"yellsnomatt" at an unknown facility

This testimony was made by a person known as "yellsnomatt". All rights go to the original author.

Oh man once i get started on residential treatment centers...

When I was 17 I spent four months in a wilderness "treatment center" down south. This treatment center was advertised as a rehab, behavioral center, fat camp, and juvie all in a single facility. But it didn't matter why you were there, all the kids went through the same shit. We slept in tents and spent the majority of our time doing group exercise and outdoor labor. But that's not the bad part. While the initial transition was rough, the physical environment of the program wasn't bad compared to the psychological bullshit.

We were not allowed to speak (or nonverbally communicate) at all without first raising two fingers to get the attention of a staff member to ask permission. The only time it was appropriate to speak "openly" was in group therapy twice a week. Conversation was not allowed. Period. If you spoke out of turn they put you on non-comm which meant you were not allowed to ever speak and you had to write everything you had to say. Break non-comm and they put you on med-comm which means no communication unless it concerns a medical emergency. There were other punishments (called "consequences" b/c treatment programs don't believe in punishment) too for breaking the "standards", such as being banned from using condiments on your food for using more than three shakes of the salt/pepper shaker. (NO JOKE) Another consequence was that we all would have to work out outside for our morning PT if one of us farted without excusing ourselves during PT, which was inside b/c its cold at 5 am in March.

Our only communication with the outside world was through letters written to our parents, unless you said things that the staff didn't like. Each and every one of our letters had to be read and approved by a staff member. We were not allowed to ask our parents to come and get us. And it'd be safe to say that parents were discouraged from doing so 100% of the time when they asked about picking up they're kids prematurely. (which is kind of understandable.)

The only way out of the treatment center was graduation. And graduation depended on how much you followed the rules, and how much ass you kissed and made it appear you had changed your "oppositionally defiant" disposition. It was required of you to snitch on your peers for breaking the rules (everybody did) in order to reach the next phase of the program. Whether or not one would advance a phase and get a step closer to escape was determined by the group therapist that the entire group of 4-6 troubled kids met with twice a week as group for hour-long sessions. It would be a good idea to make yourself cry during therapy so it looked you were making some kind of "progress". The therapist mostly went off of the written reports of the group leaders who were staff members. The group leaders were either newly graduated psych majors or just some guy with a degree who needs a job. And most people would only work for a few months and then leave. Anybody who has ever been in a treatment center knows how power corrupts in that type of position, like in those Stanford Experiments. The lack of empathy is disgusting.

The worst consequence was supposed to be level 3 separation but my time on level 3 was the best time I had in the program. In level 3 you are separated from everyone else and you aren't allowed in any of the buildings. You sleep outside and you spend most of your time either hiking or just sitting under the sun. And you get to have your own fire! But you are under non-comm. It's not a big deal because it's refreshing not having to put up with everyone else, mainly the staff. The only real interaction you have with staff on level 3 is when you pick up your food. All meals on level 3 are cold. I was lucky I was there in the summer. I'd heard some ugly stories about the winter.

It's funny because it's going to sound like I'm making this up too but we were also forced to go to Baptist church twice a week with the most stereotypical Southern preacher lol. Technically, we weren't forced but it was either go to church in the nice air conditioned trailer or wait outside. I think many of us were just glad we got to sit and relax for a bit. There was one Muslim kid and the preacher would talk so much shit about Muslims. It was kind of crazy how ignorant the guy was. He would literally say, "I have nothing against Muslims," and then say the most offensive things.

The staff smoked cigarettes in front of us. The staff ate their delicious food in front of us while we were stuck with facility food. They never shared. The staff regularly made fun of us. Interactions with staff were usually confrontational. These people have the nerve to complain to us that they don't paid enough as some of us sleep in the fucking mud getting hit in the face with rain because we annoyed them.

This is getting too long so I'm gonna try to wrap it up. I could write a motherfucking trilogy about the place.

As unpleasant of an experience as it was I don't know whether it was bad or good. I got in shape and my tolerance for discomfort is higher. I went back to school (the main reason my parents sent me there was truancy. also pot). But I don't know if I'll ever be at peace with those experiences. It was definitely the worst experience of my sheltered life. And it really revealed the true nature of humanity to me. People will do what they can get away with.
Some of the kids were as bad as the staff.

There were a few individual staff members deserving of respect.

Source:
The original testimony on the Reddit message board

JayTWC at an unknown facility

This testimony was made by a person known as "JayTWC". All rights go to the original author.

I totally agree with you, the mental healthcare system is critically flawed right now.

