Mental Hospitals

Post Reply New Topic

Spent a while in one as a teenager,boy could I tell some stories I don't know if it helped or not,but it was not boring and some of the other patients were very interesting to talk to.They had a good art therapy class,I have a painting displayed there,or I did,I don't really care to go back and see.

I feel bad for those who were stuck in a mental hospital and had a bad time there.......

_________________
LIONS-STAMPEDERS-ELKS-ROUGHRIDERS-BLUE BOMBERS-TIGER-CATS-ARGONAUTS-REDBLACKS-ALOUETTES

The Canadian Football League - What We're Made Of

Feel free to talk to me, if you wish.

Every day is a gift- cherish it!

"A true, true friend helps a friend in need."

Couple of weeks (they wanted me longer, but no thanks).

Wasn't too bad. I mean, I could bring food to my room; the cafe was too noisy. They had plenty of doctors for medication and evaluation. Took me a while to get comfortable enough to sleep.

My mother came up every day, which probably made it wayyyyyyyy better than what it was.

I've been hospitalized 3 times for Bipolar disorder, in two different cities.

The first two times were in the first city, and they were each three months long. It wasn't a psych ward, it was an entire psychiatric hospital. They let me keep my cellphone and in the second hospital they let me have a laptop. They even let me have the cord for the laptop most of the time. I actually gave it back to them for a short time when I didn't feel I was safe with it, but eventually got it back.

The first hospitalization was very helpful, there were groups to go to and I even made a couple of friends, although it's been 5 years and we're not in contact any more. The second hospitalization was less helpful but still somewhat helpful, for the last month or so they put me in a step-down unit where we were allowed to come and go as long as we made it back each night.

The third hospitalization was last fall, in the second city. This was just the psych floor of a regular hospital, and I wasn't allowed my cell phone or any electronics, they let me have my iPod but I had to leave the headphones with the nurses when I wasn't using it. There were hardly any groups and it was incredibly boring. All they did was put me on new meds and leave me alone to wait for them to work. They told me I slept all the time because I was depressed, but truly I slept all the time because there was nothing else to do.

If I had to, I would go back to the hospital. I've been lucky and not had any negative experiences. If boredom is the worst I've experienced, then I AM lucky. I'd love to say my plans are to never go back to the hospital again, but with the severity of my bipolar disorder, I will truly never know for sure. But here's hoping.

I was in one for a week back in January because my psych thought I was a danger to myself. I had the "choice" to sign the papers and go in myself or basically be legally committed.

Mostly it was spectacularly boring there-- wasn't much activities to do or even therapy going on. I spent most of the time drawing (with crayons and pencils with no erasers), talking to the other patients, and walking in a circle around the ward (which was a pastime of quite a few people).

The floor staff were mostly competent and I luckily never saw any abuse happen, but the actual doctors were pretty bad, especially the weekend ones. Like Ainsley I was misdiagnosed with Borderline when I was in the hospital. I asked the doc why the heck I was diagnosed with it (because I clearly didn't fit the criteria) and she said it was because "self-harm is a red flag" for it.

The other patients were mostly ok, but some of them were a bit scary. There were a lot of people with serious criminal records, people who were or had been in gangs, people who were there for homicidal urges, etc. I got teased a little bit by some other people, but it was luckily nothing serious, and the one guy actually apologized to me for it.

The rules were pretty strict at the place I was at-- we didn't get to keep pretty much anything. People had to take the shoelaces out of their shoes, etc. Definitely no phones or laptops or anything like that. I have keys on my earrings and I even had to take those off, although luckily I could keep all of my piercings in. The aforementioned pencils had no erasers because the metal holding the eraser on a normal pencil was "too dangerous" and there was a minor freak-out over some staples that were left in a bulletin board. Really kind of silly considering all the other things you can hurt yourself with that they did let us have (plastic utensils, bedsheets, glasses, and so forth).

Been in for depression, in for a couple days for panic disorder, in for a suicide attempt. I actually did fine with it all except for a very few little things.

I was in two different ones in the city I'm from originally and in one for my suicide attempt that's near the town I live in now. You have to remember first that my mother worked in hospitals all my life and took me to work with her a lot, I volunteered in them for years, then worked in them and went to nursing school but dropped out when I got pregnant with my oldest. I'm very, very comfortable with hospitals and understand their rules etc. I've even worked in psych in one of the hospitals that I was actually at in the city, but I worked in other departments too and it was the hospital my mother worked at for about 20 years and I basically grew up there during summers, hanging with her, then volunteering.

Here's the first thing. Rules in psych may be much more restrictive than you personally need, but they can't really change the rules of the particular unit you are in because of that. Yes, it may be ridiculous that you can't use the phone or have to go to some OT class, but the rules are there because they will tend to keep everyone safe or benefit the most people. Other units in the psych area may be more or less restrictive, and you can talk to your doctor about moving you to one of them.

