symphony
surving hour-by-hour
- Mar 12, 2022
- 779
Ahahaha fuck me, making this post impulsively late at night because I'm having a fucking panic attack thinking about it.
I've been hospitalized 8 times now. Some were involuntary, others were technically voluntary where I agreed to go only because I was basically forced to. None were a good experience although some were far, far worse than others. I've also been held in a crisis center (not a hospital) twice. Here are some of the worst stories from those stays. I expect the post will be long and I'm sorry, but I'm having a really hard time with this right now and if anyone does read this, then thank you.
The one that has the most power over me now was my most recent hospitalization. I was in outpatient group therapy where I had previously confessed to thinking seriously about ways to kill myself but I truthfully made it clear that I had no intent to do so anytime soon. I had been deteriorating, though, and had a recent history of breaking down during group. One day I had one such breakdown and moved from my chair to hide under a table where I felt somewhat safer. Group ended early and everyone left but I planned to stay there until the scheduled end of group. I was huddled up with my hands over my face. A counselor I knew and trusted came to sit with me. She told me she was there and just sat nearby, not asking anything from me, and her presence was a great comfort. Not long later the head counselor came by to tell me I was going to a hospital and a transport team was here to take me and I started to panic as to this point I had had many bad experiences in hospitals and vowed never to go back. The head counselor read me my legal rights and by now I was crying and trying to make myself even smaller. I had my eyes squeezed shut and my arms over my face so I never got a look at anyone or even how many people were there. The transport team started talking to me, asking me to cooperate and voluntarily get on the gurney but I was freaking the fuck out and not responding. I remember someone trying to pull one of my arms away from my face and I resisted, pulling it back. So they realized I wasn't gonna cooperate. Soon, my entire body was being lifted into the air, away from my safe space under the desk. By this point I'm screaming and sobbing. I was put in 4-point restraints (again, something I have bad memories of...). They asked me if I wanted to say bye to my mom who was waiting in the lobby and I shook my head, but as I was wheeled out, she was able to touch my arm without my consent anyways.
The hospital stay that followed wasn't much better. I got put in the high-acuity ward. But despite my high suicidality and urges to self-harm, I was not on a one-to-one status and no one was watching me. I woke up alone in a bedroom and started banging my head against the wall. This went on for a while, until staff came in for the regular check. Their solution? They forced me out into the dayroom, but I refused to move, so they got a team to drag me and my mattress out to a larger common room where I was more visible. I kept a sheet covering my face the entire time. Eventually, while in the dayroom, I started banging my head again. This went on for a while again, until someone eventually came over to drag my body back onto my mattress or place a pillow under my head. Then I'd wait a bit, continue self-harming, rinse and repeat. I even tried to break my nose and considered trying to gouge my eyes out. I could have seriously hurt myself but they did not give a fuck. At one point, another patient got up in my face and started screaming at me. I don't remember doing anything while there except self-harming and sleeping. Seriously. I am certain I never left my mattress except to use the bathroom and I never attended groups or anything. I refused all food and water, in part because I hoped it would kill me. Eventually I got so weak I was transferred to the ER. At least it got me out of that fucking hospital.
I mentioned earlier I've had other experiences being restrained. I spent a month and a half at one hospital once. It was a rich hospital with a lot of resources and I was on near-constant one-to-one supervision. After about a month, I was taken off of one-to-one and I seized the opportunity. Every patient had their own bedroom and adjacent bathroom. I took a long-sleeve shirt and tied the arms together to make a crude noose... which is how I learned the bathroom doors have pressure sensors at the top. Just as suddenly, staff were surrounding me. I remember people being angry because I had just been taken off status that day because I had seemed to be doing better. But I was desperate and didn't want to fail in my attempt. I reached for my plastic toothbrush, broke it in half, and tried to slit my wrists. I actually did draw blood. And that's what got me restrained. I remember being fucking terrified as I was dragged off to some back room, forced onto a mat, wrists and ankles tied down. I was chemically sedated too. I don't remember in general how long I spent in the restraint room and the days the follow were a blur. I made regular attempts to self-harm, and my journal suggests that as a result I was restrained most days for around a week. I remember restraint started to be used as a threat, as in "you know what's gonna happen if you do that". I wasn't allowed to use a pen, pencil, or toothbrush and items as innocuous as stress toys were removed from common areas.
The crisis center deserves mention here too. It's basically a holding cell. A giant room with at least 3 dozen mats on the floor and a handful of TVs. You stay on your mat (or a cheap reclining chair if you're lucky) 24/7 except to piss or maaaaaaaaaybe see a psychiatrist once for 5 minutes (and the psychiatrists are a whole new level of dismissive). Even meals are brought right to you. Because the people there are so unstable, someone starts screaming or gets violent at least once every few hours during the day. Sometimes you'll get to see staff swarm someone and throw them to the floor. Now, a lot of my trauma (which caused PTSD) involves people having violent, loud, emotional outbursts, so eventually I had a panic attack on my mat - which went completely ignored by staff.
And an honorable mention for the hospital that gave me food poisoning then gaslit me about it even while I was up at 3 am vomiting 10 times in a row.
