/mental/ - Mental Health, Illnesses and Disorders

I have been on mental hospitals six times. Three different places.
I think it's good to be there when the life is to hard to handle.
On the place I have been most times you can wake up whenever you want, the breakfest is 7.30-9.30. Then it's more food and more and more and more. I gained maybe five kilos in two weeks.

Four times, cumulatively about a month.

Each time was different as I was in different stages of denial and anger.

The first time I was a teenager and suicidal, lots of denial, incredibly confused. Parents sent me there. Second time I was in denial that I couldn't control violent urges and was angry, psychotic to a degree, paranoid. Involuntary psych hold but I didn't tell them anything so they let me go. Third time I was resigned to the idea that I deserved to die and a roommate threatened to call the police if I didn't let her take me to the hospital for stitches. I told bits of the truth, didn't believe anyone could help or that there was any hope. Last time, I was suicidal, needed stitches, and had an idea of what was wrong with me so when the nurse asked if I did it on purpose, I said yes and that I wanted to die. I was completely honest. I should have been from the beginning.

Doctors and nurses are so much nicer when you let them do their jobs.

I've never been to one. I figured I'd never end up in one because I'm not really dangerous to anyone. I'd never hurt a fly. Just myself.

Been in one before. Just over two years ago now. Mostly because I was suicidal and couldn't promise anyone I wasn't going to hurt myself. Stayed for two weeks. The breakfast sucked, but the other two meals were pretty rad.

Three times, first was when I was 13 for a suicide attempt, second was for an extreme manic episode two years ago and another one last year because some family had me placed in a hold because of some extreme depression and interpreting writing as suicidal ideations. They were decent facilities I mean it was fully locked and all but no bars or anything and I was kept in like the depressed section once they realized I wasn't a threat or whatever, the one I went to when I was young actually I met my girlfriend or several years there so that's interesting.

Once.
Four days.
It was kinda cool, in retrospect.

My mother's insane, she has BPD and paranoid schizophrenia. When I was 13 she asked me to help my grandmother out one saturday, so I did. When I got back it turned out the pretext for this was her going through my room, under the guise of "cleaning" it. She didn't find shit, because I don't do drugs. Did find some porn though. She turned my room upside down and re-arranged all my furniture.

I told her I felt violated, and the room wasn't mine anymore and I refused to sleep there again. I sat outside contemplating what to do, and resolved to sleep on the couch for the time being.

The following weekend she got me to go out again claiming my grandmother needed help. I knew immediately something was up, but I went along with it anyway. I knew not because she'd already lied about this, but because we were taking her friend's van, and driving out of town.

Sure enough, she drove me to a mental institute. She claimed I was violent and they'd have to drag me in there. I knew at that point, resistance would only work against me, so I stated my disagreement with what was going on, but walked in peacefully, went through all the hoops. By then I had a character I put on with psychologists. Whenever I was around one I'd change my posture, speak clearly, claim responsibility for anything I could, make jokes, and try to use as many big words as I could. Worked every time.

I hated it in there. At that time I'd already been diagnosed with chronic depression (since I was five.) I'd later be diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder, agoraphobia and social anxiety disorder. I just figured I'd do as I was told, and they'd see my mother was full of shit and I'd be out of there before long.

The first night they came into my room and injected something into my arm, on the outside, near the shoulder. They claimed they were drawing blood, but I knew that's not where you draw blood. They finished and I went back to sleep.

The next morning I floated out of the room. High as a kite and cheerful as fuck. Suddenly I was EVERYONE's best friend. The rest of the weekend was actually a lot of fun. I was making friends with people who were severely depressed, made them feel happier, they all wanted to hang out with me, we just sat on the couches, watched vhs tapes and fooled around.

That was the real reason the weekend was fun, while all these people's issues made mine seem ridiculously trivial, this place was full of hot teenage girls who perhaps as an effect of whatever they were drugging us with, all wanted to fuck.

