8 minute read
Psych Ward Deceptions
WORDS & ILLUSTRATION BY Lukas Zehetner
This story contains themes of mental health and involuntary commitment.
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Are mental hospitals actually doing more harm than good to their patients in need?
After experiencing a mental hospital firsthand, along with looking into surveys and research from professional sources, there is more evidence pointing to the negative.
After being discharged, the negative stereotypes surrounding psych wards have become more apparent and need to be corrected in today’s society.
Mental hospitals, often referred to as psychiatric wards, are facilities made to better patients who are struggling heavily with their mental health. Their purpose is to take time away from one’s overwhelming life situations to focus on well-being and coping mechanisms. Although this is the case for some mental hospitals, the majority do more harm than good.
Currently, the shortest stay is around one week, and this can increase depending on the patient’s situation.
These hospitals are supposed to be a place of healing. Many patients who are admitted, willingly or not, come out in a worse state than before and are treated differently due to stereotypes created by society. These harmful stereotypes are seen across all types of media, even in children's shows.
I put together a short survey to observe how others viewed mental hospitals, the types of media they’ve seen and personal experiences. The individuals are all between the ages of 16 and 22. I posed the question, “When was the last time you saw a psychiatric ward represented in media?”
Many individuals mentioned “American Horror Story,” a popular anthology horror series, which featured mentally insane characters portrayed in strait-jackets along with an unhygienic environment and uneducated staff.
Many also mentioned South Park, an adult comedy. Psychiatric wards have been mentioned twice in the entire series, both instances including insanity and isolation.
Overall, the participants talked about the negative representation seen in media.
One individual mentioned television shows “showing people as dramatically ‘insane’ rather than realistically mentally ill.”
I then asked what imagery came to mind when hearing “psychiatric ward.” Many responses included lack of color, restrictions and hospital-type settings.
There were some positive responses, with one participant writing, “I think of it as a safe place,” but overall, the imagery was negative.
Another important piece of research I found was experiences from other individuals, all that were admitted to different mental hospitals around the country.
Out of my 18 participants, nine have experienced this environment before. Five of these people mentioned having a negative experience, while one mentioned feeling neutral on the subject.
One response in particular read, “There’s good staff and bad staff. The last time I went, I had pretty decent nurses. But the bad staff can treat you like you’re stupid. I also feel like they over medicate you.”
Although not all of my participants had been in this situation, six of them had considered admitting themselves or felt as if they should go for their own safety.
The last question I asked was why these individuals didn’t end up admitting themselves. Many responses included fear of judgment, cost and the environment itself.
One response that stuck out read,
After gathering input, it's clear that many psychiatric wards and the stigma around them are not a safe place for the people that need them most.
When thinking about my own firsthand experience, it directly contradicts what mental hospitals are supposed to stand for. I was admitted unwillingly due to a pink slip on Feb. 15, 2022. In simple terms, pink
slips mean a person is to legally be held for at least 72 hours as they cannot keep themselves safe.
My 72 hours didn’t count until I arrived at the psychiatric ward, even though I was held at a hospital and Coleman’s, a mental health facility, for the entire day.
During my stay at Coleman’s, they had all doors locked. The only freedoms I had were to either go to a small outside area surrounded by a tall fence to smoke cigarettes or the vending machine down the hall from my room.
I made phone calls to my friends and parents to let them know the situation, so I wouldn’t disappear with no trace.
After waiting around 14 hours in total, an ambulance arrived at Coleman’s around 2 a.m. The paramedics strapped me into a stretcher all the way from my feet to my shoulders and drove me an hour away from where I was held. I arrived at the psychiatric ward at around 3 a.m. and had to immediately give up all my belongings, including my shoes and pants.
I followed a nurse to the area where I would spend the next week. The nurse asked me questions and made me point out all my scars to mark down on a piece of paper.
I was soon put into a bedroom with a woman sleeping next to an empty bed. She woke me up around 7 a.m. for breakfast. I ate rubbery eggs and cold toast alone and soon after, met some of the other patients.
The staff immediately put me on Abilify, an anti-psychotic medication that wasn’t appropriate for my illness.
The medication took all of my energy, heavily blurred my vision which led to dissociation and made me lose my appetite.
Throughout my stay, I was discriminated against for being transgender by some nurses and patients, and even had to sleep in a room infested with ants as they couldn’t room me with any cis patients.
Another uncomfortable situation I had to endure was some of the older male patients sexualizing me and making inappropriate remarks.
The days went by slowly.
We tried to keep ourselves busy with coloring books, board games and movies. None of the patients received therapy and only had the chance to talk to the doctor for a couple minutes on weekdays only.
One of the more frustrating aspects was that none of us were told any information relevant to our situation or discharge days. Many lost patience and had violent outbursts, attempted escapes and screaming fits.
During my time there, I wasn’t able to go outside or do any physical activity, which left me feeling drained.
After what felt like the longest week of my life, I was finally discharged.
Even though that week is over, I still have nightmares and panic attacks due to my experiences.
Overall, the most painful part of my experience was what I put my mother through. I still vividly remember the phone call I had with her before being taken to the psychiatric ward.
Being someone who tries to hide their mental illness, I felt my heart stop for a moment when my mother told me, “They told me you want to hurt yourself.”
Even to the present day, I still feel an overwhelming anxiety when expressing negative emotions.
What can be done to alter the harmful stereotypes planted in everyone’s minds? The hard truth is, people will always think of these stereotypes. It’s hard to change the mindset people have had for so long.
What we can do is put in the effort to raise awareness of these damaging environments.
Different media will continue to produce content contradicting the truth, so the most we can do is educate people on the matter.
We can still enjoy our favorite shows and movies, as long as we have the ability to acknowledge some of these situations are fake and purely for enjoyment.
General Resources:
SAMHSA’s National Helpline: 1-800-662-HELP (4357)
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-TALK (8255)
Crisis Text Line: Text “HELLO” to 741741
Kent State Resources:
The Counseling Center at White Hall: 330-672-2208
Counseling and Psychological Services (CAPS): 330-672-2487 or at kent.edu.caps
Audacious Grace
WORDS BY Sara Evelyne
When is the last time that you stood in the darkness, the stillness of it all, And felt the strength of your vulnerability? When was the last time that you held space for your tears, and the sobs that echo through the night? Has fear stolen your power? Your voice?
The woman inside me cries for the child I still am While the child inside me mourns for the woman I should be. I question my power. Do I have any?
Perplexed by my intensity and innately vulnerable spirit, I often wonder if I am the light or the darkness. I hold space for them both. My heart calling and reaching out To the women, The children, The unheard, The crying, The wounded.
Grace becomes gratitude, and as my strength grows, I harness my power.
My light grows stronger within me. The space around me filled the darkness with compassion and sensitivity. I hear your tears, though silent as they fall. I see your cries as they pierce time and vibrate through the air. Ripples everywhere. Catch and release. Holding and letting go. Strength in the fire. Love in the darkness. And a vulnerable open heart to hold both at my center.
To share your pain and your courage To hear your story To facilitate and add to your hope And I, too, share in your courage Our tears blend, our stories merge Our power grows, and In the darkness, we see our strength.
When was the last time that you stood in the darkness, In the stillness of it all, And didn’t feel alone?
The woman inside of me calls to the parts inside of you, Hold space for your power Believe.
Embrace your vulnerability. The space Of expression, Your strength It isn’t as far as you think.
Sometimes our power comes from the darkness. More often than not, Perhaps our strength comes from knowing we are more.
God’s Creation
PHOTOS BY Madison Swartzentruber
