The challenges of immigration detention were also highlighted by stateless participants who recalled being detained as children. “I arrived in Australia in 2013, when I was 10. I arrived by boat with my siblings and parents. Unfortunately, I remember it all very well, especially the detention centre in Darwin where we were held. It all felt very foreign—I felt like an alien. We weren’t referred to by name. We were referred to by numbers.” — Asma Family separation between detention centres around Australia and between Australia was also observed as traumatic for parents and children. “My son became very unwell on the boat journey. As soon as we got off the boat at Christmas Island he was taken to hospital. My wife was also very unwell, she was bleeding and we were worried about the baby. We told the guards and they dismissed her – said ‘just go have a lie down.’ Then the next day without notice, they came and took her. Took her away from me and the children, didn’t tell us where she was going or why. Didn’t tell us when she would be back. They didn’t tell her either – she didn’t know she was going to be taken to hospital. She begged to take our little one – our youngest child. But they said no. They took her to Darwin – alone. They left us behind. She was all alone, in a new country, without us, unsure if her baby had survived. We didn’t know where Darwin was, how far, when we would see her again. I was left in detention on Christmas Island – one son in hospital, my other children crying for their mother. They didn’t understand what was happening – how could they? Our youngest daughter was two at the time. Still in nappies. She needed her mum.” — Kareem* The ongoing trauma of parents seeing their children in immigration was observed to be strongly felt in stateless parents interviewed for this research. “Detention in Darwin with a young child and a newborn was very hard... My daughter’s earliest memories are of this time. Sometimes she will say to me, “I grew up in a detention centre.” — Yasmin* Family separation between detention centres in Australia and offshore facilities was also observed to be highly traumatic for stateless people, with immediate family members being classified by the Australian government as ‘single adult men’ and transferred offshore accordingly, despite arriving within a family unit. “My brother came with us. When we arrived, he was taken to Nauru. The guards said he was a single man so must go to Nauru. They wouldn’t recognise that he was part of our family. Every day I would ask the guards on Christmas Island – ‘Where is he? Where is my brother?’ They told me nothing.” The protracted periods of uncertainty imposed on stateless people by the existing migration legal and policy framework was observed by health professionals as negatively impacting the mental health of stateless people in Australia. “The protracted nature of those applications, the constant or the protracted time they spend in limbo, not knowing what’s happening. That brings about a whole other set of health complexities around mental health and access to health services.” — Refugee Health Worker Mental health professionals interviewed for this Project spoke to the fact that although stateless people might be physically safe in Australia (compared to trauma experienced in their countries of origin or in transit to Australia) this does not mean that they experience psychologically safety. “These clients often, even if they’re physically safe in Australia, they’re not living in necessarily a psychologically safe state with the uncertainty, the worry for the future, the re-experiencing of the trauma that they’re going through, they’re often in fight or flight, so (treatment) is about safety, stabilisation, regulation, emotional regulation, getting them a bit more involved in the community, whether that’s their community or just the community in general.” — Psychologist, Torture and Trauma Rehabilitation Service Feelings of psychological unsafety in Australia, despite being physically safe from the persecution or trauma they may have experienced prior to their arrival was also observed in the experiences of stateless people we spoke to for this study. One participant identified a lack of knowledge as to the experience of stateless refugees by the medical profession as an exacerbating cause of mental health issues within the community. “When you get to a safer place, people think your problems are over. They’re not. We have family back home who are constantly being killed, trying to escape, and pleading for help. We feel helpless, unable to do anything. We’re already struggling ourselves here. The lack of awareness about mental health when it comes to refugees and their health being neglected is huge. Every time I go to a doctor, I’m always gaslighted. When I have issues I bring up, they’re like, “It’s fine. Just drink water. Just take this medication. Don’t worry about it. You’re still young.” I had one doctor who said to me, to my face. “You’re in Australia. Why are you depressed?” Despite him knowing. Despite him knowing I’m a Rohingya and all I have experienced. I have a long, long history of persecution in my family. I’ve completely given up on going to the doctors.” — Asma — Kareem* Understanding Statelessness in Australia | Peter McMullin Centre on Statelessness 63