6:05 am: You lie awake in your tiny bed, underneath the salmon covers, your neck sore from sleeping on one pillow (you asked for another but you’ll need a doctor’s order to have more than one.) Your sleep medicine has worn off and you are now once again a prisoner to your insomnia.
All there is to do now is listen to your roommate snore and mutter to herself in her sleep and the sounds of the nurses talking and phones ringing at the nurses station. You remember a Seroquel-induced nightmare you had previously in the night in which you were trapped in a house that was filling with water, drowning and gasping for air. You make a mental note to mention the dream to your doctor later on.
7:00 am: Morning checks. A tech bangs on your door just as you have started to drift off into a sweet sleep again and informs you that you must be up for breakfast in thirty minutes. You incoherently moan something that resembles an “OK,” roll over and close your eyes again.
7:10 am: Brush your teeth, brush your hair, make your bed, and put on a sweatshirt.
7:15 am: You drag your exhausted body out of bed and grab a cup of the weakest, wateriest coffee you have ever ingested from the nurses station. You line up against the wall and prepare to be paraded down to the cafeteria.
7:30 am: Breakfast time. Today is Friday so it’s pancake day, which means spirits are high among the residents. Eggs with cheese, bacon, grits and cereal are also served in the cafeteria, which reminds you of the one that you ate in during your elementary school years. You opt for Cheerios, which you will eat by putting three at a time into your spoon (you are very ritualistic when it comes to your eating habits) and a few sips of black coffee.
7:45 am: You are put on one-on-one after each and every meal, which means a nurse must accompany you at all times because you are bulimic and they don’t trust you not to vomit up your food. This upsets you greatly and you cry.
8:30 am: Community group. You discuss at length the rules and regulations of the hospital (only use the phone for 10 minutes at a time, bath buckets are under no circumstances to be kept in your room, no towels or food in your rooms, no physical contact with other patients.) Someone complains that their book is missing, someone else cries about something you can’t even comprehend. Someone always cries during your meetings. You set a daily goal (to finish your book, do laundry) and share why you are here.
Most people are there for depression, some for anxiety, many for suicide attempts. One or two are there for insomnia, a few for manic episodes and one boy about your age is there for homicidal ideation. It isn’t as scary as it sounds, he is actually very sweet, close to your age and you are already starting to become close with him. His name is Todd and he beat up one of his friends for stealing his now ex-girlfriend. You yourself are there for a suicide attempt (flashback to overdosing on 3000 milligrams of Seroquel, sleeping for 36 hours and then slitting your wrists, slicing each artery, spewing blood all over the walls of your college dormitory.)
9:10 am: You meet with Dr. Williams, your amazing psychiatrist. He is a young man who always looks perpetually concerned; he is unbelievably kind and compassionate. He runs through the usual routine of questions: do you feel like hurting yourself, how are you sleeping, how is your mood (no, bad, depressed) and he takes you off of your lithium and ups your Abilify. He also prescribes you Ambien, which is stronger than the sleep medicine.
9:47 am: Code one! A 90-pound schizophrenic girl screams and punches the walls (she hears voices and sees monsters that aren’t there) and a code team is called to sedate and restrain her. Incidents like this are uncommon on your unit but not unheard of. They take her away, kicking and screaming.
10:00 am: You and Todd sit side by side reading a book and holding hands. His hand is rough and you can’t help but smile. He makes you a little less scared in an unfamiliar setting like this. A tech glares and scolds you for breaking the coveted “no-touching” policy.
11:30 am: Process group with your social workers. Today’s topic is “combating negative thoughts.” You do an exercise where you write a negative thought and three positive ones to counteract it. Several people cry when they read theirs and one man launches into an off-topic diatribe on the importance of exercise until the social worker, Tonya, politely cuts him off.
A short, older lady who claims to have once been a backup singer for Aerosmith preaches on bipolar disorder.
12:30 pm: Lunchtime. Pizza is being served today so everyone is in good spirits, except for you who is a diagnosed anorexic. You get a salad which you drown in mustard and pepper (anorexics have strange eating habits) and a Diet Coke. You don’t finish your salad and a tech tells you you’re going to lose points for not eating, which means you might have to stay longer. You cry.
1:00 pm: Vital signs are taken. They weigh you and make you stand backward on the scale.
1:15 pm: You drink a ton of coffee and experience a sugar/caffeine-induced mania and decide you’re going to start writing a book. A tech tells you to calm down and makes you drink a glass of water.
2:00 pm: Recreational therapy. You watch the movie “The Karate Kid” and popcorn is served. You don’t eat it, which gets noted in your chart by a tech.
