Hey guys, it's Celestia, and today's storytime is not one that I ever expected to make. I've talked
about my experiences in psych wards in a past storytime video, but while there were a great deal
of problems, I've never dealt with anything nearly as bad as what I'm gonna talk about today. What I
went through last week - or at least last week as of recording this - goes far beyond what I ever thought
I'd be talking about, but it certainly shows me that the fact that this isn't even unheard of
in the system means it's something that should be talked about way more than it is. Before I do talk
about it, though, trigger warnings. In this video, I will be discussing alcohol, suicidal thoughts,
a suicide attempt, psychosis and hallucinations, physical and verbal abuse, gaslighting, and use
of restraints. If any of those topics bother you, please click away from this video now.
Anyway, the other part of the reason that I wasn't expecting to make a storytime like this is
because I thought my time dealing with psych wards was over. It's been a long time since I was last
inpatient for mental health reasons, and while I haven't been in the best state of mind since then,
I've still been much better than I was when I was last admitted. But as my physical health continues
to decline, the pandemic continues to steal more of what are supposed to be the best years of my
life with no end in sight, and my finances continue to deteriorate into what is now a pretty hopeless
state of affairs, it's safe to say that things have gotten quite a bit worse. I don't want to
go into too much detail about my mental health or how I'm handling things, but there are some facts
that I do have to include for context, so while I'd rather not elaborate on any of the things
I'm dealing with mental health-wise, I will say that I have been dealing with suicidal thoughts
since August of 2021, and I did make an attempt on my life in early September. I was hospitalized
overnight after that attempt, but I was not admitted to the hospital psychiatric unit because,
in all honesty, I'm pretty goddamn good at talking my way out of things, and I didn't WANT to be
admitted. It helps that hospitals don't really want to admit patients to psych wards anyway,
because they never have enough beds, and they don't want people staying there -
they want them discharged as quickly as possible. It's a problem I talked a lot
more about in my other video, but essentially, it means that it's not hard to talk your way out
of being admitted even after you're already in the hospital on a psych hold, because they WANT
you to say that you're fine, and they'll pretty much take your word for it as a result of that.
It's a broken system, it's horrible, and I would never recommend lying to them like I have, but it
needs to be established that that IS the way it is. Anyway, point is, after that attempt, I was released,
and for a few months, I tried very hard to get my sh*t together mentally. I talked to my therapist
and my partner and some family members, and a strong effort was made to avoid it happening again.
Things started looking up and my mental health started improving, but in mid-December of 2021,
a crisis occurred that resulted in me pretty much ending up back at square one, probably worse off
than I was in September. And things never really got better from there, they just kept getting
worse. And I kept denying it and pretending that everything was fine, because that was the only
way I could really keep going. Of course, that's not exactly recommended, because it's not sustainable,
and it makes things worse long-term, which is what happened. And last week as of scripting
and recording, I ended up back in the emergency room for similar reasons. This time, though, I also
happened to be blackout drunk and hallucinating. I've dealt with psychosis since I was around 12
or 13, and during periods of heavy stress, it tends to get worse. And on this particular night, it had
gotten a lot worse. I don't want to go into detail about what exactly I was hearing and seeing, but
the bottom line that's relevant to this story is that I was hearing one voice in particular that
was giving me commands and convincing me that what was happening wasn't real. At one point, I
apparently just started screaming at the top of my lungs, and while I don't remember what I heard
or saw that made that happen, I know that it resulted in the police and an ambulance being
called. Which brings us essentially to where the story actually takes place, because after whatever
I said to the paramedics, they were convinced that I was a danger to myself, and put me on a
psych hold and brought me to the emergency room. And the emergency room is where things got really messed
up. See, I was open with them about not knowing what was happening for the entire time. I was
drunk enough to not really have a choice in how honest I was being, because screening my thoughts
before they turned into words wasn't something I could really do. As such, all of the security
guards and nurses were fully aware that I was very intoxicated and experiencing hallucinations
and derealization so severe that I didn't know where I was or what was happening. I mention this
because the way they treated me while knowing that was absolutely unacceptable in every way.
To be clear, throughout the entire duration of my psych hold, I was cooperative and non-violent. I
didn't physically resist, I didn't attack anyone. I wasn't the ideal patient, which I'll get into, but I
made absolutely no attempt to hurt anyone or fight back. The fact that fighting back was something I
was in a position to do at all is a problem in and of itself, but again, we'll get into that. Anyway, for
the first while, everything was fine, which was because I was compliant. I stayed in my bed, I did
what I was told, and I followed instructions, and everyone was nice enough to me for as long as that
was the case. But I was drunk and hallucinating and terrified, and I didn't know where I was,
and eventually, that resulted in me leaving my bed and trying to run away from the hospital. I don't
actually remember my first attempt to run away very well, but I remember it not being particularly
hard, because they had already released me from my restraints because I was being so compliant.
