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Just chiming in on some of my stays in psychiatric holds, which I prefer to call crazy people jail because that's what it feels like. Ended up in there a few times in various places, but the most vivid time was a week in the high security ward. The days were quite boring; they had some half assed quick art classes and physical therapy but it was mostly you were on your own for the day. We didn't even have therapy sessions, group or solo. We did have a tv and computer though and one kid kept getting kicked off for downloading manga. The food was dire but I wasn't eating at the time anyway. The patients mostly kept to themselves either quietly or loudly. The old ladies liked to scream a lot. I mostly talked to staff or this one cute boy who was in for having a police standoff with a crossbow while attempting suicide by cop. Otherwise I kept to myself. My appointed psychiatrist was very against medicating in any circumstance which was absurd and hellish considering what was going on with me at the time. I let him know what I thought of him often which probably didn't help that. This was all in the Bay Area of California, by the way, as an adult female. It mostly just felt like lock up adult day care and the feeling of being confined with nowhere to run is soul crushing. I left because usually my parents sprung me once they saw how miserable and useless it was. Other times my time was up and they gave me a taxi voucher to get home. The first cigarette of freedom is so beautiful. I don't recommend it if you have any sort of consciousness left.
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# ¿ Jun 18, 2017 18:20 |
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# ¿ Apr 29, 2024 00:51 |