Experiences in a psychiatric hospital

[Missykins]

i was recently hospitalized in a psychiatric hospital after an overdose of pills. Some things I remember, some things I don't. My friends tell me that I shouldn't try to remember what happened, but I disagree.

Here's a brief synopsis:

It wasn't my choice to go to the psych ward. My father found me incoherent after taking a handful of sleeping pills. If one is good, then surely twenty is better, right? I took an entire bottle of Seroquel 300's and a handful of gabapentin 600 mgs, too. They also tried to tell me that I took enough Suboxone (which I recently began to take again--he was concerned that I would start using opiates again) such that I only had enough left for eleven days. Well, that wasn't true because when I got home I had two full, unopened boxes left. I don't remember much of it, except trying to pull out my urinary catheter and being bitched at by the nurse. I thought I was having a nightmare and wanted to leave but security was at the end of my bed. I tried to get up and leave at least three times. My brother and father said to me "I hope you've learned your lesson."

I was involuntarily sent to the pysch ward after two lousy days in the ER. I was very resistant the first day or two but I had an excellent psychiatrist who would say "pills don't listen to you, love you, and give you encouragement" and eventually I began to come around. For the most part, I liked my fellow patients and developed close relationships with them. We watched "Titanic" on the VCR and one girl could play the theme song on her flute, only to infuriate one of the mean patients.

I had a family meeting with my father and psychiatrist and he said that my mental illness is a character flaw, and I needed a kick in the ass to get moving. He recently found out that he has prostate cancer, and I would never say that to him.

I felt safe there. Frankly, I would have stayed longer than fifteen days if I could have but they felt I was ready for discharge.


Does anyone else have their experiences to share? Also, are my friends right about not trying to learn what got me there?

 

[MescalitoBandito]

I have many experiences that come to mind, but none more vivid than having a big squat jamaican staffer busting into a bathroom door to interrupt the blowjob i was getting. Overall it was a negative experience

 

[Missykins]

I have many experiences that come to mind, but none more vivid than having a big squat jamaican staffer busting into a bathroom door to interrupt the blowjob i was getting. Overall it was a negative experience

Because the fellatio was interrupted or for other reasons?

 

[herbavore]

I was involuntarily committed after a suicide attempt (really just extreme self harm) at 16. I was angry, full of despair and totally confused. Back in those days (the 70's LOL!) a two week stay was normal for such a situation. I was given Thorazine and Haldol (sp?). I had been doing lots of psychedelics and hallucinated and heard voices even when not on them. I remember feeling pretty relieved to be there after I got past being angry that someone forced it on me. At first I told them about the voices, etc. but then I realized that I may go on to the State mental hospital and that scared me to death. After that it just became a game for me to figure out what they wanted to hear to deem me sane. I ended up getting out at the end with all the same feelings and psychosis that I went in with but I felt more in control of what I showed the outside world. After stopping the psychedelic usage life began to slowly normalize a bit more. I stopped hearing the voice and had a much better grasp on reality.

In my twenties I began to have these same feelings again and the voice returned. I checked myself into a psych ward several times when I thought I might not be able to withstand the voice or the suicidal feelings. I was working with a therapist at the time (for the first time in my life). I think that was what finally helped me to break through to some stability. The voice that I heard has never recurred in my life nor have I ever felt truly suicidal or like I wanted to self harm since that time. I am in my late fifties now and it is a mystery to me how this could have been so extreme in my life and then simply gone. That is a bit unusual.

When my son died last year I wanted to die but I cannot say that I was truly suicidal. I will say that I remembered feeling like I could simply curl into the fetal position and let life happen somewhere far above my head while I was hospitalized and that feeling held a lot of appeal to me in the early months of grief. One of the things that seems to come with age, at least in my experience, is that one is no longer as afraid of negative emotions. This has made a huge difference in how I handle life. I still feel sad, angry, fearful, despairing and confused but I am rarely overwhelmed by those emotions for very long.

