On Friday December 4th I was committed to the Royal Jubilee Hospital for mental health reasons. I was discharged on Monday December 7th. I was forced to remain in an isolation chamber (as I would call it) - A locked room, stark, with a mattress, pillow, blanket (thank god), toilet, and video camera's. I spent most of my stay in that room as I refused to take the meds. I refused as I've spent all year coming off them. It would have been lethal for me to take the dose the Pharmacy would have had on file when personally knowing where I was in my detox. When I voiced this, I was physically restrained and medicated by injection then left in isolation. I'm sure there are regulations for dealing with patients like me that hospitals abide by.
When I was 18, I was shoved onto the floor and left in an isolation chamber for 48 hours at the psychiatric hospital Eric Martin Pavilion. I had admitted myself to hospital, then felt calmer, and wanted to go home. When I voiced this, it wasn't handled well.
I have not been in a psychiatric hospital since I was 18. Anyone who's had the opportunity to speak frankly with me would know the reason for that is because of my treatment at the hospital that final time in Eric Martin. Being left sobbing, banging at the walls of a seclusion chamber, screaming because I needed help - not tranquilizers -- not isolation. My time in hospital then, in that chamber, was more traumatizing to me than any rape or sexual abuse I can remember. Hospitals are meant to help people. ...Hospitals want to help people.
I chose to go to the Hospital on Friday December 4th. I'm appalled by how I was treated. I tried to make good use of all those cameras... I imagine my treatment was in accordance with staff training. At one moment I swore the guard restraining me was near to breaking my knee cap. The covid mask was awful too. My breath is toxic from the meds. It smells like poison and it just kept circulating. I spit up a lot too as detox includes a lot of seizure like fits (which I've made it through without hospitalization). One of the hardest parts was knowing that the seizure fits and PTSD episodes would pass if I was given time and space. There was no need to commit me.
Thank goodness one of the kind security guards who restrained me had heard that Darryn has nice hair 😉 as I am unable to communicate with Darryn Botian via any shared space and have been since August 2020.
I am feeling calmer now that more of the community around me knows what I'm going through.
Isolation kills. Community heals. Much love to my Community this first eve of Chanukkah!