The doctors at Payne Whitney ended up diagnosing me with Schizoaffective Disorder. Schizoaffective Disorder is ‘a mental disorder in which a person experiences a combination of schizophrenia symptoms such as hallucinations or delusions, and mood disorder symptoms, such as depression or mania’ (Mayo Clinic). I think that was a pretty silly diagnosis for them to give me considering my reality testing was perfect and some of the ‘psychotic’ symptoms they were observing could be accounted for by my developmental disability but I guess they felt they had to settle on a diagnosis and Schizoaffective Disorder was the best they could come up with.
Mental illness on its own can be hard enough to understand and autism spectrum disorder on its own can be hard enough to understand. Put the two of them together and people are often completely baffled even though it is common for the two to go hand in hand. The fact that the doctors were so convinced that I was experiencing hallucinations and delusions convinced me that they did not understand me, although I could hardly blame them for not understanding me when I didn’t even understand me ( I may have expressed those thoughts in previous episodes of this mental illness saga but now that we’re on episode 7 it’s hard for me to keep track of what I’ve said and I feel like they’re thoughts that are worth repeating anyway.)
Years later a friend asked me if I found my stay at Payne Whitney to be helpful. I think it was helpful to me only in the sense that it was a holding zone. Since it was clear that the doctors there could not understand me I certainly didn’t think they could help me. They were not giving the kind of help I needed and I was not in a frame of mind in which I was receptive to help so there wasn’t much hope of me making progress.
As I said, I don’t remember much of anything that happened while I was there so it’s possible there were individual therapy sessions in which caring therapists tried to get to the heart of my issues and my mind just has no record of it, but I get the impression the doctors spent a lot more time talking about me than talking to me. I got the impression that I was more a patient/case study to them than a human being they cared about. For me and I’m sure for many others as well knowing that the person who’s assigned to help you really cares about you is the first and most important component necessary for healing.
I suppose it’s silly and unrealistic of me to expect a warm, caring atmosphere in a mental hospital but some mental hospitals are better than others. Some mental hospitals do provide individual therapy with caring professionals and encourage the loved ones who visit the mental patients to hug and touch them.There may have been good reasons behind Payne Whitney’s no touching policy but I really have to question the wisdom of enforcing such a policy. Hugs and loving touch have been proven to be beneficial for mental health and a source of comfort to those who are suffering. Being deprived of loving touch has been proven to be detrimental to one’s mental health. I do realize that there’s no one size fits all rule and that some people are bothered by being touched but it seems a shame to have a blanket policy that’s harmful to the many people who want and need to be touched.
Another thing I have no memory of is ever going outside. Again, it’s possible it did happen and it’s possible it wasn’t feasible to let me outside but being deprived of fresh air cannot be good for the mind, body or soul.
I also have to question the wisdom of giving me antipsyschotics. I was being given a potent drug with adverse side effects intended to treat a disorder I did not actually have. I’m not going to jump on the “Big pharma is evil and destroying peoples’ minds and bodies for the sake of profit” bandwagon because I think psychotropic medication has helped a lot of people and I have certainly been helped by some of the medications I took but this was an example of medication being prescribed inappropriately.
I was talking to a relative of mine in Europe who had a very different experience at a mental hospital. His was a mental hospital where the patients were allowed to roam the grounds outside, use the internet, take pictures and have sexual relations. My relative was wondering which system was better. I don’t know which system is better but I do know that the state of mental health care in the U.S. is deeply flawed and broken. What I went through at Payne Whitney and at the treatment center I was is not unusual and it’s not one of the more horrifying stories out there.
I was in Payne Whitney for about six weeks but you could have told me I was there for six days or six months and I wouldn’t have known the difference. I had lost all sense of time. When the doctors decided to release me it wasn’t so much because I’d improved as because they didn’t know what else they could do for me.
They weren’t sure what should be done for me after I was released either. There was talk of sending me to a day treatment program and there was talk of sending me to a program for the mentally ill that was located on a farm, in which the residents helped to take care of plants and animals. I love animals so the farm program seemed like a good option for me but I was deemed to be too unstable for it.
Just like I have no memory of the day I entered Payne Whitney, I have no memory of the day I was released. I do know that the doctors said there was a good chance I would end up having to return at some point.