesy to be gone. I’ll be dealing with this until the end of my days.”

Jean has seen mental health not only through her own lens but as a mother too. “My oldest son has bipolar. It’s a misfiring in the brain. It’s just wired up a wee bit differently. You just need to find whatever works for you to get the two wires to connect properly.”

She reflects on the long psychiatric admissions and the impact on her children. “There weren’t short admissions in those days. Ten months I was in there and when I was unwell, I didn’t want my kids to see me. Child protection came to speak to them to ask if they were frightened of me.”

Her younger son’s answer stayed with her: “No, she gets bewildered and has episodes, but we’re not frightened of her.” That answer has since become a family phrase.

Jean said:

“That’s how he sees it. He accepts me because that’s how his mum is. And when I know I’m getting unwell, I promised I would just reach out to people. That’s hard sometimes and that’s the next part of the journey – accepting that I will get worse at times, but it’s difficult.”

understanding voices, understanding people

Jean believes that to truly support someone who hears voices, you have to look beyond symptoms. “There’s such variety of people using Hearing Voices. Mental health and intelligence are not correlated. Two different things completely.”

She sees trauma as often central. “When you start to work with someone, you need to ask yourself a question: does understanding their trauma and support for that take precedence over working with voices? You’ve got to understand and balance it.”

Jean also challenges the idea that hearing voices is always a sign of illness.

“It’s common to hear voices, but an inner voice – that’s quite different from a voice-hearing experience. If it’s one in four with mental health issues, just look out your window – four people walking down the street, one of them has a mental illness.”

She adds: “We used to be in this special group when I was diagnosed, but we’re not now. It’s the special one which is not affected by mental health issues, directly, as a carer or a family member and friend.”

“I’m glad this place survived. This organisation survived. We’ve been very fortunate.” But she doesn’t stop talking about what’s important. “If I became unwell now, the only local option is basically a dementia unit. It’s terrifying. Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you stop needing tailored support. We deserve a space to be treated for our condition and get the support which is needed.”

get involved

If you’ve been inspired by this story, why not explore how you can make a difference too? We’ve got loads of ways to get involved — from helping at events to supporting our services.

Check out our current volunteering opportunities and see how you can support mental health in your community. If you’re interested or have any questions, get in touch with us — we’d love to hear from you! Read more about volunteering opportunities at Change Mental Health here.

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Contact 0808 8010 515, email us at advice@changemh.org or fill out the enquiry form on the Advice and Support Service page.