Christ_empowered
Member
OK. I posted a few days ago about how a mental hospital I was "treated" at 7 years ago called the police and said I'd been making death threats. What really happened? I read over my records (you can get them when you apply for disability), and they didn't match up with what actually happened. I mean, this wasn't oversight or anything; this was lying to make the doctor and the hospital look like they were trying to help me. So, like an idiot (I admit that now), I called the hospital and said that dr.x had an "honestly problem," because his records didn't match what actually happened. They were actually just trying to drug me up. I remember the combo of pills I was discharged on. I did an online med-checker on it. No wonder they changed the records (or never recorded them accurately in the first place...) ! Potential for serotonin syndrome, agitation, psychosis, mania.
Now, that was Thursday of last week. The cops called my dad and simply said to get me more intensive mental health care. OK. I kind of feel as if I've had all the mental health treatment I can stand, but OK. I agreed to more frequent med checks with my shrink and bi-weekly appointments with a counselor. Good enough. We're done, right?
Nooooo. On Friday, I got a call around 9:00 AM from a woman at the mental health clinic I go to for med checks and occasional talk therapy. She said I had to come in at 10. I did. I was taken into a room with this woman--some sort of higher-up at the clinic--and my counselor. We talked; they were obviously watching me and listening closely for signs of "crazy."
Guess what? The doctor who treated me 7 years ago at that mental hospital was trying to have me "detained." In this state, if you are "detained"--if you're found to be in need of mental health treatment right now--they put you in a psychiatric ward and pump you full of drugs. The detention order lasts for 72 hours. After that, you can (and I probably would have) been put into a mental hospital until your "condition" is under control.
I had to talk to a shrink at the mental health clinic. My doctor was out. This guy was professional and didn't seem like he really wanted to deal with this. He gave me free samples of my Abilify (I had been ordering it from India), set me up with free Abilify straight from the company, and sent me on my way. Oh, and he gave me a very low-dose of a sedating antihistamine to help me sleep better+calm down some at night. Its as-needed (PRN), so its not even a daily/nightly thing. Just an option for when I need to chill out, I guess. And its just an antihistamine. Kind of like taking Benadryl, but fewer side effects.
So, I avoided being jailed on false charges and I avoided being committed by this angry ex-shrink. This doctor claimed that he feared for his own personal safety. I was told that he said he was afraid I might hurt him. Right.
God gave me an incredible sense of calm about the whole thing, which is one reason I didn't end up committed. I'm pretty sure that if I'd freaked out, the whole thing would have ended differently. As it was, I was even able to say "nice to meet you" to the higher-up counseling woman when she left to take care of some other stuff. I meant it, too. God allowed me to really progress to this point.
I'm just...angry? Disillusioned? What an abuse of power! God was and is with me, I know, and there's a lesson for me here, I know. But what about other "uppity" (ex)patients?
You know what's kind of funny? Dr.x, the doc from 7 years ago, didn't think I was bipolar. He said it was ADD and minor depression. Basically, I was sad and stupid--too stupid and vacuous, apparently, to have real problems. Not that the relativley minor nature of my problems prevented him from prescribing a dangerous, expensive, 4-drug combo. No. Why would it? And why, on earth, would he record his combo, when he could just say I was discharged on 1 mediction? Honesty? In psychiatry? Pshaw! What was I thinking?
Now, that was Thursday of last week. The cops called my dad and simply said to get me more intensive mental health care. OK. I kind of feel as if I've had all the mental health treatment I can stand, but OK. I agreed to more frequent med checks with my shrink and bi-weekly appointments with a counselor. Good enough. We're done, right?
Nooooo. On Friday, I got a call around 9:00 AM from a woman at the mental health clinic I go to for med checks and occasional talk therapy. She said I had to come in at 10. I did. I was taken into a room with this woman--some sort of higher-up at the clinic--and my counselor. We talked; they were obviously watching me and listening closely for signs of "crazy."
Guess what? The doctor who treated me 7 years ago at that mental hospital was trying to have me "detained." In this state, if you are "detained"--if you're found to be in need of mental health treatment right now--they put you in a psychiatric ward and pump you full of drugs. The detention order lasts for 72 hours. After that, you can (and I probably would have) been put into a mental hospital until your "condition" is under control.
I had to talk to a shrink at the mental health clinic. My doctor was out. This guy was professional and didn't seem like he really wanted to deal with this. He gave me free samples of my Abilify (I had been ordering it from India), set me up with free Abilify straight from the company, and sent me on my way. Oh, and he gave me a very low-dose of a sedating antihistamine to help me sleep better+calm down some at night. Its as-needed (PRN), so its not even a daily/nightly thing. Just an option for when I need to chill out, I guess. And its just an antihistamine. Kind of like taking Benadryl, but fewer side effects.
So, I avoided being jailed on false charges and I avoided being committed by this angry ex-shrink. This doctor claimed that he feared for his own personal safety. I was told that he said he was afraid I might hurt him. Right.
God gave me an incredible sense of calm about the whole thing, which is one reason I didn't end up committed. I'm pretty sure that if I'd freaked out, the whole thing would have ended differently. As it was, I was even able to say "nice to meet you" to the higher-up counseling woman when she left to take care of some other stuff. I meant it, too. God allowed me to really progress to this point.
I'm just...angry? Disillusioned? What an abuse of power! God was and is with me, I know, and there's a lesson for me here, I know. But what about other "uppity" (ex)patients?
You know what's kind of funny? Dr.x, the doc from 7 years ago, didn't think I was bipolar. He said it was ADD and minor depression. Basically, I was sad and stupid--too stupid and vacuous, apparently, to have real problems. Not that the relativley minor nature of my problems prevented him from prescribing a dangerous, expensive, 4-drug combo. No. Why would it? And why, on earth, would he record his combo, when he could just say I was discharged on 1 mediction? Honesty? In psychiatry? Pshaw! What was I thinking?