Psych Hospitals - Good or Putrid?

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I've been to one once, and I do beleive it helped me a lot. It dependso n which one you go too, they arent all horrible. I went to on in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. The nurses are really nice!! I loved it.

English hospitals are just abysmal. I was in one for just under three weeks (I stopped counting after the second). I wasn't even sectioned because I wasn't deemed to be a threat to myself or anyone else, but they still said if I tried to leave they would call the police. There was nowhere to exercise, patients just wandered like zombies through the long corridors.

When I was admitted to hospital, I was on crutches because I had dystonia down my right side. On my first night, the nurse moved my crutches to the other side of the room because I wouldn't stop screaming and then told me I was refusing my medication because I couldn't walk to the medication room without my crutches. When my tics were bad (I was diagnosed back then) they shouted at me to shut up. They refused to give me anything but jacket potato for lunch and dinner because they didn't know how to cater for a lactose intolerant vegetarian. One nurse called me fussy because I wouldn't eat the dairy free MEAT dish she had brought to me.

I'd write more but even though it's been over two years, I still get shaky thinking about it :'(

I personally agree about the boringness. It is in general a safe place, but one where not that much happens. OTOH, it helped me a great deal. Not only the therapies but also the talking to others.

The bit about my son thinking about being a member was about joining the wrong planet site...not joining the psych hospital club! Sorry about not being clear.

The hospitals he has been too just basically drug him till he is a zombie and until he learns to say the right things to get out.

He hates them because they give you roommates that could attack at night, because the shower temp is set automatically and it is way too hot for him (Sensory differences?), the food is never anything like what he will eats so he worries about starving, there is nothing to do, they won't let you lay down or sleep during the day even if they have given you sedating meds, etc.

There is nothing in between that type of lock-in "care" and just a weekly hour with a psychologist. At least nothing for him...

I don't think they're pleasant. At all. It's pretty scary, especially people who are a lot sicker and more unstable than you are, and as others have mentioned, it's boring. But sometimes, they're neccessary if a person is a huge danger to themselves or really can't cope. So I think they serve a valid/useful purpose.

You are right. They are needed in emergencies and I would even go there if I had to. But don't expect lots of magic and be aware that they aren't pleasant. Maybe that awareness will be enough to help you cope.

I was admitted to one in Ontario when I couldn't stop imagining killing my work-bully. Thoughts of revenge had taken over my life. The mental ward was basically a 6-room dorm, two beds per room, and I happened to get a very nice quiet sweet girl as a roommate who just happened to be suicidal. That was sheer luck. Other people had more horrendous and disruptive roommates.

Apart from the six dorm rooms, there was one large meeting room and a tiny kitchen where you could fix yourself bland tea or coffee. There was only one TV and this was only allowed to be on after 4 pm. All the other residents watched shows I had no interest in. They had no books or magazines to read. They had no activities or games or any other ways to pass your time. We had no access to the outdoors or any sort of relief from the UTTER BOREDOM day after day after day.

There were meds, meds, and more meds. If I cried I had Risperidone and Seroquel shoved down my throat without them even asking me why I was crying. They gave me some other much stronger anti-psychotic medication which made me shuffle and drool like a zombie for over a month after the injection, although I was not psychotic. Counselling of any kind consisted only of "group therapy" once a day for an hour where everyone was asked pointless questions that didn't address their specific problems. But no one was mean to me deliberately and the nice nurses, who were overworked, sometimes sat and talked with me for 15 minutes if I begged to have someone to talk to.

Overall, it is a "tolerable" yet deeply boring place but I am sure I could have received better care if I had stayed at home and gone to twice-weekly counselling sessions instead. The only positive outcome was that having been hospitalized, I was placed on the Psychiatrists priority list for accepting new patients. Due to the ordinary wait for a psychiatrist being up to 8 months in Ontario, my being in the hospital bumped me up and I got to see him almost right away. That was the only positive outcome of that experience: being fast-tracked to see a psychiatrist and not have to wait the 8 months. Being in the hospital also wound up substantiating my permanent disability claim which was granted to me automatically.

I was admitted to one three months ago, and came out feeling worse than I went in. I had symptoms of insomnia, I was like that for an entire month. I was showing symptoms of anorexia because my diet is too specific and too unhealthy for mental institutions to consider [sadly, I need a more proper diet, and I will eventually bring this up to my mother]. Secondly, my lifestyle differs so greatly that when I enter a mental institution my first reaction is to panic and worry about when I'll be able to leave. I don't do well under huge amounts of restriction. Plus, I found out my mom paid one thousand bucks for me to stay there a week and felt HORRIBLE.

They serve their purpose. I mainly agreed to go a few months ago for the experience. It was my first time going to a place like that and I figured it'd serve me well. There are some pleasant experiences but for the most part it's all horrible. No one listened to me there, and I felt ignored. No matter how much I begged I couldn't understand why their need to stabilize me involved group activities that weren't focused on my problems.

I felt that as a patient it wasn't fair that smokers got smoking breaks but that I could still smell the smoke from the no smoking zone. So, my experience was that being outside was a lot better than being stuck with no rights at all. But I still smelled the smoke and it was horrible.

Mental institutions, while necessary, can be counterproductive. I still remember that one of the nurses was impressed by me standing up to a couple patients. Sadly, without proper authority being right there I probably would have gotten beaten up for reminding them of the rules. "No smoking past this point" means "No smoking past this point." No offense to anyone here who smokes.

Only one positive thing came of me being at the mental institution, and that is not up for discussion.

For anyone who happens to be confused: I was in the mental institution for a week. However, after leaving the mental institution I spent a month with insomnia and anorexia symptoms.

Well I'm in a psych ward right now, and I must say, it's not really so bad. When I first arrived, I was worried too that it would be like One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, but it's nothing like that. The ward I'm in has a music room, a lounge with a TV, a gym, an activity room with board games and a pool table, and a small library. They take us out a few times a week for coffee or a movie or bowling or something. We've each get our own bedroom with a desk and a closet and everything. It's a really nice place. Not all psych wards are this well-funded or allow this much freedom, but there are definitely good ones out there. If you want to go, I'd just reccomend you bring an ipod, lots of books, lots of pencils and paper, maybe some puzzles or a deck of cards or something, and you'll be fine. Learn to knit, or juggle, or speak Ancient Egyptian. Bring some self-help books and work on yourself. Good luck!

I went into one twice as a kid. Once when I was nine and once when I as sixteen. Both times were horrible and my parents regret sending me there because it made my behavior even worse and even gave me a form of PTSD. I STILL have nightmares. If I was ever going to kill myself, I would never tell anyone about it and just let them find my body. I'd rather be dead than go through that hell hole again.