Hospital: Day One, Part One

So to get to the actually mental hospital my husband took me to the E.R. where I had to answer the same questions over and over for about 4 hours. They finally took me to the mental hospital in a secure ambulance where I was subjected to more questions for at least another hour. Things got bad during this time.

They sent in a “therapist” and I use the word loosely. She asked all kinds of confusing questions that threw me. Then, she decided to go into my past traumas. After having just met me. She wanted to know about my mother’s physical abuse and did I ever tell anyone. She asked about the sexual abuse: what happened, who did it, did I ever tell anyone. She wanted to know about my grandmother and how it felt to find her dead body when I was 18. I don’t have sufficient words in my vocabulary to describe how this felt. I felt violated though. She really dug into the sexual abuse because I had mentioned having a rough session with my therapist as having been a trigger for this crisis. She got judgemental when I told her I had never told anyone what he did to me. I said that I wasn’t sure until very recently what all had been done. I had only remembered the one incident before. She said that I could still tell now though. I balked at that because A) I’m not remotely ready for any confrontation and B) I have no proof. She insisted that I could still tell and that maybe if I did others would come forward. Moving on to my grandmother’s death, she zeroed in on the fact that my mother took me away from someone who loved me and then she said “How was that?” I was confused so she clarified that she wanted to know what it was like to find my grandmother’s dead body on the couch when she was 66 years old. I finally had to stop her and I told her that I was barely holding on to not switching and that I couldn’t talk about this stuff anymore. That was so horrible! I can’t believe how that felt… So many alters were wanting to come out and I stifled them. It caused major backlash.


About CimmarianInk

Abuse Survivor Diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder PTSD and Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) also known as Multiple Personalities
This entry was posted in abuse, Alters, bipolar disorder, Child Molestation, depersonalization, depression, derealization, DID, dissociation, dissociative fugue, dissociative identity disorder, Family Relationships, fibromyalgia, Mania, Medication, Meds, Mental Health, Multiple Personalities, neglect, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Psychiatric Drugs, Psychiatric medication, Psychiatry, PTSD, self-harm, Sexual Abuse, Social Security Disability, Therapy, Trauma and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Hospital: Day One, Part One

  1. castorgirl says:

    Oh wow… I’m so sorry tai. This is just wrong, so very wrong.

    You did so well to keep it together as well as you did. I’ve been in this situation during hospital assessments, and I know that you sort of get stuck like a deer in headlights. It’s impossible to get them to stop the questioning, and the system becomes more and more chaotic. It’s like being blindsided when you’re already vulnerable.

    So sorry…

    • tai0316 says:

      Deer in headlights is right.
      Why do they do that to people who are already in trouble? It’s interesting that the way they handle crisis is very similar even though we live in different places.

  2. Pingback: how do i get help for depression- Hospital: Day One, Part One | Living With Bipolar Disorder and DID|

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