Friday, December 9, 2022

Comments by SuperNOVA

Showing 3 of 3 comments.

  • Trauma informed programs are few and far between. I had early childhood problems, a hellish home, abandonment. It colored my whole life. I was kicked out of daycares as a problematic toddler. Seriously. And it didn’t get much better. Imagine telling a toddler their behavior is shameful.

    Learning about the 4 Fs, fighting the past in the present, even understanding why my selfishness was a survival mechanism opened doors. I’m healthier than ever.

    I had a PTSD reaction so bad it appeared as a bipolar manic episode. In fact my php psychoanalyst told me narcissistic rage is rooted in trauma.

    My behavior was problematic but it was revolutionizing to have someone tell me why I was the way I was.

    Moreover what I really needed was to reinhabit my body. And to learn what bodily safety feels like. For too often we focus on the mind. Polyvagal theory has been incredibly helpful in this regard. Now it’s a little bit easier for me to socialize and be myself.

  • Thank you for this. I was hospitalized once and all I could think of was, if you’re treating people like children, ignoring their social history, etc. how do you possibly expect improvement?

    The psych ward treats you like you are missing a leg and need prosthetics. Your leg will never grow back. Whereas situations of the psyche are the polar opposite. It is the very definition of malleable, complicated, elastic.

    I had a wonderful time getting to know the individual society has given up on. There are certainly some people that aren’t coming back. But it seemed like most could improve dramatically with some compassion and understanding.

    There was one man with a nervous rock that spoke in very short stunted clips. I started rocking along with him. And talked with him like an adult would. He improved almost instantly. He was understood and listened to.

    I know it’s exhausting and the resources are scarce but the current model is a disgrace.

  • Wow, powerful reading this. I’m a young professional with a great career but last year I finally broke, became very disregulated and told on myself. Went in voluntary. Didn’t have any family in the city but I should have just stayed home and rode it out.

    I went for three days to a Medicaid semi prison where the psychiatrist didn’t have the stones to even be there in person. We didn’t even have real beds. My roommate was racist and a homophobe and I seriously went to try to sleep in the padded room. There was some vague attempt at a group therapy type thing daily but otherwise zero to do. When they finally let me out one of the guards took my nice coat and claimed I never had it. One of the nurses called me a nasty man. Yeah I was irritated, being cold turkey off an SSRI. One of the doctors ignored a question I asked in conversation and continued on. I got irritated and told them I’m not a houseplant. Talk to me like an adult or don’t talk to me.

    They didn’t like when someone pretended to have rights. Most of the inmates were just gone. Oh yeah I kept begging for them to call my work. I almost got fired because no one heard from me. Neat.

    The second place I went for 14 days. Was supposed to be the top psychiatric hospital. It was definitely a little better. But they kept me forever because I was so irritated and pissy all the time. I’ve got horrible PTSD from child abuse that was never discussed. They kept saying I’m bipolar. It’s all over my records now. Since then I’ve never had any sort of manic episode. Been promoted twice. Almost entirely off APs but stay on mood stabilizers. I think finally they realized a manic episode can only last so long and yeah I’m really just pissy because of the place I’m in. Once I left that situation it was like night and day according to my sister.

    When I finally got out and was referred to outpatient they put me in the trauma program and not bipolar.

    As a grown man the experience of being gaslit, being unable to leave someplace, get any sort of objective assistance, was traumatizing. I’ve never felt so invalidated. Had to beg to take a shower. All I wanted was to discuss my issues and I never got any sort of psychoanalysis. That would have flipped the script entirely. But I also have an IQ higher than the average doctor and I think they were threatened by that. I wrote up biopsychosocials for people as I was bored. They didn’t like that either. My stuff would mysteriously disappear a lot. It’s not like I was on any heavy medication, just some Seroquel. It was creepy and a little orwellian.

    It’s funny when you’re in a normal hospital room people at least pretend to care. Once you’re through those doors life is over for you until they decide it’s not. We were supposed to be able to sign a five day release paper and they never allowed me to. I was about as high functioning as a patient you get. I filed a complaint with the state and it was ignored.

    I will never go inpatient ever again. If I do I’ll never make the mistake of pretending to be a human that matters.

    I cannot imagine what it would be like to be worse off, have minors involved, legal involvement. I talked to a lot of people that did though. I was kind of the chaplain in a way.

    I sincerely believe I saved a life in the first hospital. You see this man had mental issues but I saw some yellowness and ascites. Asked if he was a drinker, he was, and could recite some AA drivel. I believe the man had hepatic encephalopathy and one morning he started vomiting blood. I got in the face of anyone who would listen and demanded that he be put on lactulose. Mysteriously he vanished from the Ward but nobody would tell me what happened. He kept calling me his son and that I would get a cut of his business. He had a successful masonry business but was on Medicaid for some reason. His children I believe were railroading him. In his stupor I figured out that his kids took the business because of his drinking and now his mental impairment. It might have been his actions as well as an alcoholic.

    I’ve got many more stories from my couple weeks but I got a taste of the sweet hell that the system is. I’m so sorry for your loss but I did my best to help anyone and everyone as I was in there. I also saw more s*** and piss and blood… Ugh.

    One woman again in the Medicaid place swallowed a bunch of pills (again) to get away from her abusive daughter that she lived with. She felt stuck and I begged her to reach out to Senior services. I gave her a ring I was wearing that she liked and commented on (in retrospect it was sort of feminine). I told her that if she ever tried to swallow pills again take the damn ring off because I want nothing to do with it. She seemed relieved someone cared. Wonder how she is.