Ok here’s the truth, it honestly depends on the facility because some places will treat you good and other ones will put you through torture, for example when I was in one I was scared and they didn’t let me cry and it was torture
Usually it's the one that seems the craziest that end up being the ones that are just misunderstood, while the ones who look like a normal person are the ones that will eat you when you least expect it.
My stay was more like the prior. We were basically inmates but not given a release date. There was no one on one therapy. You had to take the prescribed meds or they would throw you to the ground and inject you with haldol. My stuff and many peoples stuff was stolen. Staff mocked me for starting my period and didnt let me have anything for it. They said the strings on the tampons were "a danger". The whole thing was an insurance payout for the hospital.
Having been in a psych ward when I was a young girl I can say that this isn't at all what i experienced. They only made sure i showered when my mom called them and explained i had x, y z going on. Previous to that i was put through a metal detector by a mature male… I can say I wanted to d1e more when i was in the ward than when i was out.
When I was a boy I used to get put in the mental ward a lot. My dad was abusive, so I'd always end up in fights at school. His response was having me thrown in there and heavily medicated on meds I didnt need, so many meds that the majority of my childhood is hazy.
All those therapists that confirmed I was being abused at home would give me medication, then send me back to him. But the meds only worked for a couple weeks before I'd start having fits of anger to the point people thought I had psychosis or some sort of disorder.
Having always been told I needed meds, I believed it until one day I was being locked in pretty much the mental ward equivalent of solitary (cant remember what they called it). The doctor was trying to make ne take a certain pill and I recognized the name as one of the ones I had taken a few years prior and was taken off of because it didn't work. I told the doctor that.
One thing you learn in an abusive household is how to read people. It helps avoid a lot of beatings when you can read someone's face like an open book. Thus doctor grinned at me with the shittiest grin and told me to trust him because he was a doctor.
It was at that moment i knew he was full of shit, and i told him I wasnt going to take the pill. He kept saying he was a doctor, then had the nurses retrain me in painful positions until i took the pill.
A month or so later they sent me back to my father and lo and behold, yiu woukdnt believe it… The pill didnt work.
Ended up being thrown out after my father whooped my ass and chose his girlfriend over his own kid after she had joined the abuse, was homeless for a bit until my aunt found me.
She took me to her home, let me have the first shower I had in weeks (was bathing without soap in a polluted river before that), then called my dad to ask why she saw me sleeping in a park in the more dangerous part of the city.
He told her to throw me out of her house because I was dangerous and psychotic. My father always told me no one woukd take me in if he threw me out, so I was startled she was even trying to offer me a place to stay.
I ended up in the hospital waiting room while my aunt fought with my dad trying to get me to go home with her, he kept saying he was going to get my drug addicted abusive and absent mother to pick me up. Honestly thought it was going to come to blows.
My aunt didnt leave the hospital for two days straight. She didnt go home to her family, she called my uncle and told him what was going on and he supported it. Apparently my family suspected something had been happening at home for years and my uncle had talked on occasion about taking me in.
For two days my aunt fought until my dad finally gave up and told her it wasnt his fault if I attacked one of my cousins. I'll never forget the day when I felt like my life had finally ended – I knew with the way I was, addicted to meds, violent and angry, I'd either be homeless and addicted to drugs, in prison, or lying dead somewhere. When I thought it was over my aunt came into the room I was locked in and asked me how i was doing. She offered to take me home so she and my uncle could give me a better life.
Couldnt tell you the last time I cried like that. My dad gave my aunt all eleven of the pills I had to take daily, some of them multiple times a day, and told her to make sure i took them. Later that day she took me outside where my uncle had started a bonfire and she threw them into the flames, said she wanted to see who I really was.
For the first year and a half, I was a piece of shit. I was still violent because it was all I knew. I'd destroy property, seek revenge, beat up other kids at school if I didnt like the way they looked at me. Stealing was as batural as breathing, and I had even learned how to pick pockets.
