Some features of Russian psychiatry

Marina, 22 years old, student

I am sure that everything would cost the usual consultation: I had a session, nothing happened, constant stress, fatigue ... Then I turned to the doctor for advice - I talked about my depression, that everything is going wrong and hard for me. He immediately said: "Let's hospitalize you, you have big problems." I was terribly scared and asked - this will help, is it necessary? He nodded. I was immediately taken from the clinic. I then really trusted the doctors ...

I was brought to the hospital, they gave me a dressing gown, because they did not have civilian clothes. They made an injection. Usually, a person is brought to the hospital, chopped down with drugs, and he sleeps for several days. When you come out of sleep, you just lie and examine the cracked white ceiling. You can’t leave the hospital - in our hospital it was a huge room for several dozen people, nannies sat there and watched your every movement.

In the hospital, I met a lady who told me that she was taking haloperidol - the cheapest and spray person of a medicine, from which a lot of side effects are a lot of side effects. In Soviet times, when they put in hospitals for political reasons, all people were given precisely haloperidol. She had a side effect from the medicine-literally her eyes somehow crawled out of her orbits. And she could no longer take the drug, it was prescribed by psychotherapists a few years ago. And it was a vicious circle. She was prescribed, she began to drink this medicine, and there are such consequences, she has a fright, hysteria ... She is put again.

We also had a woman from Ryazan, from the factory, very lively, her laughter is like you to tell you - a real one, or something. She worked for several years almost seven days a week, she was very exhausted, and did not give a vacation. Her friend was a orderly in our hospital and once told her: come to us, take you sick leave, rest from us, you will be like in a sanatorium. She was put in a hospital. They also stuffed with pills - she understood and did not swallow everything, just laying it out by the cheek and then spit it out. But the acquaintance unexpectedly disappeared, there was no one to write it out, and instead of a week she spent much more in the hospital. Her sister constantly went to the main doctor, talked, tried to explain something. As a result, she was nevertheless discharged, but I think it was not without money.

When, after discharge, I came to the hospital for pieces of paper, the smell of hospital food, which were creaming things, unwashed bodies, hit my nose.

I stayed in a mental hospital for 40 days. Cigarettes that friends occasionally brought quickly ended, so I constantly wanted to smoke. And for a smoking in a psychiatric hospital you can do anything: wash corridors, toilets, wear food, well, and clean one after another-someone will be sick, someone will not wait to be taken to the toilet. The orderlings are speculated on cigarettes-most often these are women who are somewhat similar to the conductor, grumbling, dissatisfied with life. They are not worried about who you are, what are you, because of what you were in the hospital.

Due to the lack of activity, I myself washed the toilets and cleaned in the wards just like that-it was very difficult for me to do nothing for days. In general, so he went through a course of treatment for depression ...

When I left the hospital, cheap tablets were prescribed to me, then there was a bunch of side effects from them. I had to buy a corrective product that costs ten times more. When, after discharge, I came to the hospital for pieces of paper, the smell of hospital foods that were cave -like, unwashed bodies hit my nose ... And I realized that I would never return here - even if they are forcibly picking me up, I will do everything in the world so that this does not happen ...

Has this treatment helped me? If only as shock therapy. This is just a matter of money - if you want to deal with your problems, you can not go to a budget institution. It is better to accumulate money and leave, for example, to Thailand. They told me that there is warm and everyone is happy, everyone rejoices in life and love each other.

Tanya, 21 years old, philologist

In a psychiatric hospital, I was because of a standard family quarrel. We assisted greatly with my elderly aunt: swearing, screams, all things ... She got angry at me and called an ambulance on emotions. Actually, before that I had never encountered mental hospitals and drank sedatives only a few times when I was annoyed because of some nonsense.

It seemed to me that everything would end in a conversation with a doctor, the maximum would give pills. But I was sent to the hospital. I come - and there is a giant department.

I remember how the girl was brought to me - and when she did not give consent for the examination, the doctor on duty said that in this situation, the decision would be made through the court and then she will have to lie here for more than one month. Literally a few minutes later, the new phenazepa was already injected. Later I found out that this is such a tradition: the person who has just been brought is not allowed to come to their senses and understand what is happening at all.

I was against the examination. Why on earth? Doctors also threatened me with a court. At the same time, the tests showed that my morphine is in my blood. It was a complete delirium! My neighbor in a hospital in the body found another drug - amphetamine. And she is a believer, modest, calm, she later told me that she had practically not left the apartment lately, read all day. Relatives who were tired of living with a strange granddaughter were sent to the psychiatric hospital. So, after the results of the tests, she really began to demolish the roof: she remembered that she had bought a hot dog in a kiosk, and thought that, probably, there was an amphetamine there, about which the doctors repeated about.

