Psych Ward

In September of 2018, I lost my emotional support animal, Rascal. Not only was Rascal my puppy that had been there for 10 years, but he had been there on nights I put blades to my skin, nights I had been molested, nights where I tried to kill myself, nights ex boyfriends would throw me down stairs, push me out of cars, and throw me to the floor, and nights where no one was there for me. Losing him was one of the biggest pains, simply because he held all of that in his small, ten pound, four-legged body. The worst part about it was, it only took him a few hours to die. We did not expect him to grow so fuckin sick in hours and I did not expect to hold my very best friend as we had to end his suffering from a silent cancer. This drove me off the rails. Who was going to let me cry on them and cheer me up at the same time? Who was going to hold my deepest secrets and not tell a soul? In October of 2018, after nights on end of college parties, drinking bottles on top of bottles, staying around friends I knew were fake but they kept it from being silent, I knew it was time. I knew that I was ready to kill myself. I had nothing. So, I disappeared with no trace. No one knew where I went, if I died, or been taken. I drove to a psychiatric hospital and checked myself in. I told myself, if I still want to kill myself after getting professional help, I can. But first, I have to try. For a suicidal person, I was quite reasonable. I knew I wanted to get better but knew that it would take a village for someone with as much trauma as me. I was fucking scared. I had never even seen a hospital specifically for psychiatric needs. I had been in and out of the Psych wing of Emergency Rooms, but never to a hospital that specializes. I was scared, but oddly excited. I WANTED to get better. I did not want to constantly feel suicidal and sickened by myself. Just barely over a month before, I had gotten raped on my BIRTHDAY.

Walking in, it was what I would imagine jail is like. They have a sheet of paper with a body demo on it where they document any noticeable markings on your entire body. So yes, you get NAKED. As they are examining your ins and outs, having you bend over to cough and make sure there’s nothing stuck up your ass when you know the only thing stuck up your ass is the shit that will be coming out pretty soon, other physicians are going through your belongings that you brought in. You were allowed three books, clothes with NO strings in it or they would cut them out, and a pair of flip flops/ sandals. You couldn’t even have your own socks or toiletries. They provided all of that in a see through compartment box with your name on it.

After getting checked in, you’re assigned a room with a roommate. The room was all white, white sheets, white pillows, white walls and if you even think about using anything in there to kill your self or your roommate, they’ve already thought about it.

I could barely even recover before it was time for a “Morning meeting.” What the fuck do I want to meet in the morning about? Bitch, I wasn’t even expecting to meet myself in the morning. But... I guess that’s how I ended up here. The morning meeting forced us to think positively about ourselves. It forced us to take the negatives we thought on ourselves and transform them into positive thoughts.

And as I’m over here thinking about how to change how ugly I think I am into something positive, they bring in this demented looking red-head girl in handcuffs and cuffs around her feet.

Shit just got real. This bitch HAS to be crazy.

Now I can’t even focus on how ugly I am... I mean, how beautiful my heart is. All I can focus on is how she’s about to murder me because not just anyone gets their feet cuffed too. The cops immediately take her to her room and they start to examine her. By this time, I’ve zoned out thinking about the crazy red head so much that the morning meeting is over and I don’t even know what came out of it. They then tell us to line up for breakfast, stopping me and saying breakfast will be brought to me because I’m on a 72 hour lock down. Damn, I just got here. What the fuck did I do already? My bad.... damn. But then a fellow crazy person tells me that everyone gets on that 72 hour lockdown when they get in. He introduced himself to me, his name was Josh. As they walk out in a line to the cafeteria, I’m left with this lady who has been walking in circles since I got here.

Me being me, I start walking in circles with her and introduce myself. Janet wasn’t walking in circles cause she was crazy, she was walking in circles because of her severe ADHD and an adverse reaction to Seroquel, a sedative. My first friend.

*This experience is my own and in no way represents every psychiatric experience or hospital. Names are altered to protect the identities of these amazing people that I met inside of the hospital.*