I was ‘voluntarily’ comitted to a psych hospital (UK) about 6yrs ago. I was a recovering heroin addict with a daily pickup prescription of bupronorphine at the time. It took 3 days of begging nurses to fetch/check my prescription requirements before they arrived. By the time they did I was crawling to the fucking medical room to take my tablet.

The nurse exclaimed: “Oh WOW! I’ve never seen someone change so quickly!”

It got worse…I was comitted to a hospital in a neighbouring NHS Trust rather than my local one due to bed limitations. This meant two things:

1. My psychiatrist was on annual leave and couldn’t come to see me in the legally established 2 day maximum wait.
2. No other psychiatrist in that Trust could evaluate me as I was an outside patient.

This meant I was trapped for 7 days when in reality I should have only had to spend 2 days maximum. After 7 days another problem was manifesting. My severe addiction to pregabalin. As the pregabalin in my system wore off I began to experience hallucinations and delusions. So the hospital stay was making me more insane. My bed was a hard wooden block with a faux-leather mattress and sheets on top. It started to melt and hands would grab and punch at me. I paced the corridors listening to the voices of people who didn’t exist.

I tried explaining all this to the nurses but as anyone who’s been to a mental hospital knows they take anything you say with a pinch of salt. So they ignored my deterioration and doctors still refused to even see me.

On the 7th day the delusions and psychosis were so bad I was taking instructions from ‘Wall People’ who told me the ‘Magic Formula to Escape’ was to speak to the “Queen Nurse” and ask to be “released against medical advice”.

When I uttered those words a magical thing happened - a doctor appeared with a sheet of paper. He asked some questions, never once giving me eye contact, and filled in his form. All the time this was happening I was seeing wall people trying to bust through the wall to grab me while I ‘heard’ other patients baying for my blood in the corridor outside.

The form complete I was let out of the front door and given my wallet and keys.

The bus then train home was a nightmare-fuelled Mad Max-like journey with people attacking me and shouting at me. When I got home I immediately ducked into my car and grabbed my pregabalin. Ate a bunch and 20mins later - swoosh - I was sane.

It was the hardest, most horrific shit I’ve ever gone through and scars me to this day. I’m clean now but I’ve always told doctors and psychiatrists that if I’m suicidal I’d never tell them because I’d sooner die than be hospitalised. Then they utter the usual phrase “are you a risk to yourself or anyone else”. Knowing full well I’m suicidal I say “No, absolutely not”.

Going in-patient saved my life, but it did not cure it. It armed me for the war I would fight with myself on the path to healing, but did little to support it long-term. It is an effective stop-gap, but should be considered only the beginning of the journey, as continued work and treatment (for potentially very long after) may be on the menu.

A good therapist will help you to find reasons to and ways to deal with your problems. A mental institution provides a place for people who are a danger to themselves or others to get mental health treatment.

I’m sorry if my story is offputting, but it’s the truth. I’ve been in touch with the system multiple times, and I was always cooperative and complacent. Aggression doesn’t figure into it. But in my experience, people who genuinely wanted to help were extremely few and far between, and the others were never shy to use their power over me to my detriment.

As for how society itself treats you once they know you’ve been inside… Oof.

I’m 100% convinced that if I hadn’t gone through the system, I would now either be dead or much better off and at this point I would have preferred death. Sure, I’m alive, but only because the people I love would be devastated if I was gone. I don’t live for myself, couldn’t care less about it.

Again, sorry if that’s not what people want to hear, but it’s the sipmle, sad truth. If that kind of truth is unwanted, feel free to ban me. Never been banned on Lemmy before but there’s gotta be a first time for everything, right?

In practice, you will essentially be a prisoner only allowed to leave at the physician’s permission.

In addition you will learn to say what they want to hear, regardless of how you really feel, because from the nurses up to the management, not a single soul will give even the slightest hint of a flyng fuck about you as a person.

If you finally do get out and carry some extra trauma instead of solutions, you get rejected from jobs for it - or worse, if you end up in a bad divorce or other legal issues, THAT HISTORY CAN AND WILL BE USED AGAINST YOU.

YMMV but I can’t disrecommend this enough.

I see you’re getting a lot of answers from both sides of the spectrum. But if you’re struggling, I want to help.