For the record, I didn't. I was 13 and innocent as fuck, and didn't believe them half the time. There was a girl I was friends with who had enormous stitches on her wrists. She and my roommate were an item. There was a very sad girl who was sent there with her little brother because her mother was a prostitute turning tricks in her own damned apartment RIGHT IN FRONT OF her kids. She was 13, and had routine crying fits that she was going to grow up to be a whore like her mother. I'd comfort her and tell her what she became was up to her, not her mom. "My dad's a dentist, I don't want to work on people's teeth."

There was a cute girl who didn't speak a word of english, so god knows why she reached out to me, literally. One morning I'm walking out, and she just grabbed me and dragged me to the water fountain. I stood there confused while she pointed at it. Then I went "Oh!" and held button down on the side so she could drink. She reached down, ran her hand over mine, and then pushed it away content she now knew how to drop it. Every so often after that she's just grab me and drag me somewhere, and make clear her desire to make out. That took me longer to figure out.

Then there was Patti. Sweet Jesus, Patti. Fuck, talk about missed opportunities. Alright, let me run this down. Patti was a Hispanic ginger. Red hair, freckles, giant lips, striking green eyes, and the biggest god damned tits I'd ever seen in my life. She was 14. She was a carefree party girl. She had two friends, her boyfriend, and her best friend who was some chick into wicca. They'd get high and have threesomes. One night they played a prank on her. They gave her what she thought was a blunt, but she said was a "kamikaze". She said it had everything in it. Weed, cocaine, speed, 'roach' pills, etc. She OD'd. When she woke up in the hospital, they informed her she was pregnant. (cont.)

>>2888
(continued…)

Poor girl absolutely wanted to fuck, and enjoyed teasing me about my innocence. I was so nervous about it I actually avoided the situation. We'd be sitting on the couch, she'd put my head in her lap and massage me, and I'd just lay there and enjoy it. She'd lean down and kiss my ear and ask "Do you have a boner?" God help me, I didn't, but I felt like saying that would be insulting her, so I just nodded, got up, and left the room. Spaghetti as fuck. Anyway, while she was fucking gorgeous, I didn't want to fuck a pregnant chick.

She was paired up with the girl whose mom was a hooker, and they started teasing that they were going to have a threesome with me. It became a running joke, but see, thing about this place was, the rooms couldn't be opened from the outside, but could be from the inside, so one night they snuck out of their room and came knocking on my door, and I heard it, but didn't think it was them, so I ignored it and went back to sleep.

She got my phone number from my freaking mom when I got out of there, but I was so nervous off whatever they put me on in there our phone calls just consisted of me going "Uhm… Uhm… Uhm…" a lot.

Anyway, the counselor diagnosed me as just being depressed, and said otherwise I was perfectly normal and healthy. I felt so fucking vindicated, because on top of liking me, several of the staff had altercations with my mother. She never tried that again.

Never take a political science course at a community college in a liberal area. That's all I have to say. I heard SJW jargon before SJWs were even that present on the internet, and yes, post related.

I have been tied in an ambulance, forced to go in psychiatric hospital.
They injected me some stuff because I wanted to sit on the floor even it was forbidden.
Some days in coma. I woke up in a locked room without furniture, only a mattress as bed. Only authorized to go out the roome (but still indoor) one hour a day.
After some days I got furnitures back, unlocked door, and possibility to go in the garden.
Then I moved to an other place (first one was admission center, I moved to a young dedicated place).
I Spent about one month in hospital. I think it's an awful place, even I met nice people in the patients.
I saw some of them outside months or years later, we didn't speak to each othe. I felt like we had to be solidar inside, because it's a hard place, but ouside you have to manage your stuff by yourself…

>Norway
>8 PM
>cold
>dark as fuck
>exercise intensely (Tabata intervals) for the first time in a month or so, something I'm supposed to do three times a week
>finish the last interval
>headspace changing drastically
>indescribable change of reality in 30 seconds
>go inside and wait for five minutes saying nothing to my dad, don't want to worry him
>doesn't end
>30 minutes, doesn't end
>fear hemorrhage or similar
>fear psychosis
>tell dad
>go to emergency clinic
>doctor specialized in hemorrhage, stroke and stuff, has no theories
>go home
>wake up feeling fine

So yeah, it's not a very spectacular story. Every time I've been psychotic I've hid it well from my parents, which isn't hard as I stay in the basement all day long and only come up for dinner. After my obsessions, delusions, insomnia and scratched up, acne-ridden face (when psychotic, the minuscule acne I have blows out of proportions because I pick nervously at it unconsciously) subside, I have myself a good night's sleep and tell my parents about it. And when I'm manic I'm totally happy, and when I'm depressed I sedate myself through it, and I never have suicidal thoughts. So I've never felt/had the need to be hospitalized, even though I probably should be when psychotic.