She never sent me to the mental ward. She never called the police. She never hit me, my uncle never punched me. They'd try to talk to me instead, and I remember being so angry at them for it. I didnt understand why they wanted to know what I was thinking, and I was jealous they never hit my cousins and how my cousins had friends.
I just didnt understand what kindness was, having never gotten it from my father. To me, kindness was not being floored as hard, or getting away with not being fed a meal or two and grounded for months. I was used to being blamed for things I didnt do, i was used to an alcoholic screaming at me in the middle if the night before usually beating me senseless.
Eventually I started to reflect on it, and I started ti realize the problem wasnt them. It was me. I was letting the past control me. So I asked my aunt if she could take me to a therapist that wasnt in the hospital that I had grown to hate. Therapy was hard. I wasnt used to talking, and I had to have my aunt there to actually make any progress the first few sessions.
When I finally talked to my therapist about everything, she asked if she could tell my aunt, which I agreed because… Well, i felt like shit reliving all of that. Later that night my aunt was crying and said she wished she and my uncle had taken me in sooner.
Seeing how much they cared about me, even after I saw myself as a lost cause, changed something in me. I started trying to be friendlier. Lots of kids at school still stayed away, and I dont blame them. I bullied a lot of them, even ended up hospitalizing one of them after I pushed him to a su*cide attempt. That kid is still alive and has a family now, and we ended on good terms, but decided it was best ti go our separate ways after all of that.
In a year and a half i was almost unrecognizable from how I had spent the first 15 years of my life. I was friendlier, I stopped seeking revenge for things. I even helped my uncle with his farm. I made good friends for my last year and a half of high school, and even they said I was a bit of an oddball, but someone they liked having around because of how cheerful I generally was. I stopped assaukting ither kids and even started preferring to talk things through assertively. I was able to discuss what I wanted without resorting to throwing punches. I learned how to leave things in the past and give second chances.
I owe all of that to my aunt and uncle. Even though I really put them through the wringer, they never gave up on me like so many others did. They changed my life for the better.
I stopped talking to my dad for a long while too, until I found out he had another kid. So I started watching, intent on taking him to court if he started pulling the same stunts on my baby brother.
But I saw something different. He was strict, but he wasnt abusive. Apparently seeing how I changed sparked something in him too, and he was trying to change. He mever asked for second chances or anything like that, and I only found out later that throughout my whoke childhood he was suffering intense PTSD from his tike in combat when he was in the military. He had only recently started working to recover from it.
It took a while, but one year after I moved out of my aunt's place, I cane home for christmas and decided to test the waters a bit and asked if i could crash at his place for the week i was there.
Living that week under his roof again, I saw a huge difference. He still yelled and he still gave spankings, but he wouldnt full on punch my stepsister or my brother, who was three at the time. As i said, strict, but not abusive.
So I did some reflecting again. And by that i mean I gathered some food and disappeared into the woods for a couple days to be alone with my thoughts. What my aunt and uncle taught me about second chances, i wondered if I could give my dad. I only get one dad after all, and if he was really changing for the better, then why hold a grudge? Yeah, i still sometimes stay awake at night because of it. But in the end, if hes changed then why did I want to treat him like he was still abusive?
So I gave him a second chance. I talk to him pretty regularly even though i live overseas now. I spend the holidays at his place too. He's like a father. So now I can say for real: i love my dad. And for my aunt and uncle, I owe them everything. They taught me so much.
Sorry for the rambling. This started off as my distrust for meds and doctors, and I ended up off track. Guess I just needed to get it off my chest.
Keep getting back up, bros. Dont let life keep you down.
Them pharmacists will straight hook you up after some blood work at the raise wondow. "So imma gonna need some Ativan for tremors, you say i need folic acid, vit b, vit d, kolonopin. Im also gonna need a nicotine gummie and a patch, and an ensure because i cant eat that food. Also i have a headache sobif you have some fentanyl hook me up. But only ifbitllb outta my system by the time they might release me."
