Admitting Myself to a Psych Hospital Was the Best Decision of My Life

Psychosis is not fun. I found it recently, and required a hospital admission to recover. Eight days I spent in the hospital… and I could not have learned more about my mental health in the process.

Initially, we had called the ambulance because my partner was overwhelmed, but he ended up driving me to the next city’s hospital, because I did not want to go to the one I work at as a nurse. I know everyone and did not want to expose myself to them.

It was the best decision of my life.

I went to triage at the hospital and told her I was severely struggling with my mental health and “needed to be admitted.” She just looked at me in awe and accepted my request.

I was sent to the psych holding unit (a locked place where we can wait for our rooms to be ready in the general psychiatric unit). I was severely manic, but I still had a good experience. The nurses were amazing and I even made a friend. He was struggling with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and was having a hard time too, but he was so awesome. We connected. It was a good start to my hospital stay.

The next day I was admitted to the general psychiatric unit, and got a semi-private room. The girl I was sharing with was super cool, and even gave me my own personal journal (because I was using the ones the hospital provided). She made me cry with joy. I couldn’t have asked for a better roommate.

Because I was mildly exposed to COVID-19 at work (I told triage initially, but they still put me in a semi-private room), I was moved to a private room with my own bathroom. I had to wear a mask 24/7, but it was totally worth it.

I spent the next eight days surrounded by psychiatric patients, nurses, doctors, social workers, and support workers. It was a complete whirlwind.
The staff and even the patients truly straightened me out. Having the routine at the hospital was really therapeutic. Not having to worry about cooking, cleaning, or grocery shopping, for example, was very helpful. Having social workers with their doors open, waiting for us to knock and tell them our struggles. Having nurses around to vent to when things got overwhelming. Even some of the patients were extremely supportive and helped me see clearer.

I remember one night, I had a panic attack and the nurse just completely refocused me and straightened me out in the best way possible. I will always remember her. Another night, I was super emotional and another lovely patient just came over and gave me a huge hug. I swear, all it takes is a good hug sometimes.

All and all, I had a positive hospital experience. I was probably discharged too soon, because I was begging the doctor to get out. I’m a nurse, so I think I can do everything perfectly. When I got out of the hospital, I had a super intense couple days. I was severely manic and productive, but I was having a hard time settling down.

After a considerable amount of prescription drugs and a good sleep, I feel refreshed this morning. Enough to write this article. When I’m manic (but not too manic), I can write and write and write. So I’m excited to see what this instability can do with my blog.

My main advice for this article is to look at the hospital as a positive place to heal. These workers are here to help you and only want you to succeed in the community. In my experience, they truly work together as a team to make sure you have a successful time at home with your mental illness. They can work miracles, and have enough experience and insight to be a positive influence on your experience.

When I was so acute, the nurses were so calming and reassuring, and I always ended up having a good sleep. There was not a single night in the hospital I regretted being there. I was in the absolutely perfect place to get the help I needed.

So, when you’re intensely struggling with your mental health and nowhere to go? Remember that the hospital can be a safe place to get help.