I didn't like being on a locked ward. Not at all, but they are all locked, so I was stuck with that. If you are reasonable and aren't in there on a hold for a suicide attempt or court ordered treatment, then you can simply sign out AMA and be let out. That's something else that made it much easier for me to be in one. I'm very aware of the rules about when you can and can't sign yourself of the hospital against medical advice. And many times you can't in psych.

I really liked the therapy from the doc that was in the hospital I worked at. He was great. Talked to me like a normal person, didn't talk down to me, not like he was so far above me that he couldn't carry on a conversation. By normal person, I mean he seemed normal, not like a cold and standoffish or in a hurry doctor. I liked the food and accomodations there and some people remember me from when I worked there and they remembered my mother. The second time I was in there for depression I got the same doc but was in a different unit because they had moved things around. It was all ok too and I ran into several other people I used to know there. I got along with the nurses and there was no problem. In the first unit there we had to go outside to smoke to the courtyard and it was actually landscaped and beautiful and had a waterfall. We were allowed to sit there when we wanted just to chill. There was tv in the day room and it was furnished a bit nicer than that usual industrial hospital furniture. I enjoyed the OT and they had a gym I could work out at. The second unit I was in there they restricted smoking more but it was on the top floor and used to be CVSICU and there was also a laminar flow room up there which was where we had to go to smoke. It stunk to high heaven and we could smoke once an hour at most or as little as we wanted. Again, the food was good and the accomodations were as well. I did not like this one class we had to take about relaxation, because the lady brought these audio tapes of a progressive relaxation which is something I would enjoy if it wasn't voiced by a guy that sounded like he did the voice overs for every high school film strip from the 1970s. I didn't want to take it because the sound of his voice grated on me, but the one nurse I didn't much care for told me that if I didn't I couldn't smoke for the day. Whatever, I did it. Some of th group therapy was fun and interesting and helpful, but most of it was simply playing these games and stuff. Also, I did disagree with the social worker who ran it a few times but in a civil way and nobody got upset.

The other one in that city I went to was a teaching hospital. I went there for panic disorder. Terrible and constant panic attacks that weren't controlled by meds at all right then. I did not care for being interviewed by groups of residents over and over and simply wanted to get to see a psych so I could talk to him about what meds I should take. It took forever and they didn't help. At that point in time I was actually afraid of most meds and if I felt anything "funny" I'd have a panic attack. I was accused of drug seeking by a social worker but when I spoke to the doctor and explained how if I were drug seeking I would be wanting something that made me feel "funny" or "high" and not wanting to avoid it like the plague like I did at that time. After a couple of days of no help I told him I wanted to just go home and try and find an internist and try some other altrnatives, he agreed and discharged me.

The last one was the one for the suicide attempt in the city near the town I live in now. It wasn't very good at all. The only help I really got was the antidepressants which I told him I needed, the exact ones and the dose I asked for. I spoke with the doctor for less than 5 minutes every morning then had my day filled with all kinds of activities they thought would be helpful, but weren't. I was in a unit with other people who had tried suicide and we all got along fine, and maybe a couple of other people who were in to get meds adjusted for more long term problems. They did not let us smoke, which is common now in hospitals but they refused to give anyone a nicotine patch. The doctor did not give me anything to help sleep for the first few nights which I have to have on those meds because they cause insomnia. Probably cause of the suicide attempt, but who knows. My "therapy" was done by a social worker who also did counseling at his church and it was group therapy and the answer to everybody's problem was prayer or just giving it to God. He also lectured us on how different mental problems present themselves and I think he did that because he had just taken some other class and wanted to show off because they were about ones nobody seemed to have or care about. The OT was hours long and it was with a touchy feely lady who played us New Age music and gave us crayons and told us to draw. That and meals was all I got there. If I hadn't know that the antidepressants would be working soon I probably would have lost it and been locked up on the more restrictive ward because I wouldn't have been able to hold out during the sheer boredom and condescension that I endured during my 72 hour hold.

I honestly don't fear going to a psych unit and would gladly go to one when I'm really losing it if I had insurance. The one I would have to go to (the one above) wouldn't do much of anything to help me, so there is no need to go there. If you have insurance, if it's not a teaching hospital, and if you treat the staff with respect and understanding, then you can find some good experiences and help in those places. In fact, just lately, if I had been able to I would have hightailed myself back to that first one I went to that I used to work at. Where the real help is.

In other words, if at all possible, treat it like you are a consumer, because you are. Try to find the best you can find.

_________________
I'm giving it another shot. We will see.
My forum is still there and everyone is welcome to come join as well. There is a private women only subforum there if anyone is interested. Also, there is no CAPTCHA.

The link to the forum is http://www.rightplanet.proboards.com

First, I always had doubts about psychiatry, I never thought psychiatrists as doctors and after my involuntary commitment, I read lots of books from Thomas Szasz and I must say, I don't see how there can be such a thing as mind disease, simply because mind is not matter. There are brain diseases, but not mind diseases, so I don't see the need for psychiatrists. I see problems in living and certain kinds of people.

