Psych Ward // - Tumblr Posts
So! Not only are we out, but we also had our health taken more seriously by a nurse in the trauma ward than any doctor ever. Turns out the fainting spells are because the heart beats too slow!
Also, we got a foot in the door of like, understanding why we are the way we are and digesting trauma and whatnot while we were in there. And have a fancy new diagnosis(not necessary for DID, but it will make some things easier in the future).
The only downside is most of us forgot how to be human outside the hospital.
how to open up to your therapist without being admitted to the mental hospital again (no borax) (no glue)
Okay, so I saw this video getting recommended to me by YouTube, and before I remembered what suicide squad (the actual movie) is about, my brain just casually assumed there's gotta be a connection between the picture in the thumbnail and the word "suicide" in the name. But after I DID remember what the movie was actually about, I figured that having a movie called "suicide squad" which is about five suicidal people who met each other and became friends at a psych ward, and the personal journeys of each of them and how they affected one another, is actually a really really good idea.
The poster is just five hands in psych-ward-bracelets doing a collective high five.
Sometimes I regret lying to the psychiatrist in the hospital....well, maybe not actually lying more like hiding stuff and playing this whole 'I am strong and not mentally ill kid' role.
I've read some books about being in psych ward and I personally think it's not that bad as we see it. For sure you feel safer there than in the world out here, you have people who actually care about you (doctors and nurses) and you might meet some people who are a lot like you ...
I really want to go there, even just for this protection and understanding. That might help me a lot...
Life update for the void;
My friend is coming back!!!!
He dropped out of our school a few years ago but he’s coming back so I’ll see him more than twice a year now!!! And he’s trying to meet up so he can do my nails
I’ll probably post about him a bit because I’m so worried he needs a support system rn and so I need to be a friend and a good one
I’m really worried because I sometimes have off days that last for weeks or even months and I feel like I can’t get flaky on him
If anyone has had experience with this either trying to give support or being the one coming back please share
Yeah so I guess I decided to make this cause I’ve read a lot of fics and a lot of times people get the stuff that happens in a psych hospital wrong and because I’ve been in one a lot more than probably most people it kind of jars me out of the fic. And I know a lot of writers like to get things accurate if they can.
I didn’t really know what to put on the slides, so I tried my best, sorry if it’s boring or whatever.
Um… If you have more questions than what I covered here, feel free to ask me. I’m always open about talking about my experiences from being in a psych hospital or in day programs.
So yeah um enjoy?
Tw: Failed Suicide attempt, Suicidal thoughts, Self harm (hinted), Abuse of Power, Psych Wards, Implied other forms of Abuse, Severe Mental Illness, Forceful Medication (Mentioned)
My time in the mental hospital wasnt fun. Of course no ones reallly is but regardeless. It wasn‘t necessarily the worst, but i have some horror stories. Like when an adult patient came into the childrens ward becuase he was „still in highschool“ and was loudly argued with and then had to be dragged out by the police. Or when i got put in the bad corner for tapping on the wals during quit time and then when i asked for a pen and paper to write down my feelings ,a coping mechanism we had just talked about in group, i was denied and then was left becuase someone else started having a breakdown and asked to be moved to the other mental illness timeout corner so i was less likely to hurt myself ,literally taking initiative and attempting to do the best for my own mental health, and was then called attention seeking for bothering someone when my fellow patient was having a breakdown (the guy who i was asking permission from was just sitting at a desk). What i hated the most was the fact that i wasn’t allowed to say goodbye to anyone because they took me away during quiet time and when i started arguing they threatened to keep me for another week. Sure i have more stories, there was a nine year old who was both suicidal and homicidal, but guess What? She was nice. She had to be put on paper only gowns, lived in the white room, had to be forcefully fed meds, and had been to that specific hospital 5 times alone, and she treated me with more compassion then any of the nurses did. We were friends, i helped her draw, and she confided in me terrible things she had not told anyone about her home-life because i treated her like a human. I never saw her again. The point to this, above all else, is that this system doesn’t work. I felt just as suicidal as I had before but now I was more scared to tell the truth about that because I didn’t want to go back. The people in power have no one to check that they are actually helping and the patients become inmates more often then not. And I know that ill try and commit again, and i hope to god that i‘ll succeed, because i can not go back there again.