2:30 pm: Education group. A short, older lady who claims to have once been a backup singer for Aerosmith preaches on bipolar disorder and the evils of not being compliant with medication.
4:00 pm: Visitation hour.
5:00 pm: Line up for dinner. Tonight is beef stroganoff (everyone groans) and steamed carrots. You don’t eat and spend dinner hour making an elaborate design out of your peas and carrots.
6:00 pm: You sketch a picture of Todd and he draws one of you. It’s true love.
8:00 pm: Closure group. You review the daily goals you set. Some people meet them, others don’t. You met both of yours (to finish your book and do laundry.) A lady who is in there for bipolar disorder breaks down and sobs for 20 minutes about not achieving her goal.
8:30 pm: Finally out of sight from the techs, you and Todd watch TV, his head in your lap, you stroking his hair.
9:00 pm: Night meds, a very popular time of evening for obvious reasons. Everyone races to be at the front of the line. You would think they were giving out hundred dollar bills and not psychiatric medication. You dutifully take your Seroquel and Gabitril for sleep and your Abilify for depression.
9:30 pm: Everyone hangs out in the common room, laughing and talking about anything and everything. You are a big happy family and for a moment, just a moment, you feel like a normal teenager who is not spending her summer in a mental hospital for being a depressive-borderline personality-bipolar-bulimic-anorexic mess. Life is good.
11:00 pm: “Lights out!” a nurse shouts. The manic patients and insomniacs groan in disdain. Todd kisses you when a tech isn’t looking and your heart melts.
11:15 pm: You happily drift off into a deep, medicated slumber, thinking that today was not all that bad and tomorrow probably won’t be either.
Mental hospitals are very misunderstood places. There is a certain stigma not only attached to being a patient in a mental hospital, but to the whole field of mental health to begin with. The people I met during my stay at Holly Hill were not crazy. They were not nuts. They just needed a little extra help and a safe, relaxing place to recuperate from their problems. Most of the people I met were perfectly normal, functioning members of society with jobs, families, friends and a positive future. Some were students, like myself.
Going to a mental hospital is nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed by and I encourage everyone to take that step if they find it necessary. Life can be overwhelming and sometimes we just need to heal. Holly Hill changed my life. I went in suicidal, depressed, and a terrified mess, and two months later, I came out, in the process of being healed, with new friends, and a new perspective on life. My hospitalization not only saved my life, it changed it.
99 comments
I really enjoyed this segment. I myself am recovering from anorexia/bulimia/depression and have been hospitalized countless times in psychiatric institutions. There is absolutely NOTHING to be ashamed of. I have been together with doctors and lawyers who for some reason or other required intensive care to stabilize themselves and to be able to go on with their lives. Mental institutions should not be a “forbidden” place. They are necessary interventions for regular people who experience difficult times in their lives and are suffering from legitimate diseases of the mind.
I’d rather not have read this. My experience in a “mental hospital” — rather, an inpatient psychiatric unit of a major teaching hospital in California — as a bipolar, suicidally depressed patient was completely different. Perhaps an appellation of “…One Patient’s Perspective” would have been helpful.
I too agree that pschy hospitals aren’t all they are “cracked” up to be. I’ve spent a stint in two different places and both so very different. The first, they were concerned for other’s but concerned in a way that they just didn’t want the other paitents hurting one another. Not a safe feeling at all. If we laughed, they’d run down there in a hurry finding out why. Why? Because someone said something funny, that’s why. Why the concern of laughter when other’s are crying uncontrollably and no one seems to see them. So, laughter, we found out was a huge no no as it attracted the staff and they split up the “party” in a heart beat.
The other place, well that was better. We all had rooms to ourselves which felt somewhat safe. There weren’t locks on the doors but that was understandable but when you have a person there from the courts because of attempts of murder, now, the locks that should have been placed on his doors were just like ours, non existence. That was an unsafe feeling and many of the staff was told this. It took 4 days to get that person moved to a secure area of the hospital, which is where he should have gone to begin with. This set many of us back FOUR days. That’s a lot of time when one is trying to get help. Not only just the four days, it also set us back with trusts issues as far as the staff and hospital is concerned.
Both my experiences were totally different. I was out way before I was really ready but I felt safer at home than at the hospital. I had issues at home hence being at that hospital but it was less at home than at the hospital when it came to being safe. So, I faked my miraculous recovery.
With this said, I also agree with the blogger that posted that it should have been stated something like,
My experience at Holly Hill” because it’s obvious that it’s not THE life at Holly Hill or other hospitals for that matter
kkaattee
Jennifer,
I myself spent some time in holly hill last year. It was very very difficult for me and not at all a pleasant experience. I was however there for suicidal/homicidal tendancies in a bipolar major depressive episode. I had auditory and visual hallucinations. I spent most of the first day in my bed crying on watch, and even when I finally came out of that I never really came around and socialized.