I hate the over use of drugs in psych wards but I do think that such a place can be a respite and a life-saver at times.

Missykins, have you gotten help since you have been released? What is your support like now? I hope that you can find a place to feel safe enough emotionally to work on the deep issues that must be troubling you.

 

[Alex000]

Just released from a psych ward today (this being my seventh hospitalization), I can say that my experiences have been extremely varied. The past two hospitalizations were rather positive, and I felt quite secure, quite safe, and, yes, had some desire to stay despite my relief of being discharged. Other hospitalizations have not been so good, and there were two horrible experiences with doctors who did not care about their patients, and had insufficient knowledge in the field of medicine. The other three times were fairly neutral, I suppose, although my first time was rather jarring as it was something completely foreign to what I had ever known.

What I have learned in the hospitals I have been in is that most doctors are not good at what they do, and very often are not good people. However, the psychiatrist I have most recently dealt with is very caring, I now see, and pays heed to what I say and how I want to direct my course of therapy, including drug therapy. The other staff, in my most recent experiences, have been very caring, on the whole, and very understanding. The other patients are very easy to bond with, and I have most of the times I have been hospitalized, including a sexual relationship at one of my stays. Whatever the issues of the other patients, most of them are good people, even those with a history of violent and abusive, even homicidal, intentions and behaviors. They are, on the whole, very easy to get along with. I have gotten along with some patients so different from me, and yet there is the common bond of confinement and thus forced proximity, and so good relationships form, first out of necessity, and then grow because they are, in fact, good. Patients give other patients advice, good advice, because they understand the system subjectively, and because they often share similar types of mental disturbance.

As I said some hospitalizations were most horrible, but the hospitals themselves had about them an unfavorable, almost deathly, feel. Each hospital has its own feel, and its own ebb and flow, its own procedures and regulations. Each hospital has its own different buildings, different architecture. Each hospital has different doctors, nurses, beahvioral health technicians. And, because they vary so much, the experience is bound to vary. Some hospitals are infinitely more insufferable than others. I have been as low as could be in my history of hospitalizations, and at other times as happy as could be. They are really all quite different.

 

[ethnobot781]

Through a glass, darkly...

i was recently hospitalized in a psychiatric hospital after an overdose of pills.

Quite some time ago I was hospitalized in a psychiatric hospital after an overdose of pills.

Some things I remember, some things I don't. My friends tell me that I shouldn't try to remember what happened, but I disagree.

I think I remember most of it but the timeline of the events is pretty hazy. I figure I remember what I need to but I don't mind when new/old memories surface.

It wasn't my choice to go to the psych ward. My father found me incoherent after taking a handful of sleeping pills. If one is good, then surely twenty is better, right? I took an entire bottle of Seroquel 300's and a handful of gabapentin 600 mgs, too. They also tried to tell me that I took enough Suboxone (which I recently began to take again--he was concerned that I would start using opiates again) such that I only had enough left for eleven days. Well, that wasn't true because when I got home I had two full, unopened boxes left. I don't remember much of it, except trying to pull out my urinary catheter and being bitched at by the nurse. I thought I was having a nightmare and wanted to leave but security was at the end of my bed. I tried to get up and leave at least three times. My brother and father said to me "I hope you've learned your lesson."

It was my choice to go after waking up in that barren general ward with tubes and wires everywhere and thinking "oh, **** I'm still alive!" That has to rank as one of the all-time worst feelings I've ever experienced. I was also scared all to hell and gone. I was absolutely terrified and jumping at my own shadow. I became a voluntary psych patient 'cause I didn't know what else to do.

