Sunday, June 30, 2013

Tales of ECMCs psych ward..a "healthcare" facility

The first patient they put me with in the small bare room with two beds was 200lbs of muscle.  He started drawing obscenities and graffiti over my bed, asking me questions about myself.  Then he started calling me bitch.  He put on my shirts and laid in his bed with a smirk on his face like what was i going to do about it. it was like schoolyard bullying.   he came over to my bed and put his arm around me and started trying to tickle me. "why you so serious" i didnt want the guy touching me. then one of the nights he walked over to me while i was sitting in the chair on my side of the room doing a crossword puzzle put his crotch in my face pulled his pants down and put his penis directly in my face then he said "come on you know you want to."  I left the room.  when i came back he started a verbal argument got in my face while he was shirtless and pulled back his fist like he was going to hit me but stopped before hitting me. everyday he would take of his shirt and make poses with his muscles trying to intimidate me. the problem was the drugs made me feel exhausted like extremely exhausted and the combination of the stress was making me feel internally racked. i told them about all this and the nurse rolled her eyes said there werent any other rooms open. they didn say anything to the guy and they were rude when i told them about it.  i wanted to sleep i was so tired to but i was frightened to so i crumpled up and felt total shock from sleep deprivation.  i was with this guy for a week and on a huge dose of medication.  i felt my stomach give out it made me so weak at one point. i was exhausted but afraid to sleep.  i started feeling incontinent and had to run to the bathroom in which i would have long liquid bowel movements...just streams of water coming out of me.  the tough guy started saying to me you're such a bitch i bet you piss sitting down.  i felt so weak after those two weeks on the ward. literally like the strength had been squeezed right out of me.  then they painted the halls and the room i was in...painted them bare in mind the windows were sealed. there was no circulation and i was in this place 24/7 all week. maybe you have not been stuck in a wet painted sealed room all day. i started to feel high in the head..nauseous this in combination with the medication.  the staff would slam open the doors in the morning.  it was a terrifying shock. i would be passed out from the heavy doses of medication then BAM.  im talking slamming these things open.  i jumped out of bed when they did this and my heart was pounding in my chest.  then they came in with mops and buckets and dumped cleaner on the floors and cleaner on the counters. god how i needed a breathe.  when i told the staff at the desk about the patient i was with being violent swinging his fist at me the woman literally rolled her eyes to me and told me "well we cant change any of the rooms right now." i told her he was violent coming over to my bed touching me wearing my clothing..she wasnt concerned at all she talked to me like i was an annoyance and she did not care in the slightest. real nice staff.  the place was so ghetto.  the cleaning staff would slam open the doors in the morning it made me lurch awake/  i just sat there shocked with my heart pounding.  before i was put on the psych unit they had me on the geriatric unit for two nights before a bed opened up.  i witnessed the staff handling the elderly patients roughly talking to them rudely and commandingly.  it was abusive.. im not a criminal. im not a bad person. i dont know why this was done to me...i dont deserve this shit.. but the fact of the matter is im willing to go through all this treatment all these theraputic services take all this medication pay these doctors and agree with everything they say because i never want to be back in a place like that.  how this is good for people i dont know. i spent my days looking out a sealed window at a parking lot.  i felt so debilated after a month waiting to be discharged when i was finally released it felt like i was never back to my old self anymore. i had become used to being on edge..used to being around aggressive strangers.  one of the patients said what the fuck are you looking at when i just made eye contact with him another patient swung a pool cue at me while we were in the recreation room and stopped inches from me..he swung it full swing like a baseball bat. it made my heart lurch and then i felt sick and weak from the drugs toll. it was a sudden shock that my body just couldnt tolerate from being so exhausted from the the slamming of the doors it was a sudden shock inside it was like racking my body.  they encouraged me to research my "illness" and they gave me things to read. the more I read the crazier it made me feel about myself.  after 6 months of involuntary outpatient treatment every day of the week where everyday the topic was the illness i became focused on this disease. it was their obsession and they wouldnt let me forget it. as if it defined me. I had it..right and now they were literally communicating it to me..i guess mental illnesses are communicable diseases..all this stuff about how it made my life a challenge all of these things...all of these problems and symptoms i never i need drugs to balance my insane mind when they make me lose my feelings literally.they keep me numb..they block dopamine receptors as in pleasure fresh air the pleasure from it gets blocked and you wonder why people get depressed on these drugs..  they tell me things like i had the disease and i didnt even know it. i used to feel quite sane and normal after all this shit im a mess physically my self esteem is fucked from being made into a bitch and i doubt my better judgement.  the medication would make me vomit and give me diarehea and like clockwork everynight at 4 am a horrible burning would start in the core of my chest and it would last for about an hour until it became so intense i would vomit.  my vomit had this horrendous chemical taste from the medication and then it was time to go to day treatment at 7 am. i was so exhausted i was dragging my feet literally.  in the mornings i found an old abandoned stairwell in the facility walked to the very top and slept in the corner on the floor. i was so tired it felt like life and death.  one morning i went inside one of the counselors cars and slept in the backseat before he came down and pounded on the back window.  "what are you doing!" like i was a crazy man. sorry buddy my body desperatly needs sleep not to sit in some room while these counselors persuade, convince, and pressure how insane i am.  whats insane is this brown chemical vomit im puking up every night..what is insane is how this drug hits me like a freight train and i dont fall asleep or go to bed anymore but pass the fuck out and wake up feeling like i spent the entire night getting tanked.  but i didnt say that i went back to day treatment. one thing they had plenty of was coffee..i didnt want to make myself anymore strung out then i was. the medication made me so weak and so rired i wasnt about to do more drugs to make myself jittery and wiry no i had to find ways to sleep.  it was a horrible experience..and ive seen people who are permanently trapped in those facilities people being shocked in those places with no homes with no decent human contact.  they look like theyve been retarded. they dont blink or swallow or have any recollection of their past lives.  after they get shocked they have vomit on their chin..its god awful.  i never want to be one of those people so I agree to the medication even though it makes my entire body feel like shit. even though it exhausts me.  and in order to be considered mentally well and healthy you have to go back to work and work on the body is weak and tired but i work. at the end of the day i feel drained but at least im on the outside and not stuck in some small room with a thug making me his bitch.  hospital..its probably worse than a fucking prison.

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