The last time I was psychotic, I started a thread on /b/ declaring that I've solved a bunch of the Zodiac killer's ciphers. After providing a little bit of "proof" (I actually suspect one line of success, because the coincidence would be astronomically improbable), hundreds posted, encouraged it and believed me, and at least 5 threads reached the bump limit. So you can imagine it was a severe one when everyone tells you it's real because you've convinced them it is.

>>3193
I know what you mean man, when you're young its a ton of chicks half of them took like 10 tylenol for a pay more attention to me kind of thing, and the rest are just depressed or whatever and cool as hell. Now that I've grown up going to one it really is all old people or dudes that are beyond fuck. And crackwhores….

>>2145
Yeah, lots. But never as a patient. I've had to visit my sister in over five different mental hospitals.

The places are always understaffed, and kinda awkward to be in.

What is a state hospital like, anyone know? I've only been in a short term type of place, how really are state ones tho

I've been in two short term places and a long term place, all after suicide attempts.

>first time
>police come because I was dumb enough to tell my friend I was going to do it
>sent to emergency room
>spend the night there, making sure I was OK
>next day send me to a short term facility
>kids of all ages there, some with obvious mental issues like severe autism, others just some kids with anger issues or drug problems
>surprised that not many people with obvious depression were there
>staff was pretty OK, group therapy was campy and obnoxious, food was awful.
>every day was pretty much the same: day room, morning news/current events, breakfast, group therapy, lunch, individual therapy, dinner, and some free time thrown throughout there.
>leave in 10 days after it's clear I'm not an immediate threat and the meds aren't doing anything crazy

Then a few months later I tried to kill myself again
>parents call police
>night in emergency room, see the cop from the first attempt
>next day go to short term facility
>nicer place, nicer staff, food still awful
>insurance being a bitch in terms of covering a long-term facility, actually stayed there a month when the average is 5-10 days
>saw kids come and go, this place actually let the boys and girls interact.
>most of the kids seemed more mellow than the first place, depression being a larger portion than drugs/anger
>pretty much the same daily cycle as the last place
>finally get into a long-term facility
>autism, anger, and drugs everywhere, depression is only me and like 2 other guys
>no interaction with the girls
>daily classes, but they were a joke
>food still terrible
>individual therapy once a week
>group every day
>group still campy as all shit
>we were graded in our behavior, and those with the highest scores got good food and a movie on friday
>I made it every week, convinced the staff to let us watch afro samurai and eat fried chicken, shit was cash
>had a quiet room where people could go and beat the walls and yell and shout
>magnet locks on the doors, kids constantly kicked them open
>kids getting shots in the ass daily
>roommate liked to draw, got a bunch of pastels from his mom, and in a fit of rage used up every single one of them on the wall in a big blob
>one kid accused a staff member of putting "dooky" on his (the kid's) sheets and wiping "dooky" on his (the staff's) forehead
>6 months of this bullshit
>find out a while after I got out that the facility was shut down due to the staff abusing the kids, though I never experienced any of it.

the short term places were kind of fun, in the "time to let off some steam" kinda way, but I never want to do a long term place again. I can only imagine adult facilities are worse.

I have told my therapist about my mass murder fantasies. Nothing has happened.