The orderlies were the most strict with the old women. They were tied to beds - they cut the fabric on long strips and intertwined, this is called “knitting”.

Lonely women of middle and elderly often become prisoners of the hospital. Nobody will look for such - hold them in the hospital as much as you like! There was a forty -year -old Katya in our hospital, she simply did not understand what was happening. She was sent to the psychiatric hospital who wanted to take a room in a communal apartment, where she lived alone. Katya had no relatives, no one came to her in the hospital. When I was already discharged, Katya still remained there.

The orderlies and nurses were the most strict with the old women. When they behaved too persistently or simply complained about a headache, they were tied to beds or chairs - they cut the fabric on long strips and intertwined with each other, this is called “knitting”. On the “bastards” there was constantly, for example, the grandmother of Klava, but she always repeated: “Nothing, my grandchildren will come - they will figure it out. I have a director. " The locals later told me that it was the grandchildren who sent her to the psychiatric hospital in order to calmly live in a grandmother’s apartment. She really loved hard dining rooms and always wanted to eat.

While I was in the hospital, friends constantly brought the doctors to the doctors about my “normality” from the institute and clinic. And a week later, Aunt came to her senses and began to ask for my discharge herself. As a result, the tests were invalidated, and I was sent home.

Even now, I constantly think about the people who remained in this psychiatric hospital. It is very difficult to realize that you are “free”, and they most likely never be on it.

Oleg, 26 years old, journalist

I studied at the evening, earned - what an army, what is it about? And then the call, they sent the summons ... In the evening I put on with friends in the entrance, and the next day I went to the military enlistment office. A medical examination began: the optometrist shows the letter - instead of Russian I call Latin. He writes: "Good." I stand on the scales and see that the mark on them is not true: my real 52 kilograms turned into 65 in a strange way. They say: “Go, hero!” In short, I fucked up with a hangover and I think: the first doctor to ask how to do is very surprised at my answer ...

I came to the brainwater. "Well, young man, what will you tell you an interesting?" And with a hangover dramatic pathos, I begin to talk about the fact that people are a herd of rams, I do not like them all, I am infuriated, I want to commit suicide - pure improvisation, I swear. The doctor handed over to the hospital.

I thought everything at home, came to the military registration and enlistment office the next day and said that everything went and actually I want in the Airborne Forces. And to me: “Ah, did you change your mind? Well, we will fix it now! " And lead me to an individual. The specialist says: "Once they directed to be treated - go treat." I was taken to the hospital directly from the military registration and enlistment office.

The contingent in a psychiatric hospital was divided into four categories: the first - the most neutral - Erwecashniki (from RVK, that is, the district military registration and enlistment office. - Ed. ), Those who thought of mowing from the army even to the army. The second is the soldiers who came to the army, they did not like the army, they came to the platoon and said something like: “Comrade sergeant, my voice now says: take a knife and cut everyone here.” Such from the unit is immediately sent to a psychiatric hospital. The third category, also quite numerous, are alkonauts. Well, the last group is really people with serious diagnoses.

Vitalik, a local Erugashek, immediately explained to me the local regulations: if you are new, you will have to wash the toilet, because this is such a tradition. If you refuse, you will receive kicks from the orderlies. I was lucky: by the evening the next patient came - he washed the toilet. Vitalik also said that if it is good to behave, not to mow and how to gest, that is, to perform small orders of the nurse, they whisper to the main doctor: they say, dick there with his analyzes - from the army you can excel.

The treatment itself was nothing. I was taken for examinations, on the rest of the days they forced me to go to labor therapy, where we cleared the road from snow all day. The shower was once a week - it’s fat to wash more often at the state expense. Everyone was built naked, sprinkled with some powder, then poured out of the hose. So that lice does not start.

Once I ran for nurses to the store in complete Dorodoma vestment. “Go,” they say, “buy sausages, what a brandy.” I was looking for a store for a long time, but I bought everything. So the nurses then whispered for me for me. And they released me.

In the medical record, I have been looking for a mark for a long time that I had time so wonderful-probably some restrictions were relying: we can’t give out weapons or, maybe, with rights that ... there were no marks anywhere.

I do not think that with such an attitude of staff, people with real diseases have a chance to get some help in a psychiatric hospital. There was a guy with epilepsy among us - Dima, a student Rudn, so smiling, pretty. He often had attacks. The staff did nothing.

In general, a psychiatric hospital is a place where you can get off from the army or, for example, to join - to lie down for literary memoirs. Although no, you don’t have to make fun of: one injection of cyclodol - and you can become another person.

Sveta, 35 years old, editor

I came to Moscow from a small city, met a successful designer. We got married, a daughter was born. It seemed that we had a bright future ahead. And after a few years of family life, our house burned in the suburbs, which we built ourselves. For a very long time they saved him, put his soul. Before our eyes, everything burned to the ground.

