Personal Narrative-Psychiatric Hospital

I woke up in my bed at the Stephens Adult Psychiatric Unit in Joplin, Missouri. I had dreamt of being back home the previous night, so it was crushing to wake up and realize where I was. It was my 2nd day there, but it felt like much longer. Most psychiatric units have a similar structure. During the week, there are group activities that preoccupy you enough to make the day somewhat bearable. The weekends are worse, because there is nothing. You can either sleep or watch television in the day room with the other patients. The lack of activity constantly reminds you that you’re trapped. That all of your belongings have been taken away. That you are not allowed to go outside at all during the duration of your stay. That you are virtually entirely isolated from the outside world. The only thing I had to look forward to during those days was the hour of visitation with my parents twice a day. You’d think a psychiatric unit would be the one place on

It’s a struggle to get out of bed sometimes, I often just sit there struggling to comprehend the sequence of events which have taken place over the past year. I mean, I’m used to this now, its normal to me, but the fact that this has happened and that I am now ‘disabled’ as people would put it is hard to get my head around. And every time I look down I’m reminded of the pain and the struggle I faced, it’s a physical scar which links me to my grueling past, a physical and emotional journey.

“well hello sweetheart, what are you doing here?” she said peering down at me in a nasally voice.

Matt opens the wooden handle on the door that has an oval like shape made out of glass that he can see through with white symmetrical designs that look kinda like petals of a flower. I finally opened the door and say

I nod to him and walk down the long walkway and toward the door and unsurprisingly it was locked. I check out the house and find and open window.

“And what should we discuss? Which lady in here my husband is bedding?” Ann chirped.

I had been instructed to introduce myself to the patients, so I started with the first room and began to work my way down the long and dimly lit hallway. Popping my head into each room, I quickly muttered my name and half of a greeting before rushing over to the next one. Many of the patients in the unit didn’t acknowledge me, and for that, I was grateful. It wasn’t until I had gotten to the last room, in fact, that I was even met with a

“Ma’am, you’ll have to wait in the waiting room,” one of the nurses said as she stepped in Tina’s

I open up one of my eyes to find him slowly opening the door clutching a piece of paper in his hand and

“What?” By now, it was the two of you, as the nurse left to care for other patients. “Uh-”

I went to the appointment on that Monday, and being a bigger hospital, I was even more terrified. We checked in, and luckily found a spot to sit in one of the waiting room. The room wasn’t filled with sadness or negativity, it was somehow filled with laughter. There were many children, therefore some of the parents had brought coloring book for them. I just wanted to know what these children were at the hospital for. They seemed to be the most charming children ever, and I just couldn’t understand why whatever they're going through was happening to them. My parents had left to buy coffee,

Williams was seated on the right hand corner of the main desk area so he was closest to the entrance door. He is roughly around fifty, bald, very in shape, and a wide smile. I shake his hand and say, “Thanks for letting me shadow you.” He says, “Yep, grab a seat, kid. We’re not as busy as usual and now’s the time to ask me questions.” I pull up a chair but then two female nurses come over and put their hands on his shoulders and laughing said, “Welcome back, Dr. Williams! We’re taking a group picture and you have to join in.” All of the nurses, transcribers, and Dr. Williams are laughing, and from the outside looking in, it seems very evident that they were all close friends. Dr. Williams is back from a vacation where he had been fishing and camping with other doctors in the deep wilderness of Canada. Lebanon’s ER was on a friendly level but nothing like this. It is great and I am looking forward to the six hours shadowing him in the

Twinges of anxiety agitate. Get a grip because to run is not an option. And then presto, he opens the door and greets me with a warm smile. Unlike the last time, he escorts me into the living room. A space decorated with a gray velvet sofa and two leather chairs, and near the window, and a vintage bookcase with three glass paneled doors.

“Not yet, but she should be.” Anna headed up stairs. We should probably talk in our room else she’ll expect a full day’s report when she does get home.” I followed Anna up to what had become our bedroom since I moved in. It was a good-sized room, with a large window on the far wall with two beds on each side, and a night stand in between. My side of the room was pretty bare, I hadn’t brought a lot with me, other than a couple of books, clothes and my laptop. But I set up what I did bring on the dresser. Anna’s side was

protocol, the nurse puts on a mask before starting the admission process. Jeff tells the