My mother found me unconscious after I took a whole pack of olanzapine, 2/3 of a pack of diazepam and a couple strips of propanolol, washed down with about half a bottle of vodka for good measure. I did pull out all the tubes and wires and wandered off around the general hospital 'cause no-one expected me to be awake anything like so soon. My body always fights sedation like crazy whether I want it to or not 8) I don't remember much of my perambulations but from the strobe-like flashes I do remember I ambled like a string-cut marionette in to an older part of the hospital which was mainly admin and suchlike. I unsuccessfully rambled round this quiet area looking for an exit until, as a porridgy grey dawn light began to seep through the windows, I was finally found by a very surprised but kindly junior doctor who attempted to ask me stuff but when I tried to answer my voice had turned in to an unintelligible string of repeat syllables "a-ma-ma-na-na-na-ma-na-duh" He eventually thought to check my wristband and escorted me stumblingly back to the right area of the hospital where much to my chagrin I was roundly scolded by very upset nurses who had grown frantic after my "escape". After that the nurses and security kept me on a ten minute watch which must have driven them bananas all over again. None of my family visited me in the general hospital or called the ward to ask how I was.

I was involuntarily sent to the pysch ward after two lousy days in the ER. I was very resistant the first day or two but I had an excellent psychiatrist who would say "pills don't listen to you, love you, and give you encouragement" and eventually I began to come around. For the most part, I liked my fellow patients and developed close relationships with them. We watched "Titanic" on the VCR and one girl could play the theme song on her flute, only to infuriate one of the mean patients.

After two lousy days in the general hospital I was evaluated by a Crisis Team who treated me fairly kindly and asked if I would consider admitting myself for treatment in the nearest psychiatric hospital. Faced with the alternative of returning to an empty house ten minutes away from my folks' place I agreed and went voluntarily to the psych ward. They may have admitted involuntarily had I refused, I really have no idea. For the first week I was completely withdrawn, too frightened to really engage with treatment. I saw a harassed and semi-competent locum shrink who listened to my mumbling fear-rants and diagnosed me as schizophrenic off-the-cuff. He then sent me back to the ward to the ward to be dosed up, ironically with more olanzapine!

After ten days, when I was calmer but a bit zombified, he finally left and the new consultant psychiatrist arrived. She was a fantastic Canadian lady who wore odd socks because she let her four-year-old daughter pick out her socks. This had me in stitches because the locum had asked me if the odd socks I was wearing on admission were a statement [I didn't even remember putting them on]. She said that it was difficult to overturn an initial diagnosis of schizophrenia by another doctor but when I'd gone a while with no signs of psychosis I should be able to get a second opinion from a good psychiatrist & have it changed. This in fact happened much as she said but it took nearly two years. In the mean time she rearranged my meds to a more sensible mix, gave me day passes to get exercise, started me on talking treatments and was the first person to tell me about the importance of B vitamins for mental health. This set me slowly on the road to recovery.

For the most part, I liked my fellow patients and developed close relationships with them. In fact I'm still friends with some of them now. I would put my Dandy Warhols album on and most of the other patients would sing along and/or dance I still can't listen to "Plan A" without thinking of the meaning it held for our little group.

I had a family meeting with my father and psychiatrist and he said that my mental illness is a character flaw, and I needed a kick in the ass to get moving. He recently found out that he has prostate cancer, and I would never say that to him.

I had a family meeting with my father and the psychiatrist. My father is a religious fundamentalist and reiterated his claim that I was demonically possessed and needed to be exorcised at the first opportunity. I flipped him the bird.It was not a productive session.

I felt safe there. Frankly, I would have stayed longer than fifteen days if I could have but they felt I was ready for discharge.

I felt safe there. I would have stayed longer but when my keyworker found me a new place to live some distance from my folks they felt that I'd progressed enough that they could discharge me there. Eventually, with support and a new start in a new place I felt the shadow lift a little...

Ever felt you'd seen your own story through a warped funhouse mirror?

Also, are my friends right about not trying to learn what got me there?

Not necessarily. They are probably worried that you repressed the memories for a reason & that remembering will be traumatic enough to impede your progress toward becoming everything you can be, or even set you back a ways. If you really want to remember though you will.

