My time in the mental institution
 

I haven't posted for a while mainly because I had to leave my group home (thanks to bedbugs and a house manager who steals my pudding/cheese). Now I'm a proud 30 year old man living with his parents. Anyway, this isn't about that. This is about my time in the mental place.

What lead up to it was me having panic attacks and generally being afraid to leave the house for more time than it took to get to the store and get food. It was probably brought on by my working from home and my general hatred of people. I called the EMS twice in a week because I thought I was having a heart attack (panic attacks). So I decided to check myself in to crazy central and stayed there for 25 days.

The hospital floor I was on consisted of 2 day rooms and 16 patient rooms. There were 2 patients to a room and the rooms were of good size. The big day room had a 26 inch tv and 4 large tables to sit at with 4 chairs to a table and also 3 sofas. In the very back corner was a small round table with 2 chairs. This is where I sat and did my origami most times. It overlooked an overpass where I could watch cars go by (fun times) and I put my origami on the windowsill there.

The staff consisted of nurses, techs, and psychiatrists. The nurses dispensed pills while the techs had to check on us every 15 minutes to see if we were alive(even while sleeping), write down what we were doing and what our mood was. What a boring fucking job. They also checked our vital signs every morning to make sure our blood pressure was cool. The psychiatrists would see us 6 days a week for about 4 minutes to ask how our pills were working or what was going on.

We'd get woken up every morning at about 7 for vital signs to be taken or blood to be drawn. Then at 8 was breakfast, 9 was our first group therapy session, 11 was another, then 12 was lunch. 1 was another group, 3 was another group, 4:30 another group and 6 was dinner. Snacks were dispersed 3 times a day. Medicines were given in the morning and at night after 8 unless it was an as needed medicine. The day rooms closed at 11. I really liked the order of it all. It was enjoyable to finally have a schedule that I could go by. I really did like the groups too. I felt like I could be honest with people there and I probably came of as dickish when I'd argue with people about their problems. Some relied on god too much and I was always in a mood to argue religion with them. Some of the groups we'd just play a board game or arts and crafts and others would teach us relaxation techniques. There were spirituality groups that I'd go to and sit in the back. The chaplin there really didn't like me and I could tell, even though I made no trouble during his groups.

My roommates were pretty interesting. I had 3 the whole time I was there. The first one was named David. He was in his 60's and his hands shook all the time. Despite this he had the best penmanship I've ever seen. And he pretty much stayed in the room all the time. He came out to eat or to go to a random group every now and then to say he was participating. But other than that, he'd sit in the room and write. David went through at least 60 pieces of paper a day. I never asked him what he was writing, but when I'd peek, there were complex math equations on the paper. He once told me that he wrote some fiction, but really liked writing science fiction too. Anytime I'd discuss anything with him other than that he'd just look at me and say "Riiiiiiight" like he understood but didn't care. His only flaw in my eyes was that he pissed all over the floor and seat of the toilet. I couldn't fault him because of how shaky he was. I was sad to see him leave about half way through my stay.

My second roommate was an old dude named Eric. I didn't get to know him for the first days he was there. All he wore was a hospital gown and it was really weird. I came to learn that he had no clothes he could wear there. I guess they found him naked or something. He did have with him several books, which I found amusing since he didn't have clothes but did have books. I got to know him pretty well by the end. He was in there because of stress. He was an ex stock broker from new york who had turned to crack and heroin. When he quit, his wife didn't and was taking all of his pills. He was trying to help her out by feeding her any pills he got for his problems so she wouldn't go into withdrawals. She even ate his heart meds. While he was in the hospital, she was in a hotel room slowly going crazy from withdrawals. He kept trying to get out so that he could get some pills and get them into her. Despite his frantic lifestyle he did teach me Buddhist stuff and gave me a book "When Things Fall Apart" which was a good read about meditation and shit. When he left, he was supposedly going to go get his wife some pills, then try and either get her into rehab or send her away to some friends in california so that he could get to family in new york and restart his life.