I was committed involuntarily (had a meltdown that apparently looked psychotic...) and had one of the worst experiences of my whole life (and I've had A LOT of horrendeous experiences), first, they violently dragged me to the hospital when I refused to walk there and told them I will not participate because I see involuntary commitment as human rights violation, they dragged me there and then restrained me. I was at no point violent towards anyone, but they wrote on my paper that I was violent! They just lied! How could I have been violent at any moment when I just refused to come to the hospital, was standing by myself and THEY gripped my hands and feet and dragged me there forcefully! So psychiatrist came to talk with me after this for three minutes, no kidding, three. In three minutes she asked some stupid questions and I answered them, and then I asked her a question but she just left. So in three minutes she decided that I was psychotic, when I was not. I had no hallucinations, no delusions, she just couldn't understand my way of communicating. She criticised that I didn't answer her questions properly, I answered her questions! How I'm supposed to know how to answer her questions properly for not to be labeled psychotic, when she didn't even bother to answer my question? But then again, my whole life I've had difficulty connecting with people and talking to them, that doesn't fill the criteria for psychosis obviously.

A nurse came to talk with me after this psychiatrist and actually listened to me and wrote down that I was not psychotic.
So, even though I was NOT psychotic and I was just peacefully sitting in my room I got involuntarily drugged with Haldol after seeing this nurse (I got drugged heavily everyday I was there with Haldol and Restoril) and I still have nightmares about this horror and I'm now diagnosed with PTSD because of it.

In the hospital I was mostly in my own room sleeping drugged zombie and because of Haldol, my body was so stiff I could hardly move my limbs for week and a half. I was in terror, Haldod is one of the most brain damaging drugs and I got Parkinson's symptoms.
The nurse who came to talk with me after the first psychiatrist I saw was the only nurse who talked to me, rest of them were just mean to me, I swear not my imagination, they were MEAN (like threatening me with injections when I was completely peaceful and calm at all times staying in my room, and I swear they did it with a wicked smile on their face, It was horrible and I felt humiliated and scared ).

I got out after a few days because they couldn't find any mental illnesses in me, but they still refuse to admit that my psychosis diagnosis was a mistake and that I was at no point violent towards anyone!! I'm so annoyed
My experience was horrendous, I'm now seen as violent psycho, when I have NEVER been violent or psychotic!
And they wrote down that I'm weird! Not really professional to use that word I don't think...

I have been in mental hospitals before for depression, anxiety and anorexia when I was underaged and the treatment was ridiculous. For example, my "psychotherapy" was just quietness. I Didn't say anything, my therapist didn't say anything, she didn't even ask me questions. I used to just stare at the floor and ask every ten minutes "can I leave now?". She would never let me leave early. It was so stupid and I was forced to see her even though I didn't want to, she seemed to have zero desire to help me and was there just to get her paycheck. Other than that, in the hospitals, the treatment has been just drugs. I have been on Zyprexa, Seroquel, Haldol, Nozinan, Zoloft, Diazepam, Restoril, Cipralex and Luvox so no wonder if I can't function too well anymore. I must have a massive brain damage. I never wanted psychiatric drugs in the first place but was forced to start them when I was 14.
Psychiatry has brought me nothing but misery, they have not helped me in any way, shape or form and I have not seen any real motivation from them to help me, I think it just that, people don't like me, never have. Most psychiatrists really don't seem to understand how the mind "works".

Sadly psychiatry is the only "help" for people who have no friends, nowhere else to ask for help. Psychiatrists only have brain damaging drugs to offer. There's nowhere for me to go when I'm in desperation. And I'm in desperation and suicide really seems like the only logical solution

I've been sectioned three times and have never had a genuinely bad experience as a result of hospitalisation - rather the only bad time I had was because I had a manic dysphoric episode which lasted for several months (I have bipolar disorder along with my AS).

Reading some people's stories I'm glad that I live in a progressive liberal city in a country where human rights law has almost absolute supremacy (Edinburgh in Scotland). Whilst the main psychiatric hospital is a bit run-down - they're replacing much of it soon - it's a generally civilised environment and most of the doctors appear to operate on the basis of the minimum necessary intervention so it's rare to see someone who is drugged up like a zombie on a wide cocktail of drugs.

The longest period I spent sectioned was over two years in the medium security psychiatric unit which was built just over ten years ago. I was allowed my laptops, raspberry pi, Xbox 360, PS3, all my DVDs, CDs and Blu-rays along with all my books and my own TV all in my one room with en-suite. The rest of the hospital is mostly dorms but when they redevelop it they're moving to single rooms for all patients.

The only thing I wasn't allowed in the secure unit was my mobile phone but I was allowed access to that when I had pass off the ward.

My AS was actually diagnosed when I was in the secure unit. Prior to that I had been in the intensive psychiatric care unit after having another acute psychotic episode and one of the fellow patients said 'You're autistic'. After being moved to the medium secure unit, another patient said one day 'you're autistic' and shortly after that my mental health officer (a specially trained and qualified type of social worker) said to my clinical team that she wondered if I had Asperger syndrome which apparently caused everyone to go 'of course!' then a formal diagnosis was made.