I think you're lucky to have a crowd that cares enough about you to worry about it. I f it feels right talk to them some more. Also if you do really want to remember and you think the memories you're looking for may be traumatic I highly recommend looking for them with a qualified therapist in a safe environment. I know this can be expensive but what price your sanity?

Peace ,

ethnobot

 

[Eyes On the Roll]

I've been sent to a psych ward a few times, due to being diagnosed with aspd. I was thought to be bipolar at first, until a brilliant psychiatrist saw that I was acting like a victim to hide my true nature. It was horrible in there, I found it very hard to keep my temper inside, and had many outbursts. As time went by, I learned how to act and how to beat the system. I never want to go back. But I messed up, and now I have a label on my head that will forever dictate my life. I'll never go back again though, I figured out how to act. I tend to avoid doctors now, since it is inevitable that they will not trust me, and judge me as dangerous. Now that I've been diagnosed, my father has cut off all connection with me, and has distanced himself. It's pretty shitty that people think I can't be treated, and they give up. Whatever, I could care less.

 

[Missykins]

Thanks to all to those who replied.

Fortunately, I already had a doctor and therapist on the outside. I've changed therapists, however, to one who specializes in bereavement. I've also been to groups for former patients and one for bereavement. I've kept the same psychiatrist whom I spoke with several times while I was in the hospital.

Making the adjustment back out in the world outside is hard. There's a big family function this weekend that I just don't feel ready to attend just yet. Am I wrong not to?

 

[Beachcat]

No, you are not wrong. Ease back as you are able, definitely do not push yourself into social situations too soon, that is a one way ticket to panic attack city. In my case, I landed in the psych ward my sophomore year at college....I had just begun taking paxil for bipolar 2, and I knew nothing about drugs at that time. So, me and my friends tripped acid, and due to the ssri meds, my trip never stopped. I began to think folks were out to get me, my reality was greatly skewed and then bam! Woke up in the psych ward, relatively clear headed and horrified at all that transpired.

I got out after only a week or so after committing to doing two more weeks of outpatient...I was desperate to get out, I felt I did not belong in there...but after I left, I had a LoNG road ahead of depression, self doubt and crippling panic attacks. I remember being at the grocery store and having to run out, leaving my full cart in the aisle, and go home to hide under the bar in my kitchen for hours, just rocking back and forth, trying to hold the panic at bay.

Anyway, Missy, I have read a lot of your posts on here and sometimes I feel like you are a little harsh with folks, but then I think you are just being realistic. You don't seem to give folks a lot of grace sometimes. I hope this experience will let you give yourself a little grace.

You are an intelligent, accomplished woman, and you deserve the best. I don't know the story, but it seems like you may have suffered a loss lately. Take care of yourself. Don't get pushed into social or professional situations that you aren't ready for. Treat yourself delicately and with great care. I think it is ok to face what got you to where you are...honesty is important... If you don't know the whole story then you can never really heal fully. Good luck.

 

[herbavore]

I wish I had seen this sooner Missy. Did the family function already occur? I was going to encourage you not to go unless you feel ready. How are you feeling in general? Do you feel yourself getting more clarity?

 

[Condumbpope]

I was on a whole lot of phenazepam, so it wasn't that bad... that might have got me there though. Wait what was I saying?

 

[Foreigner]

I've never been admitted before, but I've come close.

To the people who have been admitted, have you experienced any consequences later on? I mean, does the government flag you? Does it affect anything legal or money related in your life?

One of the main reasons I have never admitted myself when I felt I needed to was because I was more scared of what it could mean for my personal record, or something like that. With all the terrorism mania in North America these days, I don't want the fact that I'm mentally ill to be databased and used against me.