There were no rear: parents for thousands of kilometers, there is nowhere else to go. We rented an apartment on the outskirts of Moscow. They tried to somehow forget what happened, to start living again. Nothing happened.

It was very difficult for me and my husband: you make blood and then earn, achieve the cherished goal, and now you are discarded five years ago. Relations were spoiled, there were no prospects for the future. I became very nervous, constantly worried: where to live on, how to get a good job, how to give my daughter to school? Depression began. Soon my husband left, the child and I were left alone, without normal housing. Without nothing.

At one point in despair, when I was completely scared for our future, I decided to call the confidence service in order to at least tell someone about my problems and hear advice. The daughter was just at school, so I could speak out. When I called the service, I accidentally made a mistake with the number - I got into Sotosopek, but it turned out later. I immediately said to the operator that we alone live with a little daughter in a rented apartment, with the work of the problem and I am worried about our future. At the other end of the wire, I was asked to urgently report my address.

After 20 minutes, the doorbell bell - there are three police officers. They said that Sotosopeki directed them to find out how we live. They entered, saw that everything was fine in the apartment, but still they began to draw up a protocol. I tried to explain the situation to them, what I heard: “Maybe you need pills to calm down? Let's call a psychotherapist. ” I said several times that I did not need, but the policeman insisted.

Half an hour later, two men arrived in white robes - the local ambulance team. They immediately began to offer me an injection and hospitalization. I refused again, but they began to insist. Then I was completely indignant and already raised my voice: “What do you allow yourself? Let's leave me alone! " They did not like it much, and one of them said: "The issue is resolved with you - you are going to the hospital."

I remember my hands broke me. I tried to say something, but I realized that it was useless. In the ambulance, my legs were tied. On the way to the hospital, they said that if I do not sign consent to treatment, then they will treat me by court, by force. What was left to do? I signed everything. I stayed in the hospital for two weeks, we constantly sat in the wards and drank some pills. Of course, none of the doctors said what kind of medicine they give me. I have already left for a long time, but I would never want to get to this place again.

Andrey, 30 years old, teacher

I fell into despondency after parting with my beloved, my wife, everywhere I began to see one negative, lost confidence in myself. Soon I realized that this was all complete crap, and decided to go to the psychotherapist. I was immediately diagnosed with “personality disorder” and sent to the hospital. I was still surprised - what kind of nonsense, such a diagnosis can be made by any person in a big city!

Already in the hospital, health workers asked me what happened. I replied that my wife left me and I was depressed. "Well, fine, you will be left here." A whore of drugs began - the local guys and I often sat in the smoking room and discussed what they gave: “Oh, it would take off from this wheel now!” If the mixture was given - then everything, you are an ass.

They began to produce boiling water only at 12 days, and the rise was at 7 in the morning (if your turn was washed by the ward, then you had to get up even earlier). The water was catastrophically few, not everyone was enough. Once I decided to pour my boiling water for myself, and the nurses to me: "Water for staff, not for fools!"

There were many ordinary guys-for example, a dude who was baked due to a cut on the leg. The ambulance decided that he was a suicide, and he accidentally injured a broken bottle somewhere on the street. The dude, by the way, is very adequate, such a pleasant codel from St. Petersburg. He repeatedly tried to explain to the doctors that he had cut off by accident, but they did not listen to him.

The most curious in a psychiatric hospital is an abundance of convicts that surrender there themselves. Such guys with doctors have a special relationship.

Many nurses simply did not understand how to communicate with patients. I remember lying there a dude with paranoia. He once says:

“I'm afraid of her.”

- Who are you afraid of? - asks the orderly.

- Her.

- Whom?

- Well, there is a death.

And then by chance a call at the door-someone just went into the department.

“Oh, you hear,” says the orderly, “is she wandering?” Well, put on some blouse, otherwise it is indecent to sit like that when guests ...

The most curious in a psychiatric hospital is an abundance of convicts that surrender there themselves. There was such a healthy plow, a very young guy. I somehow ask him: "Listen, how did you end up here?" -"Yes, I hide: I will arrange robbery somewhere, and then-bam-and under the fool." The convicts in the hospital were not in face value, they went ahead once a week. Such guys with doctors have a special relationship.

But in general-I somehow talked with a young doctor, and he explained that there is an old school of doctors, but there is a new one. The old school is to stab. Make a vegetable out of a person. There is no rehabilitation, socialization, nothing like that. Doctors of the new school, they say, are completely different, more humane, or something. But I personally did not meet such.

At the exit, I was prescribed a wild number of tablets. I took them for a week, and then threw them - after these drugs it began to break and paranate.

And personally, I did not need to recover, I just had to recover. And in this case, a person needs support, and not all these bullying.