I was hospitalized for 3 days in the psychiatric ward at my local hospital. As many of you know, I was becoming completely unhinged and it took me (and my parents) time to finally admit I was really unable to help myself. I was so anxious,tense, on edge,angry and completely miserable. My parents couldn't take it anymore.

My mother made me call my therapist after I had a particularly nasty panic attack and was threatening to take my dad's car and leave. Once I had gotten a bit of my mind together, enough to dial a phone, I dialed her number at County Health and Human Services. As soon as I heard her say hello, I completely went to pieces. She tried her best to talk me down, but very little made an impact. I remember saying to her "Joan, I can't do this anymore, I feel like I'm totally losing my mind" She suggested I was overstressed with school, that I should think about taking a break from classes so I could focus on myself and my mind. I knew where she was going but was completely against the thought. She calmed me down by telling me that if I went willingly to the hospital that, I could be released in 72 hours, but if I had to be taken involuntarily, the doctors could keep me for as long as they saw fit. I reluctantly agreed.

I don't remember much of the conversation during the car ride to the hospital nor do I remember even getting out. My mother and I entered the emergency room and were greeted immediately by a woman I knew well. Carla, was one of the first people to interview me before I began therapy, she worked at the Mental health center. I don't quite remember much of what she said to me in the elevator, everything felt so very strange and unreal. I was anxious.

When the elevator opened, we entered a small off-white hallway, at the end of which are two doors and a buzzer just to the right. Our escort hit the buzzer and led me into a small room. This is where the interviews take place for all incoming people. They ask you to empty your pockets and put everything into a small plastic bin, then they take your shoes. I'm not sure why it is they take your shoes, I guess it's so you can't gather up a bunch of shoes laces to hang yourself or choke yourself. Then they hit you with about a thousand questions. "Do you wanna hurt yourself" "Are you feeling suicidal" "Are you a sexually active" Most of the questions require yes or no answer, others are based on a scale from 1-10. They put a band around my wrist with the usual information and gave me to the head psych nurse on the floor.

When I entered the social room, I saw many different faces around the room, but none were of my age group or even within range. The nurse explained that group therapy was held 3x times a day. We wake up at 7am and no one is permitted to be in their rooms alone. She tells me that showers were allowed but, if I wanted to shave I'd had to have a nurse sit and observe me so I didn't try to slit my wrists or cut myself with the razor. The only recreation were board games, TV, cards, and the 2x's a day outdoor break (supervised), but that I first had to accumulate points before I was allowed to use them. In order to accumulate those points you must take medicine, cooperate with the staff and participate in group therapy. All patients were only permitted 2 phone calls a day and only close family were allowed for visits. Anything brought in while visiting (food, drinks, clothes) had to be checked at the front desk before we were allowed to have it. I'd never been in jail, but this place felt a lot like how I'd imagine it to be.

After the tour, I asked to see my mother, but the nurse tells me she can't see me. It's funny really, you spend most of your time trying to get away from your parents and yet when hell hits or you're afraid, you look for mom to make it all better. I immediately started getting agitated again and the nurse gave me a rather hard look, warning me not to act impulsively or their would be consequences.

Group therapy wasn't very beneficial, but it was mandatory so I sat and tried to listen. I found it hard to sit still and concentrate on what the group leader was saying. 3 maybe 4 others had spoken before the lunch carts rolled in signaling the end of group therapy. I reluctantly followed far behind the others and search of a table free of people. I took my seat and just stared at the meal before me. I didn't feel much in the mood for eating.

We had to eat in 10 minute intervals. I still sat there staring off into space when the receptionist comes in the room and ask me why it is I didn't eat. I told her the food made me sick to my stomach. After calming me down a bit, she talks me into taking a few more bites. The food of course was down right disgusting. The mashed potatoes were pasty and the meat was pressed into this circular shape. I'd learn later that our meals were the same one's prepared and eaten at the jail next door.

I choked what I could down before returning to the tv area. A woman approached me to ask my name. I tell her what it is and she tells me her name is Sharon and that she's here because of her Bipolar/depression much like the majority of the floor is. The only two exceptions were, one guy who was court ordered because he had threatened to kill the man who sexually attacked his 13 year old daughter, and another guy who suffered from schizophrenia.

I slept relatively well that first night - I was exhausted. At 6am I was awakened (with a flashlight in my face!) by a tech who wanted to draw blood for a drug test, HIV test and god knows what else. 7 am rolls around and my roommate are awaken by a staffer. I put on my hospital provided flip-flops and make my way down to the dining area to pick a little box of cereal for breakfast. After breakfast, there was an hour of TV and then we had game time. It was a pretty dumb game we played with the psych tech. We had to figure out words like banana(banana split) and such, then we filled out our dinner cards for the day and formed a circle for group therapy.

It was hard for me to participate in their groups - I didn't want people in my business. They would try to draw me out with promises of points, but I didn't care. I was only going to be there for a little while longer there was no way I would accumulate enough to get outside time. After lunch, the pills came, then the psychiatrist would come in and see so many people in the day for a half hour or so. A lot of things were discussed, none of which I will say.

Day two is much like my first official day, but I notice a new face in the crowd. I don't quite recall what the woman's name was, but I was told they had brought her in the night from another hospital. I was told she had a problem with her temper and experienced many explosive tantrums. I admit, it made me feel very unsure about how much contact I wanted to have with her, but as I came into conversations with her, I realized my fears were overblown. She was a really nice lady.

Day 3 was much like Day 2 and Day1......

Then, freedom! My 72 hours were up and as crazy as it sounds to me, I couldn't wait until I got home. The doctors and nurses tried to persuade me to stay longer, but I refused. They felt I needed more care, I know it probably would have helped, but I was afraid I'd miss too much school. And I missed my friends.

So I signed out against medical advice. I met with a doctor yesterday at the UWM Student Health department. She is following up with my outpatient treatment until my parents (and doctor) feel that my Bipolar symptoms have stabilized and the anger issues have subsided. While in the hospital, my medications were not changed...which I was so happy about. I'll be returning to my classes tomorrow - kind of worried, but mostly excited.

It was a long and stressful weekend, but nothing in comparison to what happened on the East Coast with Hurricane Sandy...hope everyone who lives out there are safe.

Thanks again for the supportive comments on my last post - really appreciated them! :)