My Spiritual Journey

I have been hospitalized many times over the past sixteen years. During my stays behind locked doors, my experiences have been mixed and varied. With the exception of my first hospitalization, the reason I had entered psychiatric wards was because I had been off my medications or had been misdiagnosed on a prior ward. Very ill and desperate, I usually found my way to the emergency room of the nearest hospital where I was sent off to any hospital that had a bed available and would accept my current insurance.

Once admitted, I was always assigned to a specific team of professionals who were called upon to evaluate my current state of mind and overall physical condition. Subsequently, a well-thought-out plan would be compiled by all to lessen my symptoms of mental illness and begin to rehabilitate me.

When I sat with the men and women who evaluated me, I described exactly how I was feeling mentally and physically, answered their pointed questions and was misdiagnosed by most of them time and time again. The usual prognosis was bipolar disorder and against my specific wishes, I was usually prescribed Lithium to be taken in graduated doses until my mood was restored to an even keel. It seldom worked but was prescribed anyway. It has been my experience that some of these doctors were well meaning but dull and some were simply arrogant, believing their opinions were infallible because they held advanced degrees.

For example, one female psychiatrist insisted my only illness was bipolar disorder simply because I had mood swings. She ignored the fact I told her in addition to these swings of mood, I heard voices and saw things that were not there. If my mood was elevated, the voices were “happy and kind.” If my mood was depressed, they were “mean and evil.” She tried to tell me the reason I heard voices and had hallucinations was because my moods were more intense than other bipolar sufferers because of very low levels of serotonin in my brain. Once again, against my explicit wishes she increased the dosage of Lithium and assured me that would help. It didn’t.

Another male psychiatrist in a different hospital was very aggressive and belligerent only because I explained to him that Lithium didn’t work well enough and I was still experiencing some voices and hallucinations. He told me that he was the doctor and he would prescribe medications he believed would, “most benefit my current illness”. When I balked at his decision to yet again prescribe Lithium, he got up from his chair, stormed out of the room, paraded down the corridor and walked out the locked door. From the other side of the door, he shouted that if I didn’t take the medications he prescribed, he would have me committed to a state hospital for a six-month observation. Well, of course I took the Lithium.

Finally, during my last admittance on a locked ward and under the care of a keen, knowledgeable and concerned professional doctor, I was diagnosed as being Schizoaffective of the bipolar type. This means I suffer from mood disorder and I also suffer from thought disorder. For many years doctors were treating and medicating only half my illness. The new psychiatrist prescribed Seroquel for my thought disorder and Effexor for my mood disorder. This medicinal cocktail has been working quite effectively for me. During the past year, I have felt better than I have in years. Also, I haven’t felt it necessary to go anywhere near an emergency room in any hospital, which is enough proof for me to know my last hospitalization was a total success. Actually, the doctor gave me the duel diagnoses of alcoholism and substance addiction while also suffering from mental illness. I attend AA meetings regularly and have almost four years of sobriety.

I have had varied experiences with psychiatric nurses as well. I remember one particular nurse who came onto the ward every day dressed in black stiletto high heeled shoes, very short mini skirts and revealing blouses. She had a bad habit of entering patients’ rooms...