The Psych Ward Experience

Due to my mental illnesses, I have been in three psychiatric wards in the hospital. One was in Mattoon, Illinois that I stayed once, the other is Centralia, Illinois where I stayed once, and the third I stayed in several times in Harrisburg, Illinois. Mental illness can be a pain in the butt if you are not on the right medications. I have spent almost 10 years in and our of psych wards, and there were reasons that brought me there. The main reason I went to psychiatric wards in hospitals was because I needed to be on medications and get them regulated. I was put under medication observance, most of the time I have been in them.

I was in my early twenties the first time I went to a psychiatric ward. It was at Sarah Bush Lincoln hospital in Mattoon, Illinois. When I was 14, my mental illnesses started to come to surface, but I ignored them through years of self-help and drug use. In my twenties, is when the illnesses came to surface. Being in an abusive relationship didn’t help, and neither did my drug use. What brought me to Mattoon the first time was when I left my abusive boyfriend, for the fifth time, and went to live with someone. I started using crystal meth as an escape from my pain and problems. I have used crystal meth before on one occasion, but I was abusing meth on and off throughout this relationship because it was the only way I could cope with the abusive boyfriend, not to mention marijuana was a great plus too. One night, I knew there was trouble brewing over at this person’s trailer I was staying in, and I was seeing some guy who got mad because my abusive boyfriend shows up accusing me of taking this engagement ring he gave me and pawning it off for drugs. I told him on several occasions that I did not take that ring, and I didn’t, but it made the guy I was seeing mad, so I left back to the abusive boyfriend. I remember running to him with no shoes on, mentally incoherent, throwing up bodily poisons from the drugs, and he let me in. My mood wasn’t any better because he was running his mouth while I was coming down from the drugs, and it doesn’t put you in a good mood. So I decided I had enough, and decided to cut my arm with my abusive boyfriend’s razor because I was trying to kill all the pain and torment I was suffering from the inside. The abusive boyfriend didn’t do anything, just watched me do it. He was encouraging me to do it. One day later, me and the abusive boyfriend decided not to get back together until I got some help. So, I called my parents and went home to live with them. When they heard the story of what I had done to my arm, they found a psychiatric ward in Mattoon and suggested I need to get help and be put on medications. I arrived at the emergency room in Mattoon waiting for the psychiatrist to admit me, and noticing all the signs and the moods, he admitted me right away. I remember I had to be searched and walked with a security guard to the psychiatric ward, it is just procedure. They searched me up and down and found nothing. The first night was a nightmare, nothing to get you to sleep, and meeting people who are a lot more worse than me. I went inside their smoking room, because you got to have a cigarette every 2 hours, and met one man who was mentally slow and peed himself all the time, another man who just got out of his marriage and was having delusional, paranoid thoughts, and a woman who had cuts all up and down her arms and legs. She looked at my scar from the slashing, and tells me she had me beat. Like, I was in competition with her to see who has the most scars. The second day, I seen the doctor, and they put me on some strong medications because I remember the first night. I was bumping into walls, sleeping a lot, and totally sedated. I was calm, not high strung at all, and my moods were improving. There was a lot of group therapy and individual doctor visits, but they kept me in Mattoon for 6 days, and I was released with new medications. For a couple of months or so, I was doing alright until me and the abusive boyfriend got back together, and went back to my drug use while on these medications. The world started to spin before me, I didn’t know whether I was coming or going, and the boyfriend would get meaner and meaner. Finally, one day, he had me so mentally worn down that I had no choice but to leave him permanently. I finally did and found a new doctor. For 2 years, after me and the abusive boyfriend split up, I met a doctor who put me on at least 8 or 9 different medications. I was so over-medicated that I couldn’t talk to anyone, slept most of the time, wet the bed, and kept falling down, not walking real much. When I fell down for the last time, I quit all the medications cold turkey, and tried to figure out my next step. I was out of medications for months after that.

When I quit the medications cold turkey, I met a man that I was seeing. I really liked him, but other things were going on with me that I can’t discuss at the same time. I really believed he was my rock, and that he was going to be there for me. Well, all I was to him was a friend with benefit deal, his mother hated me, and he is a thief. His mother pretty much was the reason why we called it off, but I think he made that choice too. Being off the medications, drug use again, and dealing with the incident that was continuing, I snapped. I went to my apartment with a bottle of Jim Beam and drank a few shots. Then the thoughts were occurring. It was no point of me living anymore because I was alone, had no friends, no lover, noone. I was alone in this battle, and I could not deal with being alone. So I call my sister and tell her that it is time for me to go if I don’t get any help. My sister phoned my mom and my oldest sister, and they both took me to an emergency room in the town I was living in. I was mean, hateful, and in denial with the counselor, but truth be known I needed help. So, they sent me to St. Mary’s Hospital in Centralia, Illinois. The first night again, was a nightmare, but once I seen the doctor, he put me on some new meds. I was there for 6 days again monitoring my medications, and they released me. I didn’t move back to Vandalia. The family decided it would be best if I went to a group home. The closest group home I have been to was in Benton, Illinois. I couldn’t be alone and had to learn to live independently being as sick as I was.

When I lived at the group home, I visited The Mulberry Center in Harrisburg, Illinois due to a breakdown of agoraphobic symptoms. I saw a huge crowd of people at a circus and freaked out. I was in there for four days just so they would readjust my medications. Freaking out in front of a crowd of people is embarrassing, but they calmed me down and I was on new medications. I have been the drug companies lab rat for years as far as psychotropic medications were concerned. I never went to another psych ward until I moved in with my ex husband, boyfriend at the time. I kept having panic attacks, I would do things I normally wouldn’t do, and my mind was slipping, and I was having relationship problems with my ex husband, so I went off the deep end and sunk into a low depression where I didn’t feel like living anymore. Again, I was back at the Mulberry Center for four days to monitor and change my medications. I was doing good for a year, and the last two final times I went was because I was going crazy again. Mind you, I have been clean off crystal meth and cocaine for over 6 years, and not smoking pot nowhere near as much, so my illnesses was not drug induced. I have problems dealing with stress and emotions.

Being in a psychiatric ward is no easy ride. You have to take your medications, attend group therapies, make crafts, eat, etc. You just don’t sit on your butt in them places. They get you going to get you in touch with your feelings, making sure your medications are working, diagnose you with something else, and some play time. Some people I met in there were like me, just having difficulty with handling stress and their emotions, could be drug induced as well, and there are those who were worse off. Some didn’t even know what was going on, what their names were, and difficult behavior to the point of disturbing, and that is when the doctor can put you in the state hospital for long term observation.