Somehow after 5 days of being a total zombie the staff determined I was not a harm to myself or others any more, and I spent a lot of time on the phone crying hysterically begging to go home.
I was safer there than with my family yes, but I hated being at holly hill. The staff was terrible to me and I found no comfort in the 5 days I spent at the mercy of nurses who (as of just over a year ago) didnt care too much about the patients. *sigh*
I did get better, you will too 🙂
HollyHillPatient,
I know exactly how you feel. I went to Holly Hill for a suicidal attempt (mostly because of trouble at home and a faked attempt and stubborn mother) I learned more about psychological disorders when I went there. This article was a lot like how I felt when there. Now I am currently studying psychology at the University of North Carolina at Wilmington in hopes to eventually recieve my PsyD. It is my hope that this field and specifically Mental Hospitals like Holly Hill do not hire Nurse Ratchets and find innovative ways to treat patients better. Most of the patients there were there because of their parents’ decision to admit them, like me. I cried to my parents to go home every chance I could and eventually did, but I feel horrible for the patients who did not have a home or functional parents to cry to. This post and your response truly made me reflect deeply about my experience. Thank you.
I found this interesting and happily different from my experiences. The place I end up when my bipolar is uncontrollable is somewhere the staff do not care at all. Noone cared that I didn’t eat for 5 days, that the young virtually catatonic lad fell over. The only thing I can relate to is the description of the other patients there. Each person was more caring and willing to help others than any staff, we helped the catatonic lad eat, walk, helped him up, talked to him and even got some responses from him when we treated him as he should have been, normal. Bullying from staff was rife because they could not be bothered to work with you, they treated people that as you said were essentially normal, as if they were deliberately being awkward and not ill, and as if all our problems could be forced away. People were dragged along the floor and just generally treated inhumanly.
That said, I am truly happy that there are good places out there. It may not be something to be ashamed of but some staff should be and either way it does not stop the stigma from others we get from being there. I am not ashamed or unashamed but I still would not tell most other people that I have been.
I am truly glad that hospitalization was a positive experience for you, however, reading this through felt more like a horror story for me. But that’s my perception – not the author’s.
I agree with Sheila A. This totally sounded like a horror story.
Yes it did for me too. If you have just depression or whatever the OP had, you’d probably be fine. I think I could have onset bipolar II, I’ve been having frequent depressive bouts, also episodes of what I believe to be euphoric hypomania (I’m not violent or manipulative anything, that’s the stupid stigma this illness has, I do get a little grumpy though, but I fortunately isolate myself). But I have never gotten tested, and I would rather not…
Yeah when you have that or schizophrenia they’ll treat you like your a rabid dog I bet. No way in hell I’m getting any kind of “Help” that any place offers. It’s funny how people want you to reach out to others when you are depressed, but when you are bipolar, borderline, or a schizo, that’s when the “help” ends.
Wow. Thank you for having the foresight to write about your time at a mental facility.
I too checked myself into a hospital for severe depression, and it was very much like you describe. I will only add that for me, it was a way to safely start a medical plan/routine, start meds under a doctor’s care, be monitored while taking the meds and then have a plan in place once I was discharged. While it certainly wasn’t a happy time in my life, without it I might have died, so I’m very grateful to have had the experience. ~peace~
Pretty much described my experience, relief to be in a safe place 🙂
Touching! Did anything develop further with Todd?
Aside from the love story, this was so much like my stay in the Strong Hospital psychiatric ward. And not having a love life was so unimportant when I think about how closely and quickly I bonded with my fellow patients and the kind nurses and doctors. Some of them were indifferent, sure, but I didn’t find that to be the norm. When they told me I was going home, I actually cried because I wanted to stay. It was the safest I’d ever felt, and it really did change my life. Unfortunately it took two visits, about a week each, but at the end I was different. There’s no reason to be ashamed if you need help, and I encourage anyone who is suffering to ask for it.
I work at a mental hospital as a social worker and this to a tee describes a day for the patients. I have helped several different types of people; lawyers, firefighters, homeless vets, students, as well as just regular joes and janes who lost their job. I am happy to see that former patients have had positive experiences and actually feel like they have been helped. Good luck!
