Since I last posted I've been on a whirlwind tour of one some of Wisconsin's finest mental institutions. I'm writing this from, hopefully, my last stop on my way home.
I went on a SI bender and wound up in the ER. Of course they called the police who in turn took me to the closest state mental hospital. Three days later I was released even though I told the doctor I wasn't ready to go.
Two days after getting home I had an appointment with my psychiatrist. I'd already had two appointments with the therapist. He asked how I was doing and I told him I was having a hard time not SI but I'd went the time in the hospital and the day before without SI. I made the mistake of admitting I'd cut that day.
The moron actually expected me to sit in the waiting room, full of people, and wait for the cops to show up. That may have been better, since they came to my house and I was lead out in handcuffs, in front of the neighbors.
Needless to say, it was a long drive back to the institution. The cop didn't turn the heat on for the entire ride and my feet froze to the floor. He was a jerk about it and said he knew that happens when the floor boards are wet. My feet were wet too from having to walk in the deep snow. I went along without any fuss and couldn't understand being treated this way. He put the handcuffs on too tight too.
I was put in the behavior modification unit. It was pure hell. For the first four days I had to sit in a bare room, with only two chairs and two tables, for 14 hours a day. I was followed and watched 24 hours a day even to the bathroom, the showers, and anywhere else they told me to go, no door was ever shut. After my first shower they gave me "state clothes" to wear. Even underwear. Yuck.
At night I slept on a cot with no sheets and no pillowcase. They did give me a wool blanket. A staff member sat in a chair in the doorway watching me sleep. A waste of tax money, if you ask me. What was I going to do in a bare room with a cot bolted to the floor? The doctor said I might scratch or bite myself if I wasn't watched. I figured this was part of the "behavior modification" they were doing.
Meals were brought up in a paper sack. Since there was no utensils allowed I ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches most of the time with four ounces of juice and carrot sticks. If I ever see another carrot stick I'll scream.
No one was beaten or tied to chairs or anything like that. They were quick to hand out tranquilizers and other pills. It was, simply, degrading and dehumanizing the way you're treated. It would take me two posts to tell you about "behavior modification". It should be outlawed.
Did I mention that, while in that room, I was given pills to calm me, which made me really tired, and I had to sleep on the hard floor with a crushed up tissue box for a pillow? They claimed there was no one to watch any of us sleep during the day.
After spending the first four days in that room, crying hysterically most of the time, the county social worker was nice enough to let me have a second chance, to sign a second 90 day agreement, and let me go to the county hospital where I'm at right now. It took from the 5th of December until the 17th to be transfered. After the first four days I was let out of the room but had to follow so many rules it was mind numbing. I was so glad to be sent back to Dodge county.
This county hospital is like a hotel compared to the other. Not in the sense that it's physically better, but here I have a private room, we all do. I'm allowed my makeup, hair dryer, laptop, tv, etc. Staff is so nice I can't believe it.
I still have to take a shower with someone outside the door and they come look at us every 15 minutes. They also come every night and check me from head to toe for any new SI. No way am I going to do that and have to spend six months back in the state hospital, (that's in the agreement), under going behavior modification.
The date I can go home is still in limbo. Every time I ask I'm given a different time frame. Short term, until the meds are stable, when the situation that got me here is resolved, one month, they don't know maybe in a few weeks. It will probably be the entire 90 days.
To top this all off, my husband brought me a letter from my psychiatrist, in which he told me he couldn't be my doctor anymore. The reason was that I didn't agree with his treatment of my case. Imagine, fired by my psychiatrist because I didn't agree with him. Don't know if I should be mad or glad.
I'll never tell another mental health official about SI, ED, or anything else that may get me back to having my behavior modified. No way, no how.
Thanks for letting me vent.
