I spent twelve hours in a mental hospital this past week. I feel okay talking about this experience because it was basically just a reaction to my medication and nothing that I really needed to go process or work through. I thought since I am so open about this experience, I would share this and give insight to what it is like, and when to get help.

I had an activation reaction to Lexapro, which is a SSRI. Basically, every time my dosage changed, I started to get bipolar symptoms and was then misdiagnosed bipolar. With all this, I began to become manic depressive and had to go to the ER. This is where the story starts.

I went to the ER and was evaluated by a psychiatrist. I had was almost for sure that my feelings were because of my medication and she gave me the option to go home, or stay under medical care and try and get my prescription mess worked out. I know how much medication helps me, so I decided to stay. They told me they were transferring me to another hospital, and told me the name and location, but failed to mention that this was a mental hospital. I should have realized what was happening, but I was so tired that I just thought I was going to another regular hospital. I know why they don't outright say mental hospital because the reaction from some patients may stop them from getting the help they need. However, in my case, I am no stranger to these programs and would have rather gone to another facility that I am already familiar with. Anyways, I was able to sleep a couple hours and was then taken by ambulance to the mental hospital.

This whole thing started at the ER about 11:30 p.m. I got to the mental hospital at about 5:45 a.m. I have barely slept and I am so tired that I am barely coherent. My first experience at this place was chaotic. None of the nurses really knew what they were doing with my intake and other patients were on the verge of rioting about not going to breakfast on time. I have had no sleep and I basically have no idea what is going on.

I begin to see doctors. I met with the medical doctor to make sure nothing was physically wrong with me. I ended up breaking down to her and talking about how I didn't belong here. I then went along with my day at the mental hospital.

If you have ever been hospitalized or done a partial hospitalization, then you know that these programs are based on groups. There was a morning group where we all went around and said what we wanted to work on and how we would do that, We then had a process group where we talked about boundaries. This was the first time in months that I was off of my meds and I started to get panicked and claustrophobic. I was able to calm down with the help from one of the nurses and I laid down in my bed for a while. At this point, I was just waiting to talk to the psychiatrist.

The psychiatrist at this place was awesome. She was so nice and very easy to talk to; something all psychiatrists should be. I explained to her what happened and she told me that I was not bipolar. I never had the grandiose mania that class bipolar presents and I have always slept fine. With bipolar disorder, mania often comes with insomnia for sometimes weeks at a time. She straight up told me that this was a "weak admission," meaning that I really didn't need to be here. She still wanted to keep me for 3-4 days which is when I started to lose it.

Later on that day, I started crying in my room. I realized I had made a huge mistake coming here. I had the option to go home, and I did not take it. One of my favorite nurses found me crying and began to calm me down. I then found out that because I was there voluntarily, I could always leave AMA (against medical advice). As soon as I heard this I immediately calmed down. I wasn't trapped here. I called my parents on the little pay phone (since we can't have cell phones in the unit, obviously) and talked it over with them. We came to the conclusion that it would be best for me to come home. I was feeling absolutely horrible and broken. Now, that is not to say mental hospitals are pointless. I will never say that. Since this was a medication issue for me, there was nothing for me to really work through in the groups we had. I was going to be kept purely for monitoring my meds which my own psychiatrist could do, as well as my dad who I would be staying with since he is a medical professional with experience in psychology. I told them I wanted to leave and this is when my view of this hospital changed.

I was basically given an ultimatum by a nurse. I could try and leave AMA, or I could be put on a 5150 hold, meaning I would be forced to stay for at least 72 hours. This scared me to my core. Tears started to run down my face. I decided to take my chances and continue to pursue to leave AMA. They had to call my psychiatrist first who was concerned, but very respectful of my decision. I explained to her how I felt horrible here and that the support of my family would be better for me. I am no stranger to these programs, again. I did partial hospitalization as an adolescent and that benefitted me so much because I was able to go home each day and only spend eight hours on the unit a day. She said she wouldn't discharge me, but could not put me on a hold because I was not a danger to myself or others—so I was free to leave AMA. We started the process and under two hours later, I was out, despite the nurse telling me this could take over three hours.

I learned from this experience that everything happened for a reason. I do not regret it because I got the answers I needed to get better. I also saw that the people in there needed to be there more than me. Many people had attempted suicide or were addicts. They could benefit from this place. At the moment, I would not really benefit from being in there for what was wrong with me. My case was as simple as stopping my medications and I immediately started to feel better. I think that is also why I was so frustrated. I felt better, but this place was making me feel worse. it felt toxic. I was able to be on my way home around 6 p.m.

Mental hospitals are an amazing resource for people who need help. Never be afraid to reach out for help in fear of going to one. They really aren't that bad when they can truly benefit you. The people I saw in there were getting the help they needed and were clearly getting better in the short time I saw them.

Don't ever be afraid to ask for help. Your safety and well-being is worth more than you will ever know.