Why take meds? They are not a cure for her problems, it's just a temporary fix that will have to last for her entire life.
Meds can be useful if used in short bursts to help people reach breakthroughs therapeutically, but instead Big Pharma's reformatted it into a lifelong bandage.
Integrating LSD into therapy sessions would likely be healthier than how they're handling things now.
In my opinion the treatment process in psychiatry is highly negligent in so many ways, in accordance with specifically "patients in crisis" situations. Which is the most serious and immediate concerning, mental health cases, and the reason psychiatry exists at all.
Despite the urgency in the nature of these problems, the plans that are in place regarding treating and dealing with these kind of patients are, not up to par to handle it.
The system is one size fits all, in too many ways, in too many places. *vomits* and it makes me sick.
So, entering rehab, you're immediately given a one size fits all, outfit to wear. A packet to read through, and instructional classes that mostly involve listening rather than talking. The only chance you get to speak to a professional, is thirty minutes- once a week. You can voice your thoughts briefly in groups, but if you talk too long- you're weird, and if it gets too detailed and personal- you're also, weird.
But despite being weird, even if you did go out of your way to mention all the "weird" stuff, there is nothing that will be done about it because of having stated that. You could literally sit in your morning group and say, "I think I wanna kill myself later, maybe around 7pm I was thinking- after I have a salad and a banana. Since I like bananas you know. *shrugs*" and they'd go, "okay, next."
And it goes around the circle like that, and we,... what's the word for it. We're just talking into the air, it means nothing. Nothing would ever come of it. It was incredibly frustrating, when you're in a sort of crisis in life. You're literally losing your fucking mind, you want to kill yourself, you're depressed, your anxious, your life is a train wreck. You've put your entire life on hold and paid good money to be fucking institutionalized for god sake, just to sit there in your pajamas every morning and complain about the same damn problem to a "professional" who- really, could be a kindergarten teacher having a moment of show and tell and we wouldn't know the fucking difference.
Because we just sit there going around in a circle talking about "look at what I'm struggling with with no solutions and I haven no idea what to do about that are crippling and destroying my life and me, from the inside out slowly whilst I suffer to death... so fun."
So I'm just like, every morning. "yep, still--- still struggling with the same, damn thing I, said yesterday I was struggling with. I uh, I have no idea who I am and uh, I have no internal sense of identity so... uh. yeah... don't know what that's about. help me?"
And I'm just sitting there like, saying this over, and over, and over again. We write it on a stupid piece of paper and hand it in.
"WHAT ARE YOU STRUGGLING WITH TODAY?" or whatever the question was like, "what are you hoping to work on blah blah blah"
And I'm like, "identity issues."
And I wrote that every single day. No one, responded to these papers, or these comments out loud.
We take tests everyday, asking about our mood. And I'm circling things like, "critically depressed." "suicidal." "please fucking kill me."
circle all the emotions you feel! I feel, sick to my stomach, I feel hopeless, I feel empty.
And they're doing self harm checks on my body everyday because that's what a terrible, mental state they recognize I'm in, they have the where with all to thoroughly check my entire body for scars scratches bruises, punctures. They have the where with all to test my piss for drugs. They have the where with all to print out all these stupid papers and make us fill out all these stupid questionairres everyday answering the same goddamn questions over and over.
And, still, no one really did a thing about, what was really going on with me. No one got to the heart of the matter. No one talked to me, no one really even cared I was there. I was so invisible, and they paid so little attention, I was actually able to escape. Very easily.
They left the kitchen unattended most hours of the day, and open and unlocked. I noticed the chef going in and out a back door on storage reloading days, mostly veggies and milk shipments. Whenever it was shipment day, that door got left unlocked for many hours and it led directly to the outside. So the chef went into a storage closet, the door shut behind him- maybe it was a freezer I don't know. I hopped over the bar, went straight for the door that led to the outside, and just ran. In the morning between breakfast and lunch.
I sat by the window the night before, and didn't join in any groups for that evening. Should of been a sign something was wrong. I also talked about wanting to leave with someone, who instead of listening to me, just talked to me in a condescending way for like 5 minutes about "remember all the reasons you came here, and you want to stay." once again- a one size fits all, lecture. That was brief and haphazard.
I could of gone and killed myself that night, easily. And while it's not their fault, I'm just showing, the huge gap they allow, for people like this to slip through the cracks into. They leave too much room for error... But it just gets worse.
During breakfast the next morning, after I blatantly was sad staring out a window, isolating myself from people and abandoned group attendance. I was silent eating my breakfast instead of socializing with everyone. Normally I tried to make conversation and be engaged but this time I was completely disconnected and couldn't care less about what they were talking about. I just stared straight forward at the door in the kitchen behind the bar, watching the chef go in and out of that door- leaving it unlocked behind him every time. I watched him leave it unattended and timed the minutes between. And visualized the jump over the counter countless times. I was staring forward at that, while spooning cereal into my mouth very intently. So much so that someone waved their hand in front of my face and was like, "yo, what's going on?" (another patient) and I was like "oh nothing. just, not awake yet haha-"
They watched us eat, because they wanted to make sure all of us ate our meals. So I'm playing a long you know, eating. Going through the motions. Of what they wanted to see and what. Knew they were looking for. But they didn't pay attention to the fact I was completely emotionally and mentally disconnected from the situation in front of me, for the entire thirty minutes at lunch I didn't say a word. It wasn't like me to be like that.
You think, as a counselor you'd go over and ask, hey is everything okay? You think they'd aim to establish a report with their residential patients you know, we're there a long time. Get to know us. But no, we were just, hearded like sheep. They counted our heads once in a while. That was it.
This is an unsensical and ineffiecient approach to psychiatric care. First of all, making sure you eat and that you're present isn't treatment. If it were, why didn't school work? And second of all, it's backwards. Why wait, until you count the heads and someone's gone missing- to find out Johnny hung himself in the bathroom while you were watching everyone scoop grass into their mouths like cattle. By that point, to find someone missing is too late. It's too late. They're already dead. The counting, it's pointless. You might as well count your toes, and watch the clock tick by instead. You're not getting paid to treat patients, you're getting paid to *act* like you are.
To *pretend* you care, but not genuinely make a proper effort. It's incredibly sloppy, and negligent.
Imagine a hallway in a hospital, where the doctor on staff, after eight hours has gone by, goes down each door and goes, "hey, still kicking?" and then writes on a piece of paper, "19 of my patients are here. one of them isn't, he must of jumped out the window or something not sure. I wasn't watching." signed, -doctor retard.
In medicine, this is negligence.