It sounds like you are a lovely social worker. Even when things get tiring please dont stop- you have no idea how much you will make a difference to someones life. I had horrible ones when i was in the shit hole and they drove me further to suicide so please keep it up! X
So glad I found this, and that you wrote this! Reminds me so much of my stay in a similar facility nearly 6 years ago. That place saved my life, and changed it, too. I loved being there..after the first day that is..and I felt so safe there as well. The only parts I hated were the family therapy sessions and when I’d wake up in the middle of the night and see a nurse in my doorway. We weren’t to develop such relationships with the other patients either, though a boy did slip me his phone number and my roommate did end up dating another patient after they both got out.
Like Ivy, I also wanted to stay when it was time for me to leave. That was undeniably the part I hated the most. I am so grateful to have had that experience; I will never forget how it changed me.
If that’s Holly Hill in NC I was there 10 years ago. if So not very helpful place. A year ago in a treatment retreat for a month. Oh Depression- you are quite a interesting. I have a voice now! This morning I did some energy work. All of it a learning and growing and healing- To Our Health All!!!!! We are Worth It!
All good and fairly accurate other than the bit about Cofee…
Both times I’ve been in we weren’t allowed to have coffee, no caffeine at all. Except this one guy that had an ulcer, and apparently it soothed it so he got tea
I really enjoyed reading this b/c it gave me a feel fr someone else’s experience. And you write well. The end did surprise me; did it really change your life, or did you write that as an assignment in order to get released?
I hope you are continuing to accept and love yourself; it’s a long process and you are brave.
I have admitted myself to a mental hospital twice. The first time, I found it very similar to the story. Everyone there seemed “normal” and just in need of some safe time. I do think the patients offered more help and support than any staff did.
The second time, I arrived late afternoon. I happen to be a burn victim that requires high doses of pain medications. My pain management Doc. is in the same building as the psych. ward.The Doc. on staff that night, without ever laying an eye on me, began changing my meds and reducing them, without seeing me to even know why I was on them, he also failed to call my Doc. to verify my dosages. and the next morning when I confronted his actions, he refused to answer my questions, and decided that I didn’t need to be there, and showed me the door!
Excellent piece:) I too have stayed in a few hospitals and all though my last admission was a nightmare and not the break I needed to feel a little better, I was finally properly diagnosed with BPD. They refused me any meds and I remained extremely agitated the entire time however, the treatment I received for a full year and a half afterwards changed my life forever. Thank you for DBT!
Im so glad I read this, it was so heartfelt and I loved working at the psych ward during my practicum as a CNA. The people were so warm, some odd but I was never scared, I actually missed them when I the practicum was up. Really a great experience in my life. Glad you are feeling better!!
Mental hospitals are the scariest places on the planet, and you do not find romance in them. Sorry to shatter the illusions this story has imposed.
Nah, anybody with two braincells to rub will see the truth, that this persons story is the exception not the rule. Quit fooling yourself guys.
I enjoyed my visit in the Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital 5 East wing because it was just like a butterfly in a cuccoon. I just needed a short break from the world to relax, fix medications, talk to people, and realize that there was hope in the world. I came out a new person and will never forget my experiences there.
I am a registered nurse. I worked on the Schizophrenic ward of a local hospital. I find that the stigma around mental health holds so many people back, and I really like the blurb you wrote at the end. People should not be ashamed about getting help! I am in favour of the mental health awareness ads that are circling around Canada (where I live).
In regards to your experience, that is a common one. Some people enjoy/don’t hate their stay, and find it beneficial. In other cases, they feel they are being trapped and would do anything to leave.
The most important ting I learned when I was working there was to just connect with the patients. It’s great hearing their stories, and trying to understand what they are going through. Hopefully this benefits the patients as well, I know mine appreciated it!
Ok, how come you were watching the Karate Kid at 2pm and it only went for half an hour?
An insightful touching view into a world many people are fearful of and unfamiliar with when it comes to mental illness. I was one of those until my boyfriend experienced an injury causing long term Chronic pain and plunged into depression and anxiety. I learned first hand as I watched his mind and body react to daily struggles of sleep deprivation and terror at the thought of facing another day of pain and loss of being able to do the things that brought joy to his life. Life became a litany of Drs, tests, lack of sleep, antidepressants, benzos and a constant search for answers. I think of him today as one of the most heroic people I know for facing his challenges, persisting in getting the help he needed despite believing he was doomed, and finding his way through. We are happily contemplating our marraige. For anyone in this struggle – There is hope and recovery!
Did anyone notice the journal was written as the story of you. it was disturbing.
Im glad to hear that there are mental hospitals out there that are not so unbearable. I was twice placed in a mental institute each for three day intervals. All that place wanted you to do was kill yourself for being there. I had a chair thrown at the back of my head by an out of control child, was placed on medicine that made me very sick, and all the psychiatrist was worried about was you memorizing a stupid song about your feelings.
