The
Psych Ward is a strange place. Neuroscience Psych they call it here, but we all
know where we are, we are all in the nut house. They take your stuff that you
brought with you as soon as you get into the door and give you blue pajama like
clothes to wear until you can get yours back again. You can’t have anything
with strings or ties so shoes , homemade blankets that people like to make,
sweatpants, hoodies, those types of things are all taken away and locked up for
fear of us trying to strangle ourselves or each other, there is plastic around
the sinks and the toilets so you can’t bang your head against the metal, they
even took away my notebook because it had spiral on it and I was not so happy
about that but they managed to get me one I wouldn’t try to kill myself
with. They told me not to be scared when
I got there because to be honest I was terrified, I was by myself in a strange
place with God knows what kind of people. The tech told me it’s not like the
movies but to be honest it was exactly like the movies, not like the horror
kind but definitely like ‘Girl, Interrupted’. We all had different “pods” with
5 rooms and most everyone had a roommate, there was a common room with a TV and
chairs, they brought us food from the cafeteria and we ate around 4 tables in
the common room, and we had groups that were scheduled throughout the day to
work out whatever was wrong by talking and crafts.
When I got there and was checked in, I really
didn’t know what to do with myself, so I did a 500 piece puzzle and I wouldn’t
really talk to anyone. I really didn’t
want to be there, it was completely out of my comfort zone and I wanted to
break down and cry and convince them that I wasn’t crazy and I just want to go
home and watch Netflix and lay in my bed like I usually did, Like I could
bargain to them that if I signed a piece of paper that said I wasn’t going to
kill myself that I could leave but I knew that I had been sick for a long time
and I needed to do what they told me when they admitted me, to get diagnosed
and be put on meds and watched to make sure they would work well for me. Thank
the good lord for my friends bringing me clothes and coming to see me when I
thought I was going to fall apart, no one wants to be there alone.
The first whole day that I was
there I slept until 3:30 in the afternoon. The tech was telling me that it’s
common for everyone to do that the first day they are there, they just want to
sleep. Honestly after being up all night in the ER and not being able to sleep
plus the fact that it’s a scary new experience I understand why everyone just
wants to be asleep. That day though I did meet most of the people that I would
stay attached to through the entire experience. My roommate was Tarra and she
was the nicest person I could have been roomed with and I was extremely
thankful for her, she woke me up for meals and meds that first day when I was
sleeping. She had lost two of her children, sons, her husband was in jail for
beating her and she was a crack addict, on top of her mental disorders, to me
it seemed normal for her to be suicidal as well. Amanda, she was a tiny little
thing, she told me about losing her daughter after nine days on Earth, her
experiences with doing bath salts, being a teen mom and high school dropout,
but she was the most honest, she was there because she was bi-polar and the
cops made her come. Mike was a good looking guy probably in his late thirties
he was high anxiety and bi-polar, he got checked in because he tried to kill
himself on heroin but they shocked him back to life, “talk about waking up
pissed” he told me, it was his second time trying that. Charity was who I spent
the most time with, her boyfriend came every day and brought sweets, they were
both just nice to talk to , she was bi-polar and tried to kill herself by
taking all the pills she had at the time. Greg, I’m pretty sure he was a
schizophrenic because he would talk to himself, you could tell by the hand
motions and the random outburst of laughter, I’m also pretty sure he had a
problem with anger as well. My favorite was Eleanor though, she had all timers
and her favorite word was ‘Motherfuckers’ and then she would burst out into
Gospel music.
I guess the thing that shocked me
the most was the fact that most everyone was pretty normal and they just had a
rough time in life like me, I guess I expected to see more of the weird
disorders and freak outs everywhere but that wasn’t the case. I felt saner than I ever had in my life,
that’s true but I also felt like I found people that truly understood who I
was. I love my friends more than life but I feel like I come from a different
planet sometimes but these people knew the loss, the drug use, and the
disorders that I struggled with. Even in group that day I learned to see the
signs when my disorder is going out of control and that I need to seek help
because it sounds weird but I never had looked into what was wrong with my body
and mind to know when I was sick and it helped me to even understand why I felt
these things as a kid.
The last full day that I was there
I got to sit down and be evaluated by a psychology grad student, three long
hours of her asking me questions and going through the DSM to decide which
diagnosis was the best for me. I had to tell her my life story and describe why
and how I think the way that I do, things I had never told anyone before. It’s
long and hard and some things require a lot of detail just so you don’t get
misdiagnosed but after the time I spend with her I got it all. I came in for
Depression and Bulimia but she also got Body Dismorphic Disorder (because even
though I throw up my food, I don’t eat enough to be a full bulimic), Borderline
Personality Disorder, and PTSD. Although it is hard to be sat down and told
that you have all these disorders it’s kind of nice knowing what was going on
with me all these years. Simply saying and thinking you are ‘Crazy’ just isn’t
a thing, they are disorders, they are real and once you know they are there and
have been there for years it really makes sense. Also, for years I thought I
could have been bi-polar but after interacting with a bi-polar person going
through a manic episode, I know that I can say with certainty that that isn’t
me.
It’s interesting, I’ll tell you
that much. In the morning you wake up and everyone lines up for food and the
nurses are running around trying to give everyone their meds with these huge
carts in such a small area, you aren’t allowed to watch TV during the day
because of groups so that’s how they get you to go because why not there is
nothing else to do, you sit and talk to the people going in and coming out and
it’s like jail because you ask ‘What are you in for?, How long are you in for?,
How Long have you been here’, and if you are lucky you can call home for
fifteen minutes. That’s all it is all day long, groups talking, food, and meds,
that’s how you get to know everyone so well so fast.
Most of all the nurses that I
talked to were nice but none as much as Sheri. She sat me down in a room they
use for private conferences with your doctors, and we just talked about her
life, about my life and what was going on with me. If you are wondering I will
tell you too, I was suicidal and depressed. I didn’t want to go on anymore, so
many friends and family are on the other side and I want to be with them so bad
and when things like not knowing what I want to do with my life, convinced I
will never truly fall in love, things like that along with the depression not
being able to rationalize it, it gets rough but I went in because I knew it
wasn’t the answer, suicide. But, Sheri
helped me understand my disorders and why it is that I might have them and just
listened to me and I guess I need that every once in a while.
The last day when you know you are
going home in an hour or so is scary and riveting. All my friends went home on
Thursday like I did, I was the last so I had to hug everyone goodbye. It’s
scary though too because you are going to be back in the real world and you
don’t know what’s going to happen to your new found friends or yourself. I will
never see them again but I will always hold them in my heart and hope that they
are ok. There is so much I wish I could tell you and write about this
experience and what it meant to me but for now, this is all I have. I can’t say
that I will never be back there or in a place like there and I know I can never
say that I won’t feel like that again because I know I will. I guess my reason
for writing this blog is for everyone that struggles with a disorder and feels
too scared to go and get help, just know that it is not that bad and for those
that have gone through this experience before, you know that you are not alone.
If you feel like you would like to share your experience
with me or have something you would like me to talk about in the blog email me
at: a_song4hope1123@yahoo.com
God Bless
- Adriene
Song