I pretty much just walked out of my room and tried to leave, but as a very drunk idiot, I did not get
very far, because I was both not fast and not inconspicuous. I probably could have passed it off
as me being lost and confused if I hadn't started sprinting when security found me, but again, drunk
idiot. Anyway, when security cut me off, they decided that because I had tried to escape, it would be
fine to shove me down to the ground so hard that I remember I landed on my knees so roughly that
I couldn't feel my legs below my knees for a good 10 minutes after the impact. Then they brought me
back to my room and restrained my wrists to the bed again. This was already bad enough because
yeah, I was dumb and I ran and I shouldn't have done that, but I was a tiny, unarmed, non-violent
woman who was running because a voice told her to and she was f*cking scared, and they were six
armed security guards that were much faster and stronger. They did not need to hurt me, I wasn't
running from them, they had me cornered, and I had stopped moving. They chose to hurt me because they
could. But anyway, back in my room, the nurse decided to then spend 15 minutes or so lecturing me on how
this won't help me get home any sooner, and how I'm being very childish and disrespectful. I try
to tell her that I'm sorry and that I was scared and I didn't know where I was and I just wanted
to get out and go home, and that the voice that I was hearing told me to run. She then proceeds to
tell me that I DO know where I am because she told me, as had many other nurses and guards before then,
and that no one who's hallucinating knows they're hallucinating. And, like, number one: I was so drunk
that saying "we told you where you are" has no meaning. I was blackout drunk. My memory was gone.
I did not remember any of that, because I didn't remember what happened one minute ago, and my brain
was convincing me that none of what was happening anyway was even real. And number two, you don't ever
get to tell someone dealing with psychosis that they're not hallucinating because if they were,
they wouldn't know. Not only is that objectively, factually untrue, as it is well documented that
many, many people suffering from psychosis are self-aware enough to know it's psychosis,
and clearly this nurse just didn't know anything about psychology or just didn't care, but I don't
have the words to explain how deeply f*cked up it is to tell someone who can't tell what's real
that they aren't hallucinating. First of all, don't tell me what I'm experiencing. I've been dealing
with psychosis for over a decade, and I know how to tell what it's like by now. Just because I
recognize that it's a voice in my head doesn't mean I don't still feel like and believe that
it's real and that I should listen to it. Second of all, I didn't think anything was real. I was
scared, confused, alone, and derealizing. Having this woman tell me with confidence and authority that
I was not experiencing what I was experiencing actually made me question reality even more.
I spent a long time crying in that bed because I didn't know if my hallucinations were real, if the
hospital was real, if the nurse was real, and none of that was that bad before she decided to take a
person with a fragile mental state and break that mental state into pieces because she was annoyed
that I tried to run away out of fear. So because of that, when that same voice told me to run again,
I listened. I couldn't tell what was real, I can't reiterate that enough, and I couldn't tell
what would have consequences. I couldn't even really remember trying to run in the first place.
I just knew that my whole body hurt because of what they did, that I was scared, and that I wanted
to go home where I would be safe. So after enough struggling, I managed to get one hand out of my
restraints, which I used to get the other one out, and then I waited until I didn't see the guards
anymore, and took off. This time, I didn't bother trying to pretend I was just a normal patient
going to the bathroom or something, I just started running. Which was a mistake, because I'm a person
who's anemic and underweight, so after running for about five or ten whole seconds, I couldn't feel my
legs anymore, and when I reached a door that was locked and realized I was effectively at a dead
end, I decided to just lay down on the floor and give up so that I wouldn't fall, because my legs
already hurt a lot, and I didn't want them to hurt more if I did fall. Eventually, security came, they
held me down very roughly on the ground while they handcuffed me, and then they basically dragged me
back into my room where they all but threw me onto the bed. Three of them held me down so hard that I
have bruises in the shapes of their fingers on both of my shoulders right now and a bruise on
the back of my head from where they slammed my head into the bars of my bed. That wasn't fully
their fault, because in fairness, I was trying to get away at that point, and they were just trying
to push my head onto my pillow and missed because I was moving, but again, I am one small, drunk woman
against three security guards, and they could have restrained me without literally shoving me into
this bed with the force of three grown men. And I know that, because they had me restrained up until
that point on the way back to my bed just fine. They chose to be that rough about pushing me down
again because they were mad. Then they strapped my wrists, feet, and upper arms down to the bed. I told
them it was too tight and I couldn't feel my arms, they told me I should have thought of that before
I ran. I told them I had to go to the bathroom, they told me I should have thought of that before I ran.
I begged them, told them I would let them watch me use the bathroom to make sure I didn't run,
and one of them outright said "no, pee in your bed for all I care", and then they left. And I was just
laying there, crying, because my head hurt, my legs hurt, I was terrified, and I couldn't feel my arms.
And that's when the same nurse from before legitimately started shit-talking me to the guards.
