When I tell people I have been in a psychiatric hospital, I dread their response.

I was a young and happy 12-year-old girl trying to get by with everything going right in her life… or so everyone assumed. People often ask me about growing up and what my early teenage years were like and I honestly dread telling the truth. I was sectioned and hospitalised in a psychiatric hospital for the first time when I was just that 12-year-old girl. When I tell people I have been in a psychiatric hospital, I dread their response…the pause that they take or even the silence that’s just left there lingering in the air. After this conversation, peoples’ expressions begin to quickly shift and judgment begins. People don’t know what to say or they just say too much.

It’s as if the words “I’ve been sectioned” define me as person. But they don’t. And they never ever will.

Just because I was sectioned and hospitalised for my mental health, that doesn’t mean I am weak or crazy or even worse dangerous. My admission to hospital was just a small chapter of my story, NOT the whole book. All it means is that there was a time in my life where I needed a little bit more specialised support and there’s absolutely NO SHAME in that. However, due to society’s misconceptions I believed there was something wrong with it and that I should be ashamed of it. Society has and continues to not allow people to speak completely openly about mental health and mental illness due to the ongoing stigma surrounding this and the negative connotations that would be placed on poor vulnerable individuals.

Image ref: PolarNE

Before I went into hospital, I was petrified of the unknown. I had so many fears and doubts and ideas of what it would be like to stay in an inpatient unit. Films, tv shows, the news, headlines and media portray these hospitals in such disgusting and unrealistic ways. I was so worried that I would get judged if someone found out where I was. I was so scared that by needing extra support and by having to be admitted that I had almost failed in a way. On reflection, I wish someone would have told me that needing help is not the same as giving up. Hospital was never going to cure me or be a magic fix. But at that time, it gave me safety and support and a chance to become myself again slowly but surely. This does not mean that all experiences have been positive – some come out feeling cared about and some come out having said their admission was more difficult. It is down to everyone’s own different experiences.

One of the hardest parts for me was the instant worry of judgement and not being accepted or being seen as completely different. I was petrified what everyone would think of me. These fears are caused from societies stigmas. These stigmas can have real consequences and can cause people to not reach out. No one should choose between getting help and support that they need to get better or protecting themselves and their identities from shame.

If you are reading this and you’ve experienced hospitalisation, I want you to know and keep reminding yourself that:

• Your story doesn’t end with your admission
• Your hospital stay doesn’t define you
• Recovery isn’t a straight line and it takes time

image ref RPParchitects

Breaking the stigma around inpatient units and hospitalisation for mental health starts with topics of conversations like this. It starts when we start speaking louder about mental health and stop whispering about the struggles, we need to speak up! It starts when we replace judgment with understanding. We must remember that every person who has been hospitalised for their mental health is still human. And those humans deserve compassion, love, respect and hope just like anyone else would <3