The psych hospital I was FORCED to go to was in Indianapolis & was straight out of “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest”. I was sexually harassed, called a “psycho” by a staff member, & lied to about my medications amongst many, MANY other despicable acts by other patients and STAFF 🤬😩 No "therapy” existed AT ALL 😢
The first part is what the ER is like. Cops bring in psych patients and the patients are aggressive and will often try to assault the medical staff or run out of the hospital. Once a psych facility finally accepts the patient and gets them on meds do they finally clam down. I work in the ER and in a psych hospital talking care of psych patients so I see both parts
I was an outpatient at one and we went to use the gym but we needed to check in at security and wait for them to beep us in. At the entrance there was a pile of shit at the door
The fact someone is sitting down and talking to someone and cari g is already unrealistic, soent 2 months in a ward with no interaction and then i got ejected without warning
From experience It’s both damm some workers treaded me like a criminal when really I have never hurt anyone I just have dreppression and others treat you like there own kids (very well)
Honestly, it’s a pretty even split between those two scenarios, but it depends a lot on the individual patients you’re working with.
Ideally, if they show up acting anything like the patient in that first scenario, you want to find the unique formula for their treatment (including the right combo of meds in some cases), that will get them to where they’re like the patient in the second scenario.
What sucks is that what works for one patient doesn’t necessarily work for another, so many times, you’re all but starting off from scratch each time trying to figure out how to crack each patient’s code.
When I was inpatient as a minor, it wasn’t easy. I have a bit of a dark sense of humour with sarcasm so I had to literally stop myself before saying something rude or offensive. The nurses were really nice and understanding, but some just had like a sort of way of speaking that seemed like they were prepared for me to go phsyco. They were still helpful and amazing, don’t get me wrong but there was just this small aftertaste when talking to them. One nurse played uno with me and really talked to me like a friend. Shout out to him.
when i went most of the nurses treated us like a "cool teacher" would if that makes sense. but some of them will act like youre a wild animal and i literally got talked to like a dog by one nurse
honestly, this is probably one psych ward, in most, the patients are literally worse after because of the horrible quality of life in there, in my country, the patients are literally kept in cells, concrete floors and walls with metal grid doors. horrible bathrooms, the whole place smells terrible, and they don't even get good cloths, not even scrubs. our psych wards are also extremely gender biased, while the men typically leave after a month or a year at most, which may seem like a lot, the women are considered mad and left there for 20-30 years. it's truly sad to see this happen.
For real though!!! I had so much stress on the outside that it was a vacation I needed and I hadn’t smiled or felt happy in years until I got committed!!! People think I’m crazy when I say it was the best time ever! I was happy for the first time since I was a teenager! Until now I’m fixing to be married with a son!
Wed play scrabble. Practice cooking Watch videos. Group therapy. A few patients would get upset because of family crisis In 40 years ive only known of two dangerous patients
50 Comments
They is NOT discussing socks in the psych ward 😭
As a person who has been in the psych ward I can admit this is true but there are fights
Honestly i want to be there its better than life is already
It’s what people think it is. Its worse.
Ok here’s the truth, it honestly depends on the facility because some places will treat you good and other ones will put you through torture, for example when I was in one I was scared and they didn’t let me cry and it was torture
I would say the first clip is morw accurate of how they treat you
It kinda is tho
I don't think anyone thinks Psych Wards are kitchens…
So if I come out to my brother that I'm a therian I get sent to one of these
I still wouldn’t go
Usually it's the one that seems the craziest that end up being the ones that are just misunderstood, while the ones who look like a normal person are the ones that will eat you when you least expect it.
Nothing like a psych ward in out last few years there not like this 😂😂😂
My stay was more like the prior. We were basically inmates but not given a release date. There was no one on one therapy. You had to take the prescribed meds or they would throw you to the ground and inject you with haldol. My stuff and many peoples stuff was stolen. Staff mocked me for starting my period and didnt let me have anything for it. They said the strings on the tampons were "a danger". The whole thing was an insurance payout for the hospital.
looks like porn q
Having been in a psych ward when I was a young girl I can say that this isn't at all what i experienced. They only made sure i showered when my mom called them and explained i had x, y z going on. Previous to that i was put through a metal detector by a mature male… I can say I wanted to d1e more when i was in the ward than when i was out.
