Bipolar disorder and hospitalization

Hi @Chachadepapel‍, thank you for opening this discussion!

Can anyone share their experience with hospitalization or in-patient treatment for bipolar disorder? What was your experience like? How and when did you know it was time to seek help?
@Buzzysour‍ @Ashhole‍ @Believe4244‍ @Mimi56‍ @Tbirdtuck‍ @Blessings‍ @Kruseshannon‍ @MessyMouse‍ @jjmom1‍ @Mroberts‍ @Slwhitmyer85‍ @Michellem‍ @Tanja31‍ @Peekai‍ @Racin2God‍ @Victorious‍ @Ajustice07‍ @delvaughn‍ @Lulu77‍ 

Don't hestiate to share with us here!

Take care,
Courtney

In 1980 I was still drinking alcohol rather heavily.  I was drunk when I decided I had had enough of life.  I had so many different psych drugs that I can't  remember them all in order to list them. I know I took prozac for about a decade. Then the doctor added abilify.  I had gained about a hundred pounds in the year I took Prozac and I did not care.  I didn't care about ANYTHING because that is what Prozac does. You are deliriously happy all the time.  If my best friend had died I would have went to the funeral but  I would not have cried because I did not cry about anything at all then. Prozac paints everything is beautiful.  It was my happy pill. I am off track.  I had left the entrance door open at my apartment building and my apartment door as well.  My neighbor  downstairs came home.  She called up to me asking what  I was doing.  I calmly told her I was committing suicide. Carol happens to be a therapist and her skill at talking me into going to the hospital worked.  I had already ate a lot of those pills.  I was kept in the hospital only three days.  I was released with a diagnosis of bipolar 2. St, Francis wasn't such a bad place. I didn't like the fact that the floor is locked and you can walk the halls all day long if you want but you can't get out of the ward. There were people there that were drugged out to the max.  I saw hands twitching and tongues jutting with weird abnormal movements.  I don't know what the heck they were taking but I sure don't want any. They expect you to show up for groups always.  I was bothered about a group in session while I was trying to wash my clothes.  Yes, they had machines there!  I went to an outpatient thing where you go in and do whatever in the day but go home at night.  I couldn't see where that was helping anybody  and since it was voluntary I left.  I couldn't get my depression meds filled then so I had to cold turkey off them.  Fast forward to November 1999.  I had been throwing prescription pills bottles in a bag to take back when they have those drug take back days.  I always missed them and I don't know why I go to a doctor at all because I don't like medication.  I refuse to take drugs except marijuana. Your primary care doctor is bound to find something to prescribe pills for. Hell they nearly killed me with metformin and victroza.  I am not even frickin diabetic!  The Victroza made me depressed and I was told to stop it when I reported pain in my back. I stopped shooting that crap into my body and immediately soared manic as I have ever been. Up and down and all around town for all summer long.  Then I crashed,  Hard.  I took a lot of pills from that take back bag.  Then I texted a man who I never told I love him and I just needed to do that for WHAT? You don't need to tell somebody that you love them because they know it already by the way you treat them. I came to in Mercy Hospital restrained.  I had a dang tube up my nose that was driving me nuts.  I could barely reach my nose because of the arm restraints.  It took them forever to remove that tube.  The pic line was in so long that it was healing around it.  When I ask for about the tenth time to remover it and was about to do it myself but could not because there was always a sitter watching me, they finally did and were talking out loud as if I couldn't hear them about how it had been in place too long!  It was humiliating to have those ladies wash my whole body when I was able to walk at this point.  I was in the ICU for a week and in some private room for another week. They came for blood much too often and half of them didn't know what they were doing.  I refused to let anybody but Drew, the phlebotomist do that.  When they finally let me take a shower I looked in the mirror and ask for scissors.  I don't know how that girl managed to comb that mess of hair that was longer than my bra line.  She used conditioner and time and gently combed it out.  All of the people who work at Mercy were very good to me.  The psychiatrist was going to 302 me from there to another hospital.  That place held me for thirteen days.  I saw a lot of drug addicts there and actual crazy people, really gone people.  It was awful because the rooms were exactly like a jail cell.  The mattress bottomed out  so I had to sleep on hard steel,   They changed my room three times for some reason. It was so cold in there we all walked around  with blankets.  The groups are not in any way helpful to anybody but man you had better be there!  I hated the whole situation.  This was my fourth attempt to murder myself.  I near succeeded .  I am not suicidal anymore but I am angry still that I am still alive.  I want to die. My life without medications is very hard.  However I have tried so many psych drugs it is unbelievable.  I recently turned 65  and my insurance changed to medicare.  My shrink wont accept that form of payment and wants 100.00 cash to see him.  I am out of my meds.  I went to a place and went through all the intake questions (aren't they strange?) When I saw the psychiatrist  l was told they do not prescribe benzos.  I have been on one or another of them for thirty years.  I bid her good bye and thanks for your time!  I apologize for the ramble.  Thanks for reading this all to those who made it through my prolix post.

I’ve been hospitalized every year since 2008 almost. For at least 7 days. Suicidal thoughts. The VA won’t change my lithium. 

what about outpatient hospitalization? has anyone been through this?