Being in a behavior health ward is good for when you can’t help yourself anymore, or need significant treatment that’s difficult to handle via outpatient (like electroconvulsive treatments). It’s not like a hospital stay where you walk out cured of some infection. It’s more like a stay in the hospital after a huge car accident. They’ll get you stable, they’ll set you up with a therapist for long-term recovery, and meds to manage the symptoms.

You’re right that talk doesn’t fix money problems and things like that. But what it does do is help you keep from suffering alone AND it teaches you how to manage the feelings in a healthier way. That can be the difference between falling apart in the face of money trouble and having the skills to focus on finding a solution–or even just a way to survive.

The thing about depression is that it makes everything feel worthless and hopeless. You have to trust that you can’t properly interpret whether a solution will work for you, and that the medical experts you align with are going to have a clearer view of what will help bring you out of the depression.

That doesn’t mean all therapists are good. Or that a good therapist for someone else will fit you. But those are problems you can start to manage once you’ve taken a few steps toward recovery (assuming they turn out to be problems at all).

I’ve been in therapy for over a decade, on meds for just as long, and once in a ward for a week. Does it suck to be “trapped” in the unit? Yep. It’s not a party in there. I don’t ever want to go back. But when I did go in, it was because I felt like I legitimately couldn’t take care of myself or see a way forward. In that regard, it saved me. So if my biggest complaint is that I felt stuck for a few days, well… so be it.

But there are many other options before being admitted. There are social workers, psychologists, psychiatrists, intensive outpatient programs, ketamine therapy, and more. You may never need to be admitted at all if you can get to treatment before you’re completely overwhelmed. Sometimes the solution is incredibly simple, like getting more vitamin D and a proper sleep schedule. Sometimes it takes a little ongoing medicine with weekly talk sessions. Sometimes it’s more. But whatever it is, it’s worth it. You can be happy in tough situations, but if you’re depressed you can’t be happy even in good situations. And that’s no way to live.

Long story short: if you’re depressed you aren’t equipped to judge whether a solution will work without trying it, you have very little to lose by trying therapy, and the potential gains are the difference between misery and a fulfilling life. A mental institution is an extreme measure that’s only part of a longer-term solution, and you may never need it. But it can be the literal difference between life and death if you’re at the end of your rope.

The mental health institution helps by taking you out of your everyday problems. They provide a safe simple environment, where all you have to focus on is yourself and your mental health.

In a way it is putting all the problems outside of yourself on pause, so you can focus on your mental health.

I can’t speak for mental institutions, but I have been to rehab, which can be quite similar. It helped me to figure out what my issues were and how to solve them without alcohol. I was very sceptical that it would help, but I was amazed at how much it really did. I wish I could go back, even though I’ve been sober for many years now.

I think there’s a big difference between a mental institution and a therapist. Almost apples and oranges.

Practically, what voluntarily checking myself into a psych hospital did: was given a temporary case worker who worked for the hospital. She assessed my needs. She called up a social services agency, who came to the hospital to meet me. I was placed in a shelter short term upon discharge, while new case manager worked on finding better temp housing. Was given 3 weeks of meds on discharge. Case manager connected me with an agency that helped me apply for ssi.

Whether you have insurance or not effects the care you receive.

If you voluntarily 5150 yourself, you will not be allowed to buy a gun afterwards.

A good hospital will be mostly safe, group activities, people who come in, teach meditation, mindfulness, art stuff. Made awesome connections. Lot of creative people in psych hospitals.

Bad hospital, 2 days waiting in an overcrowded room, shoved, yelled at by staff, violent patients, screaming, chaos.

In my area, there are crisis stabilization places thatve emerged to fill a void. People who don’t need to be hospitalized, but need help. 2 week stay, more freedom of movement, day trips, can bring and keep your laptop, phone, wear normal clothes. But the tone of these places vary depending on who’s there. Sometimes, hostile, violent clients who make other people feel unsafe. Week later, different group, Uber chill and zen.

If you have ptsd, are fleeing domestic abuse, or have autism, any of the above places can be challenging.

Therapy can help you manage burdens, and most importantly, manage and ease the influence they have over you® mental.

It’s not about solving practical issues that can’t be solved. It’s about how to approach, view, accept, and handle them.

Having mental burdens doesn’t help resolving the unsolvable. In du cases the mental mechanisms are not helpful but detrimental. Easing them can improve both subjective and objective, practical situations.