Ok
For many people the first is actually accurate. Especially for people who aren't white
When I was a boy I used to get put in the mental ward a lot. My dad was abusive, so I'd always end up in fights at school. His response was having me thrown in there and heavily medicated on meds I didnt need, so many meds that the majority of my childhood is hazy.
All those therapists that confirmed I was being abused at home would give me medication, then send me back to him. But the meds only worked for a couple weeks before I'd start having fits of anger to the point people thought I had psychosis or some sort of disorder.
Having always been told I needed meds, I believed it until one day I was being locked in pretty much the mental ward equivalent of solitary (cant remember what they called it). The doctor was trying to make ne take a certain pill and I recognized the name as one of the ones I had taken a few years prior and was taken off of because it didn't work. I told the doctor that.
One thing you learn in an abusive household is how to read people. It helps avoid a lot of beatings when you can read someone's face like an open book. Thus doctor grinned at me with the shittiest grin and told me to trust him because he was a doctor.
It was at that moment i knew he was full of shit, and i told him I wasnt going to take the pill. He kept saying he was a doctor, then had the nurses retrain me in painful positions until i took the pill.
A month or so later they sent me back to my father and lo and behold, yiu woukdnt believe it… The pill didnt work.
Ended up being thrown out after my father whooped my ass and chose his girlfriend over his own kid after she had joined the abuse, was homeless for a bit until my aunt found me.
She took me to her home, let me have the first shower I had in weeks (was bathing without soap in a polluted river before that), then called my dad to ask why she saw me sleeping in a park in the more dangerous part of the city.
He told her to throw me out of her house because I was dangerous and psychotic. My father always told me no one woukd take me in if he threw me out, so I was startled she was even trying to offer me a place to stay.
I ended up in the hospital waiting room while my aunt fought with my dad trying to get me to go home with her, he kept saying he was going to get my drug addicted abusive and absent mother to pick me up. Honestly thought it was going to come to blows.
My aunt didnt leave the hospital for two days straight. She didnt go home to her family, she called my uncle and told him what was going on and he supported it. Apparently my family suspected something had been happening at home for years and my uncle had talked on occasion about taking me in.
For two days my aunt fought until my dad finally gave up and told her it wasnt his fault if I attacked one of my cousins. I'll never forget the day when I felt like my life had finally ended – I knew with the way I was, addicted to meds, violent and angry, I'd either be homeless and addicted to drugs, in prison, or lying dead somewhere. When I thought it was over my aunt came into the room I was locked in and asked me how i was doing. She offered to take me home so she and my uncle could give me a better life.
Couldnt tell you the last time I cried like that. My dad gave my aunt all eleven of the pills I had to take daily, some of them multiple times a day, and told her to make sure i took them. Later that day she took me outside where my uncle had started a bonfire and she threw them into the flames, said she wanted to see who I really was.
For the first year and a half, I was a piece of shit. I was still violent because it was all I knew. I'd destroy property, seek revenge, beat up other kids at school if I didnt like the way they looked at me. Stealing was as batural as breathing, and I had even learned how to pick pockets.
She never sent me to the mental ward. She never called the police. She never hit me, my uncle never punched me. They'd try to talk to me instead, and I remember being so angry at them for it. I didnt understand why they wanted to know what I was thinking, and I was jealous they never hit my cousins and how my cousins had friends.
I just didnt understand what kindness was, having never gotten it from my father. To me, kindness was not being floored as hard, or getting away with not being fed a meal or two and grounded for months. I was used to being blamed for things I didnt do, i was used to an alcoholic screaming at me in the middle if the night before usually beating me senseless.