The only thing that the hospital did to me was make me never want to go back. Which many times made me think that if i ever got down and depressed enough to a certain point, there would be no mistakes and it would all be done with.
Wow, they never allowed us caffeine (unless a doctor allowed it).
Talk about the coffee! If ya wanted the forbidden nectar, one would have to get up at 5:00am and sneak out a rear door, run 50 yards to the cafeteria. Load up a couple large cups and run back!. And if ya think the nurses are onto you while dashing back because they answered the door alarm, then the smart ones would stash the coffee outside the door before coming back in and explain to the nurse you needed fresh air. Wait for the all clear grab your stash and the stay at happy acres is that much tolerable having ol joe with ya.
Bad things happen to good people, And I made some good friends.
Maybe if I were a teenager it wouldn’t have felt so awful to be there. But, being infantalized as an adult did not feel remotely therapeutic. I didn’t find it helpful in the least for depression, in fact I left more despondent. It’s like a summer camp gone very bad. A waste of money in my opinion.
I randomly stumbled upon this website and I am so thankful that I did. My brother had a terrible reaction to some medicine and became manic. My bother was a sophomore in college. At that time in his life, he was a typical college party boy. He took his education forgranted, partied into the late hours of the night, lived at home, didn’t have a job, was mean to me and my sister, and did not value family. Until the day of his birhtday, my mom begin to notice how for the past couple weeks he never left the house, was diving into his math and science classes. It was a nice change. Until my mom wanted to talk him to the doctor and he resisted. It was very scary. He was a 175lb soccer player. Ultimately he had to be sedated. He woke up in the mental hospital. I couldn’t belive it. I was embarrassed, scared, and shocked. He was embarrassed himself too. He did not want his friends to find out that he was a in a mental hospital, So I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone. He would call every chance he possibly could crying (he never cried)and pleading with my mother to let him out. He felt trapped and did not belive that he should be there. I got to visit him once with my parents and it was a life changing event -that i still can not tell people. When I saw him he was bowling with another patient, having fun, and interacting with people he would be making fun of if he was normal. I have never seen him express so much love before. He was respecful and nice and even gave me a hug. He missed me. It had been the first time that I felt like he actually liked me. He continued to talk about how he shouldn’t be there. He said that everybody else was there for depression. The day the doctor finally let him out was a very tough day. He came home and fought with my parents. He was having a trouble adjusting back to his original lifestyle. It has been a year and a half since that trial of his life and still has socail problems. He spends 70% of his time working on homework/learning new things alone in the bacement and the other 30% eating, sleeping, etc.
He has lost all of his relationships with his friends because he doesn’t have time to talk to them with his school work load. It is sad to watch a boy waste his days away. However, through all of this that one visit to the mental hospital has made me want to pursue a education/job in that field of work. The people in the mental hospital were amazing gifts of life that should not be taken forgranted and I felt the need to help them.
You got to drink beverages with caffeine and aspertame in them in a hospital, no less? Sheesh! My psychiatrist won’t allow that at any time and since making that a practice I find that anything like Sugar Free Jello will send me into a manic phase even for a short period or at the least a nervous state for a long period of time! Stick to Water! It’s good advice!
This is a very excellent account of a day in the psych ward. I am a psych tech , though at a very private, upscale facility that’s more like independent living for thos with chronic mental disorders (namely, schizophrenia). I sometimes lament on how much work it is to have to document EVERY event, every patient reaction, every intervention…but reality catches hold and I empathize with the patients. It must be tiring to have every move scrutinized. It’s made me understand psychology and human behavior so much more and helps with my studies in Psych. I wish my patients were as candid as you are, though most lack the capacity to explain themselves properly. I do hope I can be a better practitioner from reading this and gaining a little bit more perspective into what my patients are feeling. Thank you.
Imagine if it ends with her completely forgetting the entire day, and the reader discovers that’s why she’s here?
I spend some time in holly hill previous year. It was difficult, very difficult for me and not at all a pleasurable experience. I was however there for suicidal/homicidal tendencies in a bipolar major depressive episode. I had hearing and visual hallucination. I spent most of the first day in my single bed weeping on watch, and even when I finally came out of that I never really came approximately and socialize.
I used to work in a mental institution, and I have to say it was nothing like this. It could also be because I worked on the geriatric unit AKA the unit where they sent patients none of the other wards wanted to deal with, and it was nothing like this. Sounds like you may have had it easy here. I applaud you for sharing a day of your story, and I agree it is nothing to be ashamed of, but not all places are like this. Especially not where I worked.
Exactly, getting this kind of “help” is the last thing I wanna do.
That was NOTHING like a mental institution.
I thought so.