I was checked into inpatient last year for about five days. I failed to show up to a psychiatrist's appointment due to my sleeping disorder and woke up to about three EMT's standing over me wanting me to go the hospital. I had a pretty severe sleeping disorder that affected my life last year in a very serious way, I didn't attend school because of it for about a semester.

The hospital and my psychiatrist decided that I should go to an inpatient facility. All of my fellow patients were friendly and I regret to this day not being able to keep in contact with them. The staff were good people but they do treat you like an animal. I got in confrontations quite a lot with them as I did not want to be there at all, honestly I don't think anybody did.

On my second day I believe, I was placed on ITP after a confrontation with the "hot-head" in the staff. ITP basically meant I was confined to my room most of the day and had to fill out worksheets, I spent most of my time reading "Robinson Crusoe." For someone that actually wanted treatment, ITP would mean they would not get it as worksheets obviously won't treat depression. They also began prescribing me Vyvanse which is a drug commonly used for ADHD. This drug was prescribed to me by my psychiatrist before and resulted in some anger issues. I mostly contribute my behavioral issues to their dumb ass decision to give me Vyvanse without telling me or my parent.

Most of my time spent in the hospital was spent desperately trying to get home, as were most of the patients. I don't think there was a time I was ever more unhappy than my small amount of time in a mental facility. It's a really gloomy experience, you have no contact with the outside world other than family visits, and those for the most part just made me that much more sad. You are also kept separate from most of the time. The rule made sense to me and there were some creepy experiences I had but it just made me feel much more alone overall, compound that with the fact that I spent about three days with little contact with anyone in the actual hospital.

The system is also completely inefficient. You are assigned a doctor who only meets you for about I'll estimate about thirty minutes during your stay. He is the only one that can make tangible decisions during your stay, and it is a hell of a time getting an appointment with this doctor. I had to stay two extra days at the hospital just waiting for the doctor to meet me. For me this meant an extra forty-eight hours sitting in my room alone, on Vyvanse.

I am glad however I spent those days because of the experiences others shared with me there, I heard some horrifying stories. I had a great deal of respect for my fellow patients after hearing their tales, and I wish all of them well.

The day I left I was extremely happy, I mean things I take for granted now such as just being outside, breathing fresh air, and listening to music off of my phone I savored. All of that happiness however was artificial once I returned to the "real world," and to this day things haven't really changed for me.

My advice to those not looking to harm themselves/homicidal, avoid inpatient at all costs, my experience with outpatient was much more constructive.

Source:
The original testimony on the Reddit message board

"NaturalSelectionDied" at unknown facilities

This testimony was made by a person known as "NaturalSelectionDied". All rights go to the original author.

I was in inpatient mental health for 3 months then a residential treatment center for 5 days. Inpatient was pretty bad, but the residential was many times worse. I had mental health issues and this place treated behavioral issues, learning disabilities and mental health.

Out of 500 kids, about 5 had mental health issues, then 1 third of the rest had learning disabilites (moderate to severe autism, I shared a living quarters with two of them, and they seemed normal except that their minds were identical to a 6 year old. They watched power rangers every day.) The other 2 thirds had "behavioral health problems" but from what I saw most people took RDC as an alternative for JDC and were mostly normal but they honestly belonged in JDC, as there were gangs formed at RDC that bullied kids and etc.

This place was hell because unlike mental health treatment, you had to stay with all the kids, at all times, and couldn't opt out of activities. You woke up at six, and everyone did hygeine, went to school then when you were let out you got a small snack then you had to go outside from 3:30 until 9-10 every single day.

The part that made it impossible for me was the staff treated us like uter shit. I mean we were complete animals to them, even those who weren't LD. I have never felt truly hopeless and not cared about until I went there.

I only made it 5 days until I cheeked one of my medications then the next day when it was time for meds I took that one too then repeatedly put my hand to my mouth faking taking a pill when I was sure someone was watching then when they came over I took the second pill I had stored. They asked and I told them I took 5, so that they would take me to the ER. Luckily they did.
Happy ending: I went back to inpatient (one that I really liked) for a few weeks then my mom was supposed to take me back to the RDC but she knew I was better and didn't need it anymore so upon arrival she let them know she wasn't signing me back in and to get my things.

Afterwards I still lived a rather unhealthy lifestyle for a while and then got very into Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism and spirituality in general and am doing many times better.

My reason for going in the first place was suicidal/homicidal ideation (planning on going on a school massacre) and nothing helped that except for spirituality, which I wish I had discovered earlier. Though I believe it was meant to unfold the way it did. I don't think I truly would have understood it all until I lost it all.

Source:
The original testimony on the Reddit message board