 

[Missykins]

Beachcat, I would say probably fifteen percent of the patient population was comprised of cases like yours: people on meds for depression that used a psychedelic or a research chemical and never came down. They did NOT look like they were having a good time! They often had to be restrained for haldol injections, After 2-3 days, they were back to normal.

I would agree with you otherwise, I think it's my training to be frank. I think if you heard my delivery in person you probably wouldn't think that I'm really that harsh. Sometimes I think it's important to offer an alternative view, especially wrt NA and AA. But your point is well taken.

Herbavore: Oh no, the family function doesn't occur until this weekend, 5/19. My father will also be there with his new girlfriend, whom he has been seeing since January (my mother died last August). They are getting serious. It's three-plus hours away, and I would have no way to escape if it gets stressful for me.

 

[Missykins]

I've never been admitted before, but I've come close.

To the people who have been admitted, have you experienced any consequences later on? I mean, does the government flag you? Does it affect anything legal or money related in your life?

One of the main reasons I have never admitted myself when I felt I needed to was because I was more scared of what it could mean for my personal record, or something like that. With all the terrorism mania in North America these days, I don't want the fact that I'm mentally ill to be databased and used against me.

I wouldn't think so. My doctor and the nurses wouldn't even speak to my father until I allowed them to do so. Boy, did that make him mad!

 

[Missykins]

Also, I went to rehab in 2006 for 90 days so you think I would have been prepped for this. There, we could go outside, swim, had great food, etc. But here I also had a great doctor that I met every day for a doctor that I met with every day that seemed more like a therapist to me was a bonus. Most patients had crappy psychs they saw for ten minutes so I hit the lottery.

 

[captaincaveman]

Missykins, aren't you a doctor? If your sectioned in the UK I think you're struck off the register. I hope it's different in the States. I once checked myself into a mental hospital as an 'informa' meaning I coud eave when I wanted. I was feeling suicidal after a prolonged drinking session that resulted in me losing my job as European editor of a major publication. Wasn't in a good place. However, the experience was positive. Found out a lot about mental illness (and felt a bit guilty as mine was self inflicted). Anyway hope you feel better soon

 

[Eyes On the Roll]

Foreigner: Yes, being diagnosed as aspd while being in psych hospitals has really fucked with my life.

 

[Missykins]

Missykins, aren't you a doctor? If your sectioned in the UK I think you're struck off the register. I hope it's different in the States. I once checked myself into a mental hospital as an 'informa' meaning I coud eave when I wanted. I was feeling suicidal after a prolonged drinking session that resulted in me losing my job as European editor of a major publication. Wasn't in a good place. However, the experience was positive. Found out a lot about mental illness (and felt a bit guilty as mine was self inflicted). Anyway hope you feel better soon

Thank you very much. I didn't go in through via my own volition. I was involuntarily admitted. It was the right thing and all my coworkers have been supportive.

 

[captaincaveman]

Thank you very much. I didn't go in through via my own volition. I was involuntarily admitted. It was the right thing and all my coworkers have been supportive.

Well that's good to hear. There is still a huge stigma attached to mental illness despite the fact that it is the most common complaint GPs hear in the UK (depression).

 

[Beachcat]

Missy....I am sure you are right, it is hard to hear "tone" across the Internet. Anyway, I know I do not know you, but I might hazard a guess from reading your posts that we may be a little similar. I have had great success in my life academically and professionally. The forays that I have had into mental health issues, and now chronic pain issues are the one area of my life where I feel a great sense of guilt. When I miss work or commitments due to depression or pain issues,it makes me feel so unsure of myself, even though I am very sure of myself in general. I am good at what I do, maybe even great. But when i miss, I feel like I am letting people down. I spend a lot of time "making it up" to people to compensate for my shortcomings....that is what I meant by giving yourself some grace....sometimes I wish that would be less hard on myself. I cut everyone around me a lot of slack,but not myself. I can see that maybe you might do this too? Anyway, not sure even of the point of this but to say be nice to yourself for a little while. You deserve it!