Mental Hospital (1953)

Produced by the Oklahoma State Dept. of Health and University of Oklahoma and intended for an audience of mental health professionals, this film offers a dramatized case study of a patient’s treatment for schizophrenia at Central State Hospital in Norman, Oklahoma: https://www.filmpreservation.org/sponsored-films/screening-room/mental-hospital-1953

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  1. My right ear appreciated this and then I seen a comment of someone saying their left ear enjoyed this. So I put both AirPods in and it turned the right one off and the sound switched to the left ear. That is weird. First time experiencing that before lol

  2. Aside from the shock therapy and god-awful treatments they experimented on them it seems these folks were simply made to conform right back into society. To behave properly and "be normal" so everyone else will be comfortable around them. Todays mental health is not perfect by any means but there is improvement in alot.

  3. *1950's cringefest alert*
    This is one of the most superficial, propagandist videos of this type i've seen
    There's nothing real about it!
    They present the place like a holiday camp when we all know these places operated with skeleton staff, many of whom were abusive and incompetent. Awful things went on in these places.
    This vid needs to be taken with a huge pinch of salt

  4. The Ultimate Madhouse

    — A Letter to Every Pulpit, Every Fake Believer, and Everyone Pretending to Be Asleep

    I’m not crazy. I’ve just finally seen things clearly.

    The madhouse isn’t round.
    It might look like a church, a family, a company, a legal system—or even a smiling circle of friends.

    What are the rules of this madhouse?
    — If you speak the truth, you’re labeled insane.
    — If you talk about judgment and holiness, you’re called “divisive” or “unloving.”
    — If you actually live out your faith and not just preach “God is love,” they call you extreme.

    So yes, I admit it. I’m crazy.
    Crazy enough to still believe in truth.
    Crazy enough to say to God, even after being beaten: “You’re still here. I’m not backing down.”

    You call me a Chinese lady?
    Yes, I am.
    But I’m not the silent, submissive, voiceless shadow you expected.

    I write, I post, I shout—
    not to get your attention,
    but to tear open the curtain of this madhouse and let Heaven see.

    Pastors, are you really preaching?
    You talk about heaven but not the cross.
    You offer grace but never demand repentance.
    You say “God loves you,” but never dare to say,
    “God may reject those who won’t turn back.”

    You’re afraid people will leave.
    Afraid tithes will drop.
    But you’re not afraid God will say:
    “I have left your pulpit.”

    And your congregations?
    They eat communion but bite each other.
    They listen to sermons while daydreaming of money, looks, platforms, and praise.
    Who are the real believers, and who are the fake tag-alongs?
    God knows.

    Today’s church is not godless—
    but too many have pushed God out,
    leaving behind only logos and events.

    And me?
    I don’t care whether you accept me.
    Call me a lunatic, a widow, an irrelevant woman—fine.
    I’ll still stand at the door of this madhouse and shout:

    The Lord is still here.
    He’s not an entertainer.
    He’s not your pocket genie.
    He’s not a blank space in your Sunday program.

    He is fire.
    He is King.
    He is the Judge.
    And He hears the cries of widows
    and remembers the tears of those abandoned in the corners of His church.

    This madhouse can’t lock me in—
    because what I write isn’t madness.
    It’s the thunder of Heaven waiting to be spoken.

    —Viona
    That woman outside the madhouse,
    the one who refuses to shut up

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