I had been in admitted to the hospital before, for being physically sick, so when I was told I must be admitted into the psychiatric hospital I freaked out. This would be one place that would separate me from what I thought was normal, my family and friends, and society in a whole, which would then define who I was, or wasn’t anymore. I would be given barriers, some that I could overcome with the rest falling on the laps of colony ants. So of course I was hesitate, but I had no choice in the matter my mother turned me over to the white jacket people.
Thus my journey began…
First thing that was stripped away were my shoe laces, you see I was suicidal, the voices were in control and I wanted out. Next any and everything that could be used as a weapon in means to harm myself of another, and I didn’t care at that point was taken. My voices were telling me to just do it, give away any possession in order to please them and please them I did, until a while later.
So I thought this would be quick, a day at most but no, three days minimum, but oh was I wrong. I was to be there for 15 days!
I didn’t want to talk to my mother who drove me, and pushed me through the door and pulled me inside the evaluation room. Heck no, was I going to speak to her, she was the enemy at that point, but see she is short in height but tall in mannerisms and discipline.
I didn’t talk to anyone besides the nurse that need my information the first night, even though I just wanted to punch her in the face and throw her head through the gallery window. Now I must state I am not a violent person normally but when you mess with a Hispanic maniac person all bets are off.
My first night was horrible, I couldn’t sleep for two reasons; one I was frightened that someone would come and stab me in my sleep, the second reason was my roommate kept walking back and forth in the room screaming profanities. It was ridiculous that I was placed in such a place. Eventually the next day came and a schedule was presented to me, a play by play of the days activities as they were. The one thing I cared about was getting out, meaning I needed to speak with a psychiatrist, who would prescribe medication and go on about the day. This was to happen everyday and the same time. You see I later learned that they(doctors and nurses) wanted to establish a routine with the patients, which today I appreciate, then not so much.
8am morning meeting
830am-930am psychiatrist meetings
930am-10am medication call
1100am morning activity
1pm-3pm down time
4pm-5pm afternoon activity
6pm-8pm down time
8pm evening closing meeting, medication call, down time
10pm LIGHTS OUT!
Everyday this same routine, with just the activities and food menu changing.
I could go through each day, but really who wants to read that gibberish?
I will say though, looking back on this first appearance in a psych hospital though I may have been scared and mad, the time did help me and towards the end I met some interesting individuals and gained so much knowledge on my disorder and how to maintain medication, therapy and guidance in my life.