Your last paragraph is completely out of character with what you have written in the rest of this post, which has nothing in it to suggest healing. Yet you say it was there. I’d be interested in knowing what you found healing in this place of compliance and institution.
Yeah, seems like a good job/place that attracts psychopaths
My experience was very similar to yours minus the close friendship.
I was a patient at a mental hospital before. I wish I could say that it was a helpful experience, but it was awful. It made my depression worse. Emotional, and sometimes physical, abuse occurs far too frequently at mental hospitals and it’s something that desperately needs to be recognized. Good piece, though. You’re right; people should not be ashamed of being patients at mental hospitals or having mental illnesses.
i actually found this to be almost identical to the numerous times i’ve been hospitalized. although i have to say that i don’t think they are very good at treating patients, i think they are good at making you feel safe when you can’t make yourself feel safe. they’re kind of like babysitters. every hospital is different.
From the other replies, this sounds like it has taken place in the U.K. Maybe there are different regulations there. My stay at the Behavior health unit and Wasatch Canyons rehabilitation unit for bipolar type II, in Utah, were only vaguely similar. I do remember the antidepressants, as well as the armed security who would be called if you refused to take it. I remember the no-touching rule, but most of all. unlike this story, I remember the screaming, the suppositories, the shoeless weeks, the aerosol-reeking cafeteria, the lethargy, and the advice that was strictly enforced at these facilities, but is completely useless outside it. I remember the so-called “rights”, the allowed letters that would arrive opened, and the psychiatrists who, while asking you how you feel, would go to your parents to discuss treatment. the former might be because I was a minor, but still.
The one-hour watch that was mentioned, for you who do read thus far, is real. for everyone. they locked my bathroom for an hour after meals for this fat kid.
this is almost identical to my stay in the mental health ward at my local hospital (I was being treated for a suicide attempt but I am also bulimic, have borderline personality disorder and suffer from depression and self harm.. holy mess.. hahaha). From reading the comments I feel as if this is out of the ordinary though and this makes me sad. My stay almost completely healed me from self harm, and although a month stay can’t fix all of my problems, I’m really glad I had that experience. I made one of my best friends there and felt such a community of understanding and acceptance (amongst the majority of my fellow patients) and reconnected with an old classmate, who is now a recovered anorexic, and is working as a nurse.
thank you for sharing your story 🙂
I had an experience similar to Chelsea’s. I actually became friends with a girl named chelsea when I was in the hospital. And I too was getting treatment in a local hospital. I had to respond because this is kind of amazing. Could you be the Chelsea I knew? Errrrr I miss her and all the other amazing people I met during that strange time! Anyway, please respond if you want to, cus I’d love to hear how you’re doing Chelsea, if ur the Chelsea I knew. Either way though, I hope you’re doing well, whether I know you or not 🙂
Hi, Were you in a facility in Sacramento?
That experience was similar to mine.
My experience tells me that a State Mental Hospital is the most horrible place to ever be. Treated like a prisoner… treated with disregard. Even the professional staff was useless.
I”ve had a few stays in private hospitals in the past. They were the only place I got real treatment! I got better there.
I have been hospitalized in a county mental health hospital and found that it was just a housing area for 72 hour holds…they didn’t even have toilet seats. However, I have been hospitalized in a behavioral ward of a medical hospital. We did limited groups in a locked ward (no visits to the cafeteria). A daily visit from an excellent psychiatrist. Phone calls allowed and they even provided calling cards to call long distance. There were no shoes if they had laces (mine did – but the floors were remarkably clean so my socks stayed clean.) We had goals group in the morning and evening, coping skills group once a week, spirituality group twice a week, dietician group, and pharmacy group. (Dietician and pharmacist didn’t always show up). We too had activities group in the evening and they even had a Wii so we bowled a lot. The most important thing was that it felt safe (I have bipolar and was suicidal). Once I go in and the door locks behind me I can let down my guard a bit because it is very difficult to carry through with suicide in a locked ward.
I was in hospital in the 80s three times and i identify with all that has been said. 9pm was a really good time to unwind and socialise and our day followed the same pattern. I am Bipolar and in my late 60s my life has been transformed by taking Seroquel. everyone should spend a week in hospital it would be lifechanging and the stima of mental illness wuold be diminished.
Hello,
I wish my visits could have been as low key. And I hate to cause any fear in anyone, but not every hospital ensures a good safe stay. For me, my stays were a living hell. Both in Teen and Adult psych ward units.
Staff I came in contact with in my teen years in the hospital got off on man handling the kids. They would do things to set off the kids so they could throw them to the floor and such. The adult units were less physically abusive but did their damage in other ways.
