If You’re Going to Be Crazy, Might As Well Be Batshit

woman in gray tank top
Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Things were going reasonably good… right up until they weren’t.

So, the fun began when my psychiatrist was being a fucking pussy about ordering certain things for me. I had told him that I wanted him to do certain things, and provided research support to back it up. One thing was to order high dose vitamin B6 to counteract my lithium-induced tremor. I provided a research paper, and I’ve taken that dose before with no issues. In addition to that, I wanted to go up on my Cytomel (thyroid hormone) to the dose I’d been on before. But no, he was a fucking pussy and too scared to order it. At least he told me that he was iffy on the Cytomel. He didn’t tell me about the B6, and I discovered when the nurse came to offer me 10% of the dose I should have been getting.

So I told them fuck it, I was done, and I wanted to leave. So they insisted on making me wait to see the on-call psychiatrist. This old bat was fucking loopier than I was. She told me she was going to certify me under the Mental Health Act because I seemed to be “dissociating.” What the actual fuck? I was not in any way dissociating, and I told her so. Dumb cunt certified me anyway.

So that was the end of me cooperating with anything. I didn’t take my hs (bedtime) meds, which meant I didn’t sleep, and I was up all night with the mice (of which there’s a clan of at least 3). The day staff that came on said I “refused” ECT this morning, but the fucking pansy-ass night staff were scared of me and didn’t say anything to me. It’s hard to “refuse” something when the staff aren’t talking to you.

Shitty timing, as my pansy ass psychiatrist is off today, so I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to fight to not have a second certificate done and be allowed to go against medical advice. About all I have to say to the staff is that they can go fuck themselves.

So that’s what’s going on in my world. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll have an update that I’m out of here.

The post Cell Phones on Psych Wards—Yea or Nay? is the hub for all psychiatric hospitalization-related content on Mental Health @ Home.

70 thoughts on “If You’re Going to Be Crazy, Might As Well Be Batshit”

  1. I have been in the same position as you before, the only bad part in my case was there was no way I could get on a computer and post anything about it… but what I found out is that they just don’t understand our anger when they don’t listen. They seem to think that everyone should always listen to everything they say with no questions asked, but when you react with anger to this it always seems they back off and won’t help at all. I don’t know why there still is noone that can come into the psych industry and change any of this yet but until they change, we may just have to play their game. I’m sorry ur frustrated and angry at them, but I just want u to know ur not the only one that’s seen this kind of thing happen, I had it happen when I was in One North Psych Hospital and Spotsylvania Hospital too. Much Love!!!

  2. Agreed, best to be the batshit kind of crazy if someone’s gonna be crazy anyway 🤷🏻‍♀️
    Looking forward to the update tomorrow that says you made it out. I am and always will be pissed on your behalf of the fucked up staff thats “working” there. It really is unacceptable.

  3. I know the lies staff can tell on inpatient units. They don’t like it when a patient can think for themselves. They want you to be submissive. If you want more treatments you might have to wait until your discharged for the B vitamin and Cytomel. Sorry you missed a treatment this morning. Unfortunately your at their mercy unless you can sign yourself out. 💕

  4. I am really sorry to read that your stay took a turn for the worse. It’s scary how they can lie about patients and get away with it, so scary! I’m really sorry you’re having to put up with it.
    I do hope things get better for you soon and your regular doctor can sort things back out. I’m keeping you in my prayers!

  5. Why is it that any kind of diagnosis means “you don’t know what you need. I know better. See the ‘MD’ at the end of my name? I am superior!” Grrrrr. Annoying. So sorry you are going through this. Fly and be free tomorrow is my highest and best wish for you, Ashley. Or more succinctly: GTFO (get the F out) and don’t look back! 😉

  6. It sounds like it was a really shitty day and just got worse as it rolled along. I have very little patience with incompetent health professionals, whether they are mental or physical practitioners. Sorry you had to deal with a whole cluster of them instead of just one. You did show restraint in not asking the old bird to define ‘dissociative’ for you because she clearly didn’t know the definition! If you truly feel that your treatment isn’t up to what you deserve, and you volunteered to go there to start with, those ‘professionals’ really
    My don’t have any say, do they? My sympathies are with you!

  7. Holy cow! Angry women – yeah, we are SO dangerous. Insult our intelligence, patronize us, dismiss our concerns, and dare to think they know us better than we know ourselves – you think it’s bad now? Wait till you get old. I do not believe all this crap you’re dealing, but then again – I do. It sucks that you don’t have a knowledgeable person to help advocate with/for you. This whole thing sucks farts!

  8. It’s crappy how you’re being treated like you don’t know what’s best, even though you’ve had past experience with this and even supplied research. Some doctors have a “holier than thou” demeaner and don’t accept anything input from their patients. It’s truly a disservice they’re providing 😕

  9. Ugh I’m so sorry you had to deal with this. I’m infuriated on your behalf. Why doctors don’t take peoples treatment preferences into consideration is beyond me. And that sounds like mental health gaslighting. I think. I’m not sure I completely understand the term. Either way, that fucking sucks. I’d go batshit too 🦇

  10. This is so fucked up.
    I was admitted once and even though I was a preauthorized admit I never expected the ER to take so long to get me up to the floor, there wasn’t a psychiatrist on the floor until the next morning.
    Even though the one in the ER had my entire record and knew exactly what I was taking, they would not give me anything besides Valium (useless for me)
    So I sat at the nurses station for the entire night Watching intently at everything they did. I was like, you won’t let me sleep, I am not moving until I see the doctor.
    On the bat shit side, not that it would help your cause at this point….
    You could make friends with the mice and introduce them to the staff.
    I like fucking with people who find it necessary to fuck with people trapped under their control.

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: