My experience with Hospitals
- Jen
- May 23
- 4 min read
This post is purely for me to discuss what I have experienced personally inside hospitals.
Mentions of medication, suicide, mental illness, and eating disorders.
My earliest memory of going to the hospital for my mental health was when I was about 11. I went to the paediatric unit due to being so young. I was there for my anxiety and eating disorders. I was shown BMI charts (bullshit), made to get on a scale, have my waist measured, my height recorded, and point at puberty pictures in a book to show my development. In otherwords, I was humiliated. I was put on a SSRI and sent on my way. Yes, while I was a child.
My next experience with the hospital was the 3ish years I was out patient at the mental health unit. I was 13-16. I'd miss out on math every Thursday because I'd be sitting in the hospital waiting room before i was taken through multiple locked door, sat in a clinical white room and made to 'think mindfully' (also bullshit). The whole 'close your eyes and imagine your feelings are on a leaf floating down a river' crap didn't help. And I'd be bullied about being late all the time. People knew where I was instead.
That doctor. April. Was one of the worst I've ever seen. I was put on more drugs than I can count in those 3 years. And then in my last session, she told me that because I wasn't responding to the depression treatment, I must be lying and delusional. Needless to say I walked out and didn't go back.
Then there was my attempt. I was 19 I think. And I tried to overdose but I was caught, and couldn't go through with my plan. That was the first time I ever went in an ambulance. Those paramedics were lovely to me. That's were the good treatment ends. I was sat in a white room, no door, bed in the middle of the room, people walking past and looking in, and I was alone. For hours. The head of psychiatry came to talk to me eventually. She was a load of crap too.
Apparently because I was caught with the pills still in my hand and not in my mouth or stomach, it didn't count. What do you mean? I would be dead right now if I'd taken that many. How does that not count. I was caught and stopped. I wanted to die more than ever and you're sitting there with a clipboard saying it doesn't count. She then called my mum and her partner at the time into a different room. (A nicer one with comfy chairs and a table) and proceeds to tell them once again, that because I'm not responding to treatments I must either be lying or have BPD.
Do you see a theme...... not responding to treatment for depression...... so maybe, wild thought, it's not depression..... what omg..... I'm getting ahead of myself.
The next time I went to hospital I was freshly 23. So a few years had gone by. This time was different. I was sent there for an OCD assessment. 2 months outpatient. Went in with suicidal thoughts and OCD symptoms. Left with Chronic Suicidal Ideation and Severe OCD. Great. And I did all that alone. I got told I'd be chronically suicidal...forever... alone.
And very recently I was back at that hospital. In hopes of figuring out once and for all, why I'm not responding to treatment for depression. By getting a diagnosis of Bipolar type 2 with Rapid cycling. However, just like every time before, the hospital was completely useless. I came in with a preliminary diagnosis of Bipolar 2, and left with no treatment (other than some antipsychotics that I don't want) and that same preliminary diagnosis. They didn't even formalise it. Because the current psychiatrist 'doesn't believe in diagnosis as a general concept'...... yes that's right folks. A psychiatrist who doesn't believe in labels. But yet he'll throw antipsychotics at me. Great work.
I've been discharged with these pills and I've had the worst experience while being on them. But I'm self managing (against my wishes to see another doctor). So that means I have to play doctor on myself to work out what the hell I'm gonna do now.
So if you wanted an inspirational, go to hospital, post. That's the opposite of what you're getting from me. I hate those places and the system is broken. They will throw pills at you until the list is too long to remember, call you a liar instead of testing for other disorders, and send you home the same night after a suicide attempt. Hospitals are hell.
I hope this was insightful. Or something like that. Maybe it helps you understand what it's like. Or maybe you were just curious.
Either way, hi, I'm Jen. This was my experience with mental health hospitals.
-Jen x
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