My sleep was horrible because they would crack the door open in these little intervals to make sure I wasn't hurting myself throughout the night. The beds were so stiff that I formed bruises on my hips, I am only able to sleep on my side.
Bored stiff. Didn't want me to sit in my bed and read books, they wanted me to be out and interacting with people. I befriended a girl and went on walks with her to look normal. Just absolutely nothing to do.
No conditioner, only shampoo. I couldn't brush my hair because I only had this very thin and fine comb that my hair is too thick for. I took the advice of my walking friend to just get my hair wet and to not comb it, and it will look the best just leaving it be. This felt bad.
I liked my prison clothes to be honest.
I am on a medication that they wouldn't give me and wouldn't do anything about no matter how much I protested. The head psychiatrist said "I can see that this is very important to you", but they wouldn't let me have my meds. It's not a recreational drug or anything psychoactive, it's hormone replacement and something I need physically. One of the nurses was on my side and was trying to fight for me to have them, but I told him to give up after a few days. I spent 3 weeks there experiencing symptoms of discontinuing my medication. I was having hot flashes, mood swings, fatigue etc.. This made it much more urgent for me to get out. This felt like something I maybe could have sued over, I don't know how illegal this was. This is the main reason why I consider it torture and why I will never go back.
The food was horrible slop. Most people had horrible table manners and I couldn't stomach eating next to these people. I am misophonic and they just ate so disgustingly. I lied and said I was vegetarian so I could live off milk, fruit trays, and salads. It was how I avoided their disgusting meals. They lined us up like prisoners to march us to the cafeteria.
Some of the staff were good people. Others were awful. One of my counselors spent the entire session with me talking about herself. Her therapy classes I attended in order to get out faster, were 80% something about her life. She treated us as a captive audience to share her blog. She was not doing her job at all. But she liked me. You could tell some people got off on their authority and power, and liked commanding people. We were herded like animals or prisoners.
One inmate kept trying to bully me the entire time. The staff wouldn't do anything about it. I saw this with other people too. One lady was being harassed by another lady, provoked, name called, shouted at, and the staff just told this woman to "Be the bigger person" instead of doing anything about the harasser. I felt sorry for her. She was in tears about being kept up all night by a roommate who talks to herself,
Got roped into this "women only interpretive dancing" thing with my friend. The lady running it tracked me down to my room and made me attend it. It was very unnecessary and embarrassing, but we were all embarrassed together.
The head psychiatrist made me sign a voluntary stay thing, on the threat that she could get a judge to order me inside and my stay could be months instead of 3 weeks.
I tried to play badminton with this kid in the gym. One of the staff members was cheering for me as if I was intellectually disabled or 7 years old.
It didn't help. Within a week of getting out I walked the train tracks for 6 hours waiting for a train to come for me to jump in front of. I felt horrible for months afterwards.
