Because I expressed my honest feelings to my vindictive cousin, was trusting enough to confide in her that I "sometimes think of suicide" (no plan, no actual attempt!!), 911 was notified and I was pounced on, held down, and forced into painful handcuffs by 2 Goliath-sized cops. This was
despite the fact that I was being totally cooperative, and attempting to have some kind of calm dialogue with the cops (they refused to listen to me).
Once at the hospital I was forced into a tiny room with no windows and very little air pumped-in air. I already battle chronic pain; after the handcuffs digging into and twisting my wrists so that my entire body was misaligned during the frightening ride, squeezed into the tight back seat of the cop car...in that cell I felt I was suffocating. In addition, I was in terrible physical pain.
I quietly told the attending MD that
I had been arrested for having bipolar disorder. That was
exactly the truth. The one difference, the singular difference, was that the sign said "hospital" rather than "jail".
I was told not to take my Seroquel because I must not be asleep when the steady stream of (entirely bland, jaded, and
totally uncaring) MD's, pdocs, and nurses streamed in. As a result, I could not sleep all night. The worst, and most dangerous, state for me is exhaustion.
By late morning I was sick from Seroquel withdrawal, exhaustion, and a complete lack of food while I was imprisoned in the cell. I had been taken in close to 9 p.m., but was not served breakfast until 8:30 a.m. I had not yet eaten dinner the night before when I was forced into custody. So I had gone 15 hours with no food.
I was told that I was to be transported 90 miles from my home to a "facility", where I would be held for 3 days - or more, up to weeks - or even more, depending upon my "attitude and behavior". The terror I felt was beyond any panic I have ever experienced in my life, and I know panic, all too well. My cats were, of course, in my home. When I told a nurse that I was extremely worried about their well-being, she told me that she would call animal control to check on them. Then I
did scream.
I died inside. I was completely unable to escape that prison. Absolutely no way to get out to take care of my precious family of furbabies, and to get sleep. If someone takes my cats, or if one or more run out of the door, that is IT for me. That IS my torture and death.
Finally, a blessing. One nurse, one angel, actually listened to me. She listened to my honest story. And she believed me. That nurse went 10,000 miles out of her way to contact MD's, pdocs, and my own pdoc. Finally, finally, I was told that "things had been blown out of proportion and I was not an actual suicide risk". I was released after 18 hours in custody, not having had one moment of sleep, and with my med regimen entirely messed up.
I will NEVER disclose to ANYONE IRL, or to anyone who knows my full name, unless that person is someone I am positive -
no doubt whatsoever - that I am EVER having just the tiniest thought of hopelessness.
I am writing this post because I want to warn other people with mental illness. If you are in crisis, do not go to the ER. Do not disclose to anyone who might call an emergency number on you. There is something terribly,
horridly wrong with the mental health care system. It is a way to
punish not to help.
If you are in crisis, please - speak only with a friend that knows you, and knows you so well that s/he will not project his/her life issues onto you by placing you under mental illness arrest. Call a warmline from a telephone that cannot be traced to your location and, for God's sake,
remain anonymous.
The ending to this story...oh, so ironic.
Overnight another shooting happened in Los Angeles.
So, what is the irony?
People had called the cops before the shooting (days, weeks prior). What did the cops do? Nothing. Not. One. Thing. The people who called and reported that the man was acting strangely and making threats were told this: There is no evidence to 5150 the man.
Our mental health system is a serious mess.