The last guy who was my roommate was the worst. And probably the reason why I left when I did. His name was Charles. He wasn't a bad person but he was constantly farting and his bowel movements smelled up the whole room for at least 4 hours. By the end I was sleeping in the day room under the nurses permission due to the stink he'd be letting out all night. I will never forget the awful stench. It was like a turd threw up and the puddle of puke took a shit. Terrible.

Anyways, is this shit boring? Should I even bother telling about the people I met or the things I encountered?

Since everyone else treats this place as their own personal Breakfast Club, I guess you might as well spill all of your shit on the table and tell everyone about your problems, too.

Nah man, keep typing if you like, I'm reading it.

I sort of thought that you would just get hours and hours and hours of sitting by yourself with nothing to do, but it sounds like that wasn't the case at all, and that you always seemed to have somewhere where you were supposed to be heading next.

I always figured the day I would be put in a mental hospital I would teach myself some languages and write a sci fi novel, but maybe I just wouldn't have the time. I don't like the sounds of having the whole day regimented, so I guess I'm the opposite of you and perhaps a lot of other patients.

It was well put together and easy to read, i'll keep reading.

I hope you got something useful out of the time you spent in there and
a place where you can be honest and get shit off your chest sounds nice.

Keep going, ignore the snarky Canadian

Sounds like you went to an all inclusive resort, not a mental institution. I imagine them as a lot of cells with doors that have tiny windows on them with a room where they perform the lobotomies.

I want to hear more.

i really want breakfast now

Ok, I suppose I shall keep writing about the place. And yes, I did treat the place as a resort. The only real differences are that we couldn't go outside. The only sunshine I felt was what came through the reinforced windows. Oh, and the whole deal where we couldn't wear belts, clothes with drawstrings, shoe laces, or anything with a string or use any electronic items other than the televisions. Q-tips were apparently off limit too. I asked why and apparently there was a patient who thought he could kill himself by pushing it into his brain through his ear. The guy ended up deaf in one ear and q-tips were outlawed. The food was really excellent and I found that even though I ate a good amount, since they portioned it out to be the right amount, I didn't gain any weight from eating that much.

When I first got in there, I spent about 3 days just hanging out in my room while I was getting used to the medicines. They made me pretty lethargic. After that I ventured out and met some of the patients. The ones who were there when I got there that I can remember are Randy, Joyce, the girl I'm dating, and an opera singing redhead with huge tits.

Randy came in there on his own accord because he feared what he'd do to his wife. He was a guitar playing preacher who was also a proponent of weed legalization (as were most people inside the hospital). They allowed him to bring his guitar in for some reason. I only later found out what happened with his wife to make him so pissed at her. His wife had started worshiping the occult and doing witchcraft. She threw out all of his bibles and was practicing as a witch. He had gotten out for a day, but then came right back in that night after his wife had done something with their cat. I'm not sure what that situation was. But he did play really good guitar.

Joyce had been there the longest out of all of the people on our floor. She was there for 3 months. Her problem was that she would talk about killing her husband all day long. He had left her after 30 years and so naturally she was upset. He feared for his life so he put her into the hospital. She did talk to herself a whole lot and said they only kept her in there because she loved to dance. Anytime music would come onto the tv, she would get up and try and shake it like she was an 18 year old stripper. It was entertaining and would be kind of hot if she wasn't 65.

The girl I'm seeing now shall remain nameless because I know you jerks will find her since her name is the only one of it's kind in austin. She shan't know what an awful person I am before I've had my way with her. Anyways, she was inside the hospital because her right hand shakes for hours at a time. She'd been to many doctors and found none that could help so one told her to check into there. She's 4'10, really skinny, and a vietnamese australian. Her australian accent is barely there, but it's sexy all the same. I chose to woo her over the hot redhead due to how smart she was and funny. She's almost graduating college as a pharmacist. Very cool and if I shall be her mate, very lucrative. The only thing bad about her is that she wants me to cut my hair and I have to pretend to be a nice fellow in her presence when I am secretly a dastardly hooligan.

