In 2017, a severe psychotic episode landed me in a psychiatric ward for almost two months. The experience was traumatizing and its aftermath led to some of the darkest years of my life.
I spent most of that time in grueling EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing) therapy sessions.
I was desperate to reframe the havoc my psychotic thinking wreaked on my mind as well as the terrifying experiences I had during the months I was in a psych ward.
I saw one woman break both her arms on the window of a seclusion room. I heard people screaming nonsense throughout the day and night and sometimes that person was me. I was forcibly restrained to a bed on multiple occasions, for hours at a time.
It was horrible.
There was nowhere else I could have lived safely in that state of mind, but sadly, I left the ward with more trauma than when I came in.
The worst part about it was my experience solidified a terrifying suspicion I had all my life — I was severely mentally ill.
This was a truth I had been running from for 25 years.
The experience also taught me what it feels like to be treated as less than because of my mental health. The ward I was in was more of a holding cell than anything. I could speak to the nurses and doctors but they looked right through me like I was a ghost.