I'm British though

>>3616
my brother is in one
>high security comparable to a county jail
>no decoration or comforts of any sort, you are very aware you are in an institution

I was in a psych ward of a general hospital for a week. It was for observation, not a crisis (I had been living as a hikky for a few years and my parents decided to do something about it). It was excruciatingly boring, there was basically nothing to do except lie in bed or chain smoke/binge drink coffee in the tv room. We got to use the gym 1 hour a day which was a relief, and sometimes a psychologist came for some really stupid group shit, I remember we had to draw something about a certain subject and then explain our feelings about it in group. They also did physical tests, bloodworks, EEG and brain scan. Apparently I have an abnormal EEG and a neurologist came and said it kind of looked like epilepsy and he prescribed Tegretol to see if it had an effect on me which it didn't. I felt absolutely awful being in this place so they gave me a benzo which made me feel even worse and when I told them I wanted to leave a fat nurse tried to convince me to play board games with him. I left against their advice and had to sign a paper saying it was my responsibility. Afterwards I did 2 years of daily outpatient therapy which was much better.

>>8653
Is that normal for British people?

>>8684
If it isn't, it should be, that place sucks.
Honestly thought that was a normal thing most people have. It's not?

>>8684
I'm pretty sure its normal for a lot of people during certain periods and that. Similar fantacies are much more common (i wish all one direction fans would die), that kind of shit.

The only reason you americans care about it because you have a school shooting at about the same rate a teenage boy masturbates

Yes, for about 2 weeks.

The place was exactly what you would expect of a hospital: Bright white lights, white walls, white and light blue tile floors. Obviously zero attempts at making it feel comfortable.

My room was a rather large room, about the size of your average living room, with a giant and really thick plexiglass window covering one half of the wall. The window was only translucent so only vague outlines and light could come through it. The bed wasn't even a mattress, it was just a thick foam mat but I was able to request a geomat to put on top of it.

The building overall was rather small, there were only 8 of us there, I think. It was an adolescent hospital so everyone there was more or less around my age group. In the center of the building was a lobby with 4 tables, a semi-circular couch that faced a TV that was used for some behavioral videos. There were a few board games and puzzles that some would play around with during our free time. Overall it felt like being permanently in a school building but far more restricted.

The food was actually pretty good, contrary to what I thought. We were able to have parental visits on Tuesdays and Thursdays. There were a few group activities we did, I never really bothered much with participation because if there was any time to tell the truth how I felt, it was now. I actually got up and excused myself from one because it pissed me off. I spent most of my time in my room drawing. Thankfully I was allowed a sketchpad and some pencils, the other kids seemed to like my drawings which was a bit of a relief.

At random times, a doctor would come in our rooms to privately do some tests or something. I didn't quite mind these(either interactive or on paper like a school test), I actually enjoyed them as the more I did, the faster I would get out of there(I was mostly there because after 2 years of seeing a doctor, I still didn't have a clear diagnosis and needed to be closely observed for a bit to get an accurate diagnosis.)

Oh, we also had to do a sort of medical checkup each morning measuring our heart race and temperature.

Overall, it was a meh experience. By no means was it fun or relaxing, but it wasn't hellish or tormenting. It did, however, give me a good deal of time to think peacefully. I also got the nickname "The whistler" while I was there because, due to the lack of music, I had to whistle to keep me from breaking down from a sort of 'musical withdrawal.' Apparently people could hear it all the way down the hallway when we were sent to our rooms an hour before lights out.

twice, both for about two months when I was 19.

I dont remember much. I was manic, and I think everyone else made me worse. Some scitso dude said he shared his brain with a time lord called steve and he told him my thoughts.

People liked me though. I talked to the nurses a lot and apparently everyone could hear me singing in the shower and Got used to that (I didn't realise until quite late)

I was the youngest one there and I went in for bipolar disirder, my mum sorted it out because I didnt want to sleep at home, I had a breakdown on a plane and I was sort of seeing faces on walls and things. Not true hallucinations, just like when christians see jesus in a cup of tea or something

I got out by pretending I was better. I had realised that the only way of appearing well to the doctors was by shutting up and not showing emotion. There was no therapy, only medication. The only time I'd talk to a doctor was about what parts of how I act was because of my personality or my illness. I still struggle to tell the difference.

>>8783
Isn't it normal to see faces in the walls?

http://www.livescience.com/25448-pareidolia.html

It was useless to me. They just stuffed me with drugs and that was supposed to solve all my problems. It didn't.

About 2 months after I dropped out of university. It mostly catered to psychotic adolescents. It just felt like a youth hostel with therapy sessions in between. Germany btw.