Eventually I started to reflect on it, and I started ti realize the problem wasnt them. It was me. I was letting the past control me. So I asked my aunt if she could take me to a therapist that wasnt in the hospital that I had grown to hate. Therapy was hard. I wasnt used to talking, and I had to have my aunt there to actually make any progress the first few sessions.
When I finally talked to my therapist about everything, she asked if she could tell my aunt, which I agreed because… Well, i felt like shit reliving all of that. Later that night my aunt was crying and said she wished she and my uncle had taken me in sooner.
Seeing how much they cared about me, even after I saw myself as a lost cause, changed something in me. I started trying to be friendlier. Lots of kids at school still stayed away, and I dont blame them. I bullied a lot of them, even ended up hospitalizing one of them after I pushed him to a su*cide attempt. That kid is still alive and has a family now, and we ended on good terms, but decided it was best ti go our separate ways after all of that.
In a year and a half i was almost unrecognizable from how I had spent the first 15 years of my life. I was friendlier, I stopped seeking revenge for things. I even helped my uncle with his farm. I made good friends for my last year and a half of high school, and even they said I was a bit of an oddball, but someone they liked having around because of how cheerful I generally was. I stopped assaukting ither kids and even started preferring to talk things through assertively. I was able to discuss what I wanted without resorting to throwing punches. I learned how to leave things in the past and give second chances.
I owe all of that to my aunt and uncle. Even though I really put them through the wringer, they never gave up on me like so many others did. They changed my life for the better.
I stopped talking to my dad for a long while too, until I found out he had another kid. So I started watching, intent on taking him to court if he started pulling the same stunts on my baby brother.
But I saw something different. He was strict, but he wasnt abusive. Apparently seeing how I changed sparked something in him too, and he was trying to change. He mever asked for second chances or anything like that, and I only found out later that throughout my whoke childhood he was suffering intense PTSD from his tike in combat when he was in the military. He had only recently started working to recover from it.
It took a while, but one year after I moved out of my aunt's place, I cane home for christmas and decided to test the waters a bit and asked if i could crash at his place for the week i was there.
Living that week under his roof again, I saw a huge difference. He still yelled and he still gave spankings, but he wouldnt full on punch my stepsister or my brother, who was three at the time. As i said, strict, but not abusive.
So I did some reflecting again. And by that i mean I gathered some food and disappeared into the woods for a couple days to be alone with my thoughts. What my aunt and uncle taught me about second chances, i wondered if I could give my dad. I only get one dad after all, and if he was really changing for the better, then why hold a grudge? Yeah, i still sometimes stay awake at night because of it. But in the end, if hes changed then why did I want to treat him like he was still abusive?
So I gave him a second chance. I talk to him pretty regularly even though i live overseas now. I spend the holidays at his place too. He's like a father. So now I can say for real: i love my dad. And for my aunt and uncle, I owe them everything. They taught me so much.
Sorry for the rambling. This started off as my distrust for meds and doctors, and I ended up off track. Guess I just needed to get it off my chest.
Keep getting back up, bros. Dont let life keep you down.
I want to go. I’ve been struggling so abd and nobody has noticed, where i live your parents are required for you to go.
Imagine Someone with Epilepsy Soon Realize That He's in a Mental Hospital Soon, So The Doctors Can Analyze The Behavior of it.
Yea well dont go to the VA's mental ward
Them pharmacists will straight hook you up after some blood work at the raise wondow. "So imma gonna need some Ativan for tremors, you say i need folic acid, vit b, vit d, kolonopin. Im also gonna need a nicotine gummie and a patch, and an ensure because i cant eat that food. Also i have a headache sobif you have some fentanyl hook me up. But only ifbitllb outta my system by the time they might release me."