Sorry for the goddamn essay, but if you made it this far, again, thank you. I just felt the need to share and even just typing this out helped relieve some of this. Feel free to respond with feedback or share your own stories.
I've been hospitalized 8 times now. Some were involuntary, others were technically voluntary where I agreed to go only because I was basically forced to. None were a good experience although some were far, far worse than others. I've also been held in a crisis center (not a hospital) twice. Here are some of the worst stories from those stays. I expect the post will be long and I'm sorry, but I'm having a really hard time with this right now and if anyone does read this, then thank you.
The one that has the most power over me now was my most recent hospitalization. I was in outpatient group therapy where I had previously confessed to thinking seriously about ways to kill myself but I truthfully made it clear that I had no intent to do so anytime soon. I had been deteriorating, though, and had a recent history of breaking down during group. One day I had one such breakdown and moved from my chair to hide under a table where I felt somewhat safer. Group ended early and everyone left but I planned to stay there until the scheduled end of group. I was huddled up with my hands over my face. A counselor I knew and trusted came to sit with me. She told me she was there and just sat nearby, not asking anything from me, and her presence was a great comfort. Not long later the head counselor came by to tell me I was going to a hospital and a transport team was here to take me and I started to panic as to this point I had had many bad experiences in hospitals and vowed never to go back. The head counselor read me my legal rights and by now I was crying and trying to make myself even smaller. I had my eyes squeezed shut and my arms over my face so I never got a look at anyone or even how many people were there. The transport team started talking to me, asking me to cooperate and voluntarily get on the gurney but I was freaking the fuck out and not responding. I remember someone trying to pull one of my arms away from my face and I resisted, pulling it back. So they realized I wasn't gonna cooperate. Soon, my entire body was being lifted into the air, away from my safe space under the desk. By this point I'm screaming and sobbing. I was put in 4-point restraints (again, something I have bad memories of...). They asked me if I wanted to say bye to my mom who was waiting in the lobby and I shook my head, but as I was wheeled out, she was able to touch my arm without my consent anyways.
The hospital stay that followed wasn't much better. I got put in the high-acuity ward. But despite my high suicidality and urges to self-harm, I was not on a one-to-one status and no one was watching me. I woke up alone in a bedroom and started banging my head against the wall. This went on for a while, until staff came in for the regular check. Their solution? They forced me out into the dayroom, but I refused to move, so they got a team to drag me and my mattress out to a larger common room where I was more visible. I kept a sheet covering my face the entire time. Eventually, while in the dayroom, I started banging my head again. This went on for a while again, until someone eventually came over to drag my body back onto my mattress or place a pillow under my head. Then I'd wait a bit, continue self-harming, rinse and repeat. I even tried to break my nose and considered trying to gouge my eyes out. I could have seriously hurt myself but they did not give a fuck. At one point, another patient got up in my face and started screaming at me. I don't remember doing anything while there except self-harming and sleeping. Seriously. I am certain I never left my mattress except to use the bathroom and I never attended groups or anything. I refused all food and water, in part because I hoped it would kill me. Eventually I got so weak I was transferred to the ER. At least it got me out of that fucking hospital.
I mentioned earlier I've had other experiences being restrained. I spent a month and a half at one hospital once. It was a rich hospital with a lot of resources and I was on near-constant one-to-one supervision. After about a month, I was taken off of one-to-one and I seized the opportunity. Every patient had their own bedroom and adjacent bathroom. I took a long-sleeve shirt and tied the arms together to make a crude noose... which is how I learned the bathroom doors have pressure sensors at the top. Just as suddenly, staff were surrounding me. I remember people being angry because I had just been taken off status that day because I had seemed to be doing better. But I was desperate and didn't want to fail in my attempt. I reached for my plastic toothbrush, broke it in half, and tried to slit my wrists. I actually did draw blood. And that's what got me restrained. I remember being fucking terrified as I was dragged off to some back room, forced onto a mat, wrists and ankles tied down. I was chemically sedated too. I don't remember in general how long I spent in the restraint room and the days the follow were a blur. I made regular attempts to self-harm, and my journal suggests that as a result I was restrained most days for around a week. I remember restraint started to be used as a threat, as in "you know what's gonna happen if you do that". I wasn't allowed to use a pen, pencil, or toothbrush and items as innocuous as stress toys were removed from common areas.
The crisis center deserves mention here too. It's basically a holding cell. A giant room with at least 3 dozen mats on the floor and a handful of TVs. You stay on your mat (or a cheap reclining chair if you're lucky) 24/7 except to piss or maaaaaaaaaybe see a psychiatrist once for 5 minutes (and the psychiatrists are a whole new level of dismissive). Even meals are brought right to you. Because the people there are so unstable, someone starts screaming or gets violent at least once every few hours during the day. Sometimes you'll get to see staff swarm someone and throw them to the floor. Now, a lot of my trauma (which caused PTSD) involves people having violent, loud, emotional outbursts, so eventually I had a panic attack on my mat - which went completely ignored by staff.
And an honorable mention for the hospital that gave me food poisoning then gaslit me about it even while I was up at 3 am vomiting 10 times in a row.
Sorry for the goddamn essay, but if you made it this far, again, thank you. I just felt the need to share and even just typing this out helped relieve some of this. Feel free to respond with feedback or share your own stories.