She told them I clearly did it for attention because she watched me on the cameras and I didn't
fall, I just put myself on the ground. I called out from my room and told her it was because
I couldn't feel my legs and I didn't want to fall and also had never even claimed to have fallen, but
she told me to save it, lay down, and be quiet. And then continued to insult me to these guards after
I had just made it clear to her that I could hear her. So on top of everything, I had to listen to
this horrible excuse for a woman spend 10 minutes talking about how I'm lying about hallucinating,
I'm here to get attention, and that they shouldn't "fall for my tears". Even after the guards left, she
told the same sh*t to the next nurses that came on shift that she was switching with. At some point
during her shift, I also remember her asking me if I consented to her giving me Ativan through the IV
that I also hadn't consented to having put in in the first place, and I told her no. Then she
told me that because I tried to run, she didn't need my consent anymore, and gave it to me anyway.
So now I'm drunk, hallucinating, confused, AND sedated. This woman clearly just wanted to rub
in the fact that I had no control over my own body. She could have just said "hey, you've given
up your right to refuse this Ativan," but she chose to ask for my consent only to disregard my lack
of willingness to give it. Eventually, more guards came and took me on my stretcher to the mental
health unit, where an actual psych nurse explained where I was. She told me that the unit was locked
so that there was nowhere for me to run, but that she wanted to help me as best as she could.
She was kind, patient, and reassured me rather than insulting me or abusing me, and that was all I
needed to not try to run every time I was scared and forgot where I was or what was happening or
was hearing things I couldn't handle. She would reassure me and help me, she let me out of my
restraints to go to the bathroom, she got me water and warm blankets, and she bundled me up in my room.
She talked to me like a human being, and when I told her everything that happened to me
up until that point, she comforted me and stayed with me and told me that she was so sorry, and that
it wasn't okay. And I think that says a lot about the whole situation - the fact that every problem I
caused could have been avoided by one nurse like her that understood psychiatric issues and showed
actual compassion and kindness and basic human decency makes me want to cry, because I know there
are people who have had it a lot worse. ER nurses and security guards should have at least some kind
of education when it comes to mental health issues, and before that night, I didn't realize just how
bad it was, because I had never been that bad. I had never experienced psychosis that severe while in
a hospital, so I had always been compliant and had therefore never seen the uglier side of emergency
room staff's treatment of psychiatric patients. But even then, even when I was that bad, the worst thing
I did was run. I didn't try to attack security even when they caught me, I didn't fight back when they
pushed me down and hit me, the only thing I did was run. And running was all it took for me to come
home from that hospital visit covered in bruises on my knees, arms, shoulder, head, and tailbone, with
pain coming from every movement. Because that's how poorly equipped emergency room staff are to
handle psychiatric patients, and that's how easily they can abuse their power over helpless patients
with absolutely no consequences. I even looked into reporting them, but was told that there was
nothing I could do, because the moment I tried to escape, I gave up all my rights, and I can't prove
that they exerted any more force than they had to. So that's it. Everyone in that hospital will go on
continuing to treat patients like that, facing no consequences for it, and that's terrifying.
Even now that I'm safe in my home and recovering, I am terrified, because I know that that's still
happening to patients like me. Now I know that the system would sooner abuse someone suffering from
psychosis than help them, and where are people like me supposed to go for help in those situations if
not the hospital, the one place that's supposed to help? Now I have to try to sleep at night knowing
that there really is no safe place for mentally ill people if they show the slightest resistance
to what they're told to do, no matter why they're resisting. Now I know that when I'm terrified and
don't know what's happening, the only system that's supposed to help me is more inclined
to take advantage of that and use it to hurt me, and I don't know how to handle that. And I guess
that's why I'm making this video. I'm doing better now. 'm safe and with my partner, and trying to get
a handle on my mental health. I'm okay, and I'm not in that place anymore, but it's not because of any
help I got from the hospital, it's despite what they put me through. Now I have to live my life
knowing that if I'm ever in that bad place again, I don't know where to turn. I don't think I HAVE
anywhere to turn where I'd actually be safe, and something needs to be done about that, because
it's not okay. Hospitals should be safe places for mentally ill people to go when they're in a crisis,
not somewhere they should be rightfully afraid of mistreatment from. This is a f*cking problem, and I
don't know where I can even start to try to fix it. The only thing I can think to do right now is try
to raise awareness that this is happening. Sorry this storytime wasn't a fun one - I seem to be giving
you guys a lot of not-fun storytimes lately, but as soon as not-fun things stop happening, I'll stop
talking about it. In the meantime, I'll be back with regularly scheduled art content next week,
and I hope that if nothing else, this video brings a little more awareness to the kind
of treatment that psychiatric patients receive in emergency rooms before they're brought to
actual psychiatric units with staff that are equipped to help them. And maybe if someone out
there is an emergency room employee and they're hearing, this they'll think twice about the way
they decide to treat their patients. Thank you for listening, and I'll see you in my next video.