Pharmacist: "i got you baby 😘"
Ive been to a chill one before only rarely we had incidents happen i stayed for 5 months
Now this is how they were like 29 years ago
Highly inaccurate. The psych hospital crisis i work at is extremely hostile
The psych hospital I was FORCED to go to was in Indianapolis & was straight out of “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest”. I was sexually harassed, called a “psycho” by a staff member, & lied to about my medications amongst many, MANY other despicable acts by other patients and STAFF 🤬😩
No "therapy” existed AT ALL 😢
The first part is what the ER is like. Cops bring in psych patients and the patients are aggressive and will often try to assault the medical staff or run out of the hospital. Once a psych facility finally accepts the patient and gets them on meds do they finally clam down. I work in the ER and in a psych hospital talking care of psych patients so I see both parts
ah yes
solitary confinement vs. solitary confinement
I was an outpatient at one and we went to use the gym but we needed to check in at security and wait for them to beep us in. At the entrance there was a pile of shit at the door
The fact someone is sitting down and talking to someone and cari g is already unrealistic, soent 2 months in a ward with no interaction and then i got ejected without warning
From experience It’s both damm some workers treaded me like a criminal when really I have never hurt anyone I just have dreppression and others treat you like there own kids (very well)
Some psych wards are even worse than the first clip u showed fyi
I just came home today from one and i was there for a week
The first one was mine, just turn up the scream of the psychologist and its an exact replica
I get the feeling a lot of people have the impression that psych wards are exactly like they were in Terminator 2.
Honestly, it’s a pretty even split between those two scenarios, but it depends a lot on the individual patients you’re working with.
Ideally, if they show up acting anything like the patient in that first scenario, you want to find the unique formula for their treatment (including the right combo of meds in some cases), that will get them to where they’re like the patient in the second scenario.
What sucks is that what works for one patient doesn’t necessarily work for another, so many times, you’re all but starting off from scratch each time trying to figure out how to crack each patient’s code.
When I was inpatient as a minor, it wasn’t easy. I have a bit of a dark sense of humour with sarcasm so I had to literally stop myself before saying something rude or offensive. The nurses were really nice and understanding, but some just had like a sort of way of speaking that seemed like they were prepared for me to go phsyco. They were still helpful and amazing, don’t get me wrong but there was just this small aftertaste when talking to them. One nurse played uno with me and really talked to me like a friend. Shout out to him.
Dunno dunno
On post-soviet space psych wards look like it's worse than prison and you can end up having worse mental state that you had before
when i went most of the nurses treated us like a "cool teacher" would if that makes sense. but some of them will act like youre a wild animal and i literally got talked to like a dog by one nurse
Obviously you don't know anything about being in the psych ward
honestly, this is probably one psych ward, in most, the patients are literally worse after because of the horrible quality of life in there, in my country, the patients are literally kept in cells, concrete floors and walls with metal grid doors. horrible bathrooms, the whole place smells terrible, and they don't even get good cloths, not even scrubs. our psych wards are also extremely gender biased, while the men typically leave after a month or a year at most, which may seem like a lot, the women are considered mad and left there for 20-30 years. it's truly sad to see this happen.
Funny because I was hospitalized for a suicide attempt and got ignored even during round group talks and looked at by staff like a embarrassment
🫠💋♾️🥳 I haven't had a full body bath or shower since 2018. 🤣👍 It's presently 1:18pm on Sunday, September 22, 2024.
💃🏼💩🪣🏕💃🏼
For real though!!! I had so much stress on the outside that it was a vacation I needed and I hadn’t smiled or felt happy in years until I got committed!!! People think I’m crazy when I say it was the best time ever! I was happy for the first time since I was a teenager! Until now I’m fixing to be married with a son!
It depends which type of prison you get they are not all like either of these they are all different
Wed play scrabble.
Practice cooking
Watch videos.
Group therapy.
A few patients would get upset because of family crisis
In 40 years ive only known of two dangerous patients
Psych wards were better than jail, prison. POW camp. Refugee camps.
Homeless shelters sleeping under a bridge.
Yeah, theyre boring and dull.
they drug you let you get raped they only care about becomeing a lifetime big pharma costmoer that can't say no.
is that diddy???
I was ab^sed in a ward. They yelled at me, beat me, tied me up, and force fed me rotten foods.