The big breasted redheaded opera singer was just stunning. I only mention her because she is probably the hottest girl I have seen in years. She would sing while my current girlfriend would play the piano. Oh man it was bonerific. I didn't even try to talk to her much due to the fact that she was way out of my league (I figured). But when her boyfriend came to visit during visiting hours, he was just a nerdy poindexter. I think she was in there for trying to commit suicide. Depression shit. That's why most people were in there.

I learned that I was on the better floor. The floor below us is where they put the really crazy fuckers who have to be sedated constantly. Our floor was just the anxiety/depression/bi-polar area. Every now and then you'd get someone put in who just went up the wall crazy. It happened 3 times. One of them wasn't even crazy, just mad. Her boyfriend had cheated on her and called to have her committed when she found out. She was just angry that she was locked into the place and started banging on the walls, kicking doors, and generally causing everyone else to be anxious. It was the only time I actually saw someone get the needle, but as soon as they hit her with it, she dropped. I learned from one of the guys in there who had the needle that when you get it, it feels like your brain is normal but your body won't respond to it. He said that you could really will yourself to do things, like walk 15 feet, but it would take an hour to accomplish. And the whole time your brain would be thinking normally and not drugged out. It was like being prisoner in a broken body. He also told me that it took about 5 days to completely wear off and that you'd be sluggish for days afterwards. Sounded like something I didn't want to have happen.

That sounds fucking horrible.

I also spent some time in a psych ward, but it was only because I acted crazy to avoid prison. There were some pretty weird people in there.

- This one guy acted holier-than-though, spoke well enough, and happened to be there voluntarily. He sorta hated his wife and found sexuality repulsive. Like GW, except kind of smart.

- A really short guy that we nicknamed linguini. He had a weird speech impediment where he'd mumble a lot, but was pretty harmless and could play cards for hours (but kept forgetting the rules).

- A taller, more abarasive guy. We got along, but he loved to get a rise out of that first guy.

- Previous guy's sidekick. Didn't say a whole lot and was kinda forgettable, but otherwise he seemed pretty normal. I heard that he recently died.

- Old guy who was always dancing around. Weird, but nice dude.

- Really young kid, spoke with a stutter, had severe mommy issues. The head nurse on our ward seemed to know him from outside the hospital.

- Big brown dude. I think he might've been native.

Lemme know if you want to know more!

zomboid for someone who seems to not like this place that much you sure do spend a lot of time around here

What makes you think that I don't like it much? In this case, I typed that while I was waiting for some water to boil. What's not to like?

Just what do you have to do to get inside? I mean, pretending to be 'crazy' to avoid prison, is that really an option? How did you manage that?

Plus, Koko, you have mentioned your problems, but it just doesn't seem like it's something that warrants medication on first glance. I am probably wrong, I'm just saying it doesn't appear that way.

Are they happy to take anyone with even a hint of depression or anxiety, or do you actually need some qualifications?

I'm asking because I honestly see this as a viable option to ever avoid prison/conscription/poverty one day. It would be good to know.

I'm assuming you've never seen a certain film staring Jack Nicholson

I'm dumb :(

a movie based on jack nicholson

She might have been given experimental surgery like they did for weapon x. Except by the vietnamese government to increase the hand job business.

:lol 10k

i never thought to pick up girls in a mental institution. they should have a dating service.
also dude be careful that bitch is prolly crazy

Having "worked" in a mental health clinic it's interested to see the look from the other side.

Then give it a link to this thread.

Hey a shaky hand girl that you get along with sounds just great compared to
preacher mans girl or the millions of other fucked up people out there.
could you imagine listening to that BS all day? but then again she might have
felt the same way about his Bible BS.
it's just too bad she didn't become a Buddhist.

and why was the preacher man in there? i mean i can see wanting to skin the bitch alive for fucking with the cat in her voodoo bullshit, but why not just lock her ass up?

:wasjoking

tell them about how you have to get the batteries for the remote at the desk since people try to eat them.

Scariest day in my life was my high school psych class field trip to Pennhurst. That place was SICK! :eek