Medical labels
In my stay there was one possibly diagnosis that, when brought up, always welled up some anger. It was Depression, because I see it as an invalidation of my feelings. It means directly that I do not have good reason to feel sad or empty, that this is a mere chemical imbalance. A complete dismissal of the mindless droning boredom of the ward, it's emptiness infected me like a plague and they blamed me for that.
Well, I guess I can't complain too much, they did have shitty wi-fi and one and a half activities for a full day and also zero places to be alone in. Yeah, I really can't see why I stayed in bed on my laptop all day. Fuck you people for validating my trauma with psychs.
I passed a test. It was test on borderline personality disorder...
little pretty cutting
Dlaczego nie chcę z@b!c się?
Skuteczne popełnienie sämöbójßtwa jest bardzo trudne. Podejmując pröb3 bardziej prawdopodobne jest, że uszkodzimy siebie do końca życia niż to, że skończymy życie. Mam szacunek do wszystkich, którym udało się dokonać s w wyniku, którego ümärli. Chociaż nie ma was wśród nas wiedzcie że jesteście bohaterami. Mieliście piekło na ziemi ale teraz czeka na was raj.
My friend's first visit to the psychiatrist is on next Wednesday. I say her about it bc I have huge experience.
Warning this story is about eating disorders and time spent in the psych ward.
When I was sixteen I was admitted to a psych ward. And there was this girl there that I've never been able to stop thinking about. Everything I say about her is what I've seen; from what people told me about her, she never spoke.
While I was there, there were four people there that I knew were there for having an eating disorder and she was one of the four. she walked around with an IV pole that I watched her nearly trip over now and again.
There were only two single-person rooms, she and another girl with an eating disorder had them.
In the ward, the beds you sleep on are so thin you might as well have slept on the floor. But hers was the only room on our unit with a normal hospital bed. She had a woman whose job was to follow her around while she walked from her room through the hallways and a few times into the lounge. it seemed like she had no idea where she was.
I'd tell her good morning and goodnight almost daily, but it never felt like she saw me. She always seemed like she looked right through me. But one day while we were in the lounge she went to sit next to me. She usually just sits in a chair away from anyone else for maybe ten seconds before standing back up and wandering off, I watched her almost miss the chair when she went to sit down, the woman whose job was to follow her had to push her a little to make sure she sat in the chair instead of falling off the side of it. We sat there silently for about two minutes next to each other. It was the longest I ever saw her sit in a chair. The woman smiled at me and told me that she liked me. She then got back up and continued her usual walk around the hallways.
I saw a puddle of pee in her room one time and heard a nurse talk about helping her get into a pull-up. I mentioned it to a friend of mine who had been there longer than I had telling her how I felt bad that she lives like that. My friend then told me that she purposely pees herself to get the pull-ups, she had no idea why. But I imagine it's because it must be easier to have someone help you change yourself a few times a day, then come with you to help and watch you every time you're in a bathroom. But I'll never really know why she prefers the pull-ups.
But the main thing that keeps me thinking of her is what I saw once during visiting hours. The way that it was set up was sometime around 6 pm. I can't remember the exact time, it has been a few years. visitors would come for an hour, and then after that, it was room time. During room time one day I was sitting in my doorway watching whatever the nurses were doing when I saw who I assumed was her dad was still there. I thought it was weird that he got to stay after everyone had left. I sat at my door wondering why they were in the hallway instead of the lounge when I realized it was because she was doing what she always did, just wandering up and down the hallway. I watched as she looked at her dad and he waved at her while she just looked at him for a moment, only a second. Then she went back to her wandering. I walked into my room and just sat on my bed. I thought about how her dad must feel to be watching his daughter just fade away like that.
When I would hear people talk about why you should fight your eating disorder it was always something about how you should be happy with how you are, self-love. They talk about how starving yourself could cause you to gain more weight. How vomiting can destroy your teeth and how your hair thins and falls out. But I don't think that does the disorder justice for the debilitating disease it is. The idea of being skinny enough is what takes over your mind ignoring how you feel and the hunger. Your body starts to panic and does anything to keep itself alive. But eventually, your body can only spare so many resources, and parts of you start to shut down. Then suddenly theirs nothing of you left.
She did this thing with her hands where she would put her thumb in her palm and then squeeze her hands into a fist. It was the only thing she did that reminded me that she was once a person, and not always this wondering body that may never get better. And may not make it all.