Fighting for the right to live the life I deserve
There is another article by the author entitled
Fighting for the right to live the life I deserve. Part two,
which doesn't really fit the editorial purposes of this page, but is worth reading.
To pick just one horror story out of
my eleven years with a diagnosed mental illness is very hard. From day one I
have lived a hard life which in turn makes mental illness even harder to live
with. Suffering mental, sexual and physical abuse throughout the majority of my
life has made me a very paranoid and depressed person. One story that is and always
has been stuck in my mind is when I lived in
Several hours later I woke up in what is called a six point restraint. I could see through the window out into the hall way where there was a clock and I had been in there for about five hours. I noticed that my hands were turning purple from lack blood flow to them. I started trying to get out of the restraints, my feet and my arms were tied to this bed that was bolted to the floor and I had another strap across my chest. The restraints they had put me in were leather and had big metal locking buckles on them. I managed to manipulate my right hand just enough to squeeze it out of one strap then I started working on the others. With in a matter of minutes I was free and very upset that I had been left in here for over five hours unconscious. Just then one of the staff members had walked by and noticed that I had gotten out of the restraints and went running to the office. Another code was called and once again several large men came running in my direction. I couldn’t figure out what I had done wrong. In my opinion I was saving my life because my hands were so purple and cold. I tried to talk to them and they wouldn’t have anything to do with me. They just scooped me up slammed me back on the bed and restrained me once again. I was also sedated once again. I spent the next five days in restraints. The only time I got out of them is when I had to go to the bathroom or I got myself out of them. Even if I did have to use the bathroom it was very hard to get the staff’s attention because there were two big doors that led into the room I was in. They left those doors closed at all times while I was in there. I would have to yell and scream just get someone in there to help me. Sometimes it would take a few hours to get anyone in there to help me. I don’t know if it was because they could not hear me or it was just simply that they did not care.
I spent twelve weeks in this hospital. I remember leaving and when I walked outside I was blinded by the daylight because it had been so long since I had seen it. From that hospital I went on to three other treatment centers until I was eighteen and signed myself out of treatment completely. A few years later I learned that the hospital I spent five days restrained in was shut down for cruelty to the patients. I just wish they would have done it sooner.