Of the attacks, I had the muscles in my arm pulled because they wanted my shoe laces and instead of just asking bent me over my bed and pulled my arm behind my back and up toward my neck. I couldn’t move my arm for 3 days without extream pain.
Another time I was upset, instead of just talking to me, he slammed me to the floor, placed his knee on my spine until he was lifted off the floor. After a series of cracks, I couldn’t move and was in extream pain. I was paralized. He had caused a series spinal injury. Today thankfully I was able to walk again, but due to the damage I will be in diapers for the rest of my life, and I am on 4 different narcotic level pain killers to manage the pain.
Another night, after a bit of a heated call with my mom over sending me to the psych ward yet again, I accidently hung up the phone harder than I intended, but walked calmly to my room to lay down and calm down. The staff told me that since I was upset, I needed to go to solitary. He dragged me to the room and pushed me in and locked the door.
It was 7:30pm and the room was very dark due to the ward lights being turned down for the night. The only light in the room was the moonlight that was shining down between the two building’s and into the room. So I sat in the corner by the window.
The other issue was the room was very cold, had to be low 60’s. I only had on sox, shorts and a t-shirt. No blanket or anything. So to keep warm I sat down, pulled my knees up, pulled my shirt down over my knees and pulled my arms into my shirt and spent the night freaking out. I didn’t get let out until 8:30am the next morning.
I have been terrified of the dark since. I have a lamp on in my room 24/7 with a flashlight back up. And nightlights in every room and hallway. I also can’t be in a room of similar or smaller size for more than a few minutes.
In a adult ward out in New York I had been brought in for my self injury problem I had at the time. Nothing life threatening or even needing stiches. I was held for 3-5 days each time. But I had a Advanced Directive to protect me. I highly recommend it for any adults out there. Here’s one reason why. The doctor wanted to do shock treatment as a punishment, but my friend who was my agent said no. So the following day, the doctor knowing about the PTSD, said that he was told by my friend, that they wanted me to stay another 2 weeks. He wanted me to get upset so I would cancel the Advanced Directive and then find me incompetent and then he could do the shock treatment against my will. I knew he was lying. Caught, the doctor decided to just send me home. But before going out the ward door to go home, he says “If you ever come back here again, Advanced Directive or not, I will do shock treatment on you!”. The following month we got a moving truck and packed up what we could carry and moved 3,000 miles away to California. I was so happy I had the Advanced Directive. The doctor didn’t want to do shock treatment because it would help, he wanted to do it as punishment for being there. So yea, if you don’t already have one, get one. Their free at any hospital.
Long story short, as much more abuse happened, both during my teen years in those places and as a adult, I was diagnosed with PTSD from all the abuse. Not one staff member I reported for abuse was punished. Either there was no proof in the chart as it would be pretty dumb for them to mention such actions in the chart. But also none of the co-workers who saw it would come forward.
-Stanley
in all said and done there just doing a job and after all the years off there perfession they think there know [that kind] of person a bit like the book by the cover but the only problem is once one bad thing happens its recorded and they might not know the truth about what happened right or rong and even punishisg people becouse off rumors or the look of us but it hurts me when i also hear im not the only one i was never abusive or violent i still got the brunt end off the tretment every time im in there stan god bless ya and heres a bit off something to cheer you up i bought a cake and gave it to the staff and sais would any off yous like a section they all took a piece a laughed and walked off into the garden and thought about the realities off what they were writing in ther notes about me when they never comunicated with me and at the docter meetings all 5 mins a week was writing about
but did get out off not taking the depo that make was giving me space oddesyy side effects that they wanted to keep me on and a few other bits and bobs and refused the new meds clozipean whitch they did not like atol talk about walking around that place on egg shells but i find in mentall hospitals the best therapy are the paitents and thats all any patient has in that place people are people docters are docters but i think you will find mentall patients will never hurt as many people as the physks i wonder iff i could see a docter file lol
Hm, my stay of a month in a UK National Health Service psych ward was nothing like this account! All the therapy groups… nothing like that took place, certainly not on a daily basis – maybe once or twice a week. Saw my pdoc once a week, and still managed to see my psychologist once or twice. Having said that, it was the right place to be at the time, the lack of expectations and responsibility gave me the space I needed, and some of the nursing staff were very helpful and kind. Not an experience I hope I have to repeat, however.
