970x125
A psychiatric unit is critical and essential when someone is so ill that they are not safe from themselves, and I am thankful that I was able to stay in one during the height of my acute psychotic episodes. Being there saved me from making costly mistakes when I had absolutely no control over my judgment and poor decision-making, and was caught up in a completely delusional reality. I was also safe from getting hurt or killed. It provided a location for medical care where I received antipsychotics that would stabilize me. So, in that sense, I am very thankful.
My experiences there were also very emotional and, at times, painful and traumatizing. My experiences there all occurred through the lens of a completely different reality my brain created, yet this reality clashed with everyone around me. Living in a different reality with terrifying delusions and hallucinations, especially when medical professionals have to confront you in order for you to receive treatment, can be very difficult. Some people don’t remember their inpatient stay, but I remember everything, just as I do any other event in my life. So, I must process and come to terms with experiences that not many share or talk about.
Sense of Shame and Embarrassment
I think the first time I was admitted through the ER, I was too psychotic to grasp where I was going or have a specific reaction or emotion about it. It was when I left the unit and came home that the shame, guilt, and residual trauma about the experience set in. It’s painful in the sense that the people in the unit see you on the worst days of your life, the days where you are least able to communicate who you really are, which are days you would do anything to forget, or, even better, if they could have never happened. They were unable to see the real me, essentially, when I wished they could have.
I remember after that first inpatient stay, keeping that experience as secret as a scandalous skeleton in my closet. I have always been a very self-conscious person, serious, easily embarrassed, who never breaks rules, so not being in control of myself or how other people see and perceive me was devastating.
For my second and third stays at the inpatient unit, I did have an opinion when being admitted to the unit. I felt like I was going right back to square one, like I had personally failed and was going back to where I had started from. All my unprocessed emotions and trauma from my earlier stays resurfaced as I came back.
Losing the Sense of Autonomy
The basic right I felt I lost was a degree of autonomy. It is unnerving to be somewhere and not be allowed to leave, and it is unsettling to feel like people you just met, who have just met you, have been granted the power to choose what is next for your life.
Navigating a catastrophic medical condition like psychosis, which can involve terrifying hallucinations and delusions, is even more daunting when coupled with trying to convince people at the same time who have so much power over you that you are recovering enough not to be sent to a state hospital. It feels like a simultaneous race for the antipsychotics to work and a race to demonstrate to the doctors that you are okay within the time span you are permitted to remain in the emergency unit. The entire experience is unnerving and stressful, and the stakes could not be higher.
Communicating and Sharing These Experiences
For me, personally, I have learned that all my thoughts, feelings, and memories of the unit experiences feel and seem a great deal worse in my head than when I verbalize them to others or write them down. The tendency is to keep everything to yourself, as it seems so unusual, regrettable, and like something that no one else could possibly understand. You also would like to forget, so telling others is another way for these experiences to keep existing instead of going away. You think the memory will go away faster if you never speak of it again.
Finding a Support Group
It also depends on who you share your experiences with. I have found great healing through being part of a support group for people living with serious mental illness, where many support group members have had psychotic breaks.
My favorite breakout session ever, out of weekly sessions spanning several years, was when we all went around and described our most outlandish delusions and hallucinations. All of a sudden, when I told the group about memories I had never dared share with anyone else, it didn’t seem so unusual, so wrong, or something to keep hidden. I thought no one could know about these things, but then they did, and all of a sudden, these memories and emotions had less of a hold on me. By disclosure, these memories lost their power and hold over how I feel about myself.
Sharing With a Loved One
Sometimes sharing these experiences can be meaningful with a significant other or loved one. I know for me, feeling like I had something to hide, something that my significant other couldn’t know about, put a wall between us without my meaning to or realizing it. It is a sign that someone is special if you desire to share information and feelings with that person that really matter to you. Part of knowing you are loved and accepted is the feeling that you have nothing to hide that would change someone else’s mind about you. I’m glad I’ve shared everything with my husband, as I’d rather be loved along with my imperfections and not feel like I have anything to hide.
Psychosis Essential Reads
Finding a Therapist
I have benefited from being in a support group, disclosing to loved ones, and working with a therapist. I have found eye movement desensitization reprocessing (EMDR) therapy particularly helpful over the past four years. I have specifically addressed the traumas I experienced in the unit through EMDR therapy and have made remarkable improvements. The traumas are chiefly related to the delusions and hallucinations themselves that I experienced while in the unit, where the unit was the backdrop and sometimes a factor in my memories.
My experiences and memories in the unit had such a power over me that I internalized a lot of these emotions and let them shape how I feel about myself. However, through verbalizing or writing down what you think has to remain the ultimate secret, you set yourself free and realize you can come closer to accepting what happened. You also realize that none of it is a reflection on you.
To find a therapist near you, visit the Psychology Today Therapy Directory.