I have been in multiple hospitals, but never one like that. The worst was the the New Mexico Behavioral Health Institute. It had horrible food based almost exclusively on carbs. I saw a diabetic told she couldn’t have a cookie, but she could have two helpings of mashed potatoes with extra gravy and two slices of white bread. Another day we got spaghetti with sauce that had the texture of water and scary gray meatballs that made at least one person who was foolish enough to eat them vomit. The chairs are unbelievably uncomfortable molded plastic with no padding. No one over 40 can stay in one long. There may be two condescending education groups, but on many days there is nothing to do but watch TV–not even board games. (I’m not sure how anyone thinks this is therapeutic.) Many patients resorted to the entertainment of sitting on the tile floor and watching the nurse’s station out of boredom. Periodically, they would chase us off, but we always came back. I have a master’s degree in rehabilitation counseling and a am a certified psychosocial rehabilitation professional and I thought warehouses like this closed in the 1950s. Apparently not.
Amazing post, very true and an inspiring read.
While I applaud the effort and see a lot of what I have experienced at mental hospitals (10 hospitalizations in 11 years, 4 different hospitals), I also feel that some of this is a lot nicer than what I’ve experienced. Due to HIPAA laws I’ve seen the good things (visiting hours and centralized dining) turn negative (cramped visiting rooms and trays brought on the inpatient unit). I’d love to see a series of these published, giving different perspectives to educate others on the wide range of experiences that happen at Mental Health Facilities.
i went to a mental hospital very similar to that one. and i agree that most of the people there arent crazy, they just need help with some problems they face in their life. i definatly understand the part about feeling like you are one big happy famly and not troubled people in a mental hospital. my days and nights were almost exactly like that. except we went to the school that was in there and had gym two times a day. but its comforting to know that im not the only person out there who has went to a place like that
I had to go in for the treatment of ADHD and Depression as a young adult into a psychiatric hospital in Wisconsin. There is nothing to be ashamed of. You come out with a deeper understanding of life and that makes you more stronger than the “normal” people around you. Even if you relapse and had to go back in. I think the people here are getting confused between a Psych Hospital/Rehab, a Psychiatric Institution (The place general society thinks as the “nut house”), and a medical hospitals psych ward. The Psych Hospitals are pretty much what she described above to the tee. And are usually the most expensive. The one I stayed at was this and I was lucky to still be covered under parents insurance as it can range from $1000-$3000 a day (I am not kidding). You are given a “syllabus” on your schedule, your own room (usually), is fairly open (no locked doors (accept onto the main unit-a sacrifice you accept as it is just an insurance requirement, most people go there, usually don’t care to “escape” as they went there voluntarily or quickly accept that it is the best for them to be there) nurses behind glass, Nurse ratchets (although there may be the occasional one who does not like her job), etc. The schedule is very much like above and sometimes there are some negative experiences especially if the have a grad student filling in and granted they are mastering in psychology, they still have the stigma from being “normal”. The food at my place was pretty good grade and you were assigned a regular doctor and a psychiatrist. There were “levels”. Usually within a day or two you are put on the highest one.(got to wear shoes with laces, belts, etc.-as they watch you pretty closely on your progress…they can knock you down a level if you relapse there). Also not every one is there for strictly mental illness. Many people are there for drug and alcohol recovery. And in fact, while there were people who were delusional-mostly with mania, etc. The place rarely deals with the severe types such as severe psychosis and Schizophrenia. That place also had excellent out patient programs where you (instead of going to work), you drive to the hospital everyday (sort of like a work schedule), to get back into the “rhythm” of life.
They also had gyms, rock climbing walls, ropes courses, residential treatments, Alcohol treatments, etc. This is what I would consider to be a psychiatric hospital/rehab that I would recommend to be the type that the “Average Joe” who has a major life crises should go OR get transferred too. County mental Institutions/State Mental Hospitals also deal with prisoners and the severely or violent sorts of mental health issues (rarely seen as what I just described) and so you have that “cold” “One who flew over the cookoos nest” Nurse Ratchet like experiences. And a mental ward at a physical hospital…well it is pretty much ran like the rest of the hospital. You are just a patient and you are there to get stable if you are an accute danger to yourself, flip out, or have a drug reaction and the doctors want you to stay at the hospital, but prefer you do so in the mental ward as they will not keep you in the ER for 3 days for the medicine to re normalize or whatever, That is where you get the “cold” nurses behind the glass experience while you get to chat with the “bubbly” schizophrenic. Not so much there for mental health or drug rehab. Remember rehab is a place where the stays are anywhere from 5 days to a month. But at $2000 a day, you get what is being paid for! When the state is paying for your care… yea, I expect some scary experiences. And of course, everyone is dealing with different types of crises, and of course you might not “perceive” the experience as “good” when you yourself is not “good”…but really look back at it and go “I am glad I did it, after a good place will make you “good” or better. If you were a patient, you know what I am trying to say. Thanx….THIS IS WHAT SOCIETY NEEDS TO LEARN… What I just wrote… 😉
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