What can you expect from a one-week psychiatric stay in North Carolina? Unfortunately, it often amounts to a few bottles of medication and a brief summary of the most challenging experience of your life.
When my partner and I dropped off our son, Ethan, at a psychiatric facility three hours from home after his severe psychotic episode at school, we were overwhelmed with anxiety and heartache. Following a grueling 256-hour wait, we found ourselves in a car listening to our favorite podcast to distract ourselves.
Our time with him was limited to a brief 10-minute visit, during which he pleaded with us not to leave. His eyes were red and puffy from lack of sleep and the weight of his emotions. I reassured him that I would write him daily, expressed my love for him, and reiterated our previous conversations about the situation.
Him: “It feels like I’m being punished.”
Me: “It’s not a punishment; it’s a consequence. You remember why you’re here.”
Him: “Yeah.”
Me: “We want to prevent what happened at school from happening again, right?”
Him: “Yeah.”
Ethan displayed an unexpected bravery; he’s not typically one to show his feelings. However, in the days that followed, I witnessed him cry more than I ever had before. These were genuine tears, not the fleeting kind, and it broke my heart to see him in such distress.
We filled out paperwork in a daze, standing in the parking lot trying to process what just happened. This was a child who had never been away from home for an extended period. Sleepovers had only ever been at the homes of understanding friends and family. He wasn’t allowed any comfort items; everything was seen as a potential danger. No staples, hardcover books, or strings.
I understand the necessity of stringent precautions for safety, but the facility’s lack of empathy toward parents was bewildering. It felt as if we were signing him over to a penal institution rather than a place for healing. Communication was severely limited—two phone calls a week for five minutes and a mere 20-minute visit on Sundays.
Throughout this ordeal, I’ve come to realize that assisting children with mental health issues is a collective effort. However, the facility in Jacksonville didn’t seem to share that belief. Over the past month, I have juggled numerous doctor appointments, followed up with various psychiatrists, and tried to navigate a complicated medication situation. After being prescribed the wrong medication, Ethan experienced severe side effects, and it was only through our pediatrician’s intervention that we discovered the error. We were in a constant state of trying to stabilize him until he starts at a new facility in two weeks.
In short, while at the psychiatric facility, Ethan was heavily medicated with antipsychotics, experienced significant emotional turmoil, and was discharged without meaningful insight into his condition. Our discharge process lasted only four minutes. I sent letters daily, but he didn’t receive a single one until just before his release. We learned that some of his clothing wasn’t allowed, leaving him in the same tattered shorts throughout his stay. Unfortunately, the few comforts we requested never reached him.
While some staff members were genuinely helpful, most communicated with us as if we were adversaries.
Feeling Overwhelmed
Not long ago, my partner and I recognized that despite our education, love, and efforts, we were outmatched by Ethan’s mental illness, particularly his Disruptive Mood Dysregulation Disorder (DMDD). DMDD is a relatively new diagnosis, and I often explain it to others like this: Ethan has a vehicle, but he only has two ways to operate it. He can either move slowly with minimal effort or accelerate to a dangerous speed. The transition from calm to furious is rapid and treacherous for him.
We are in a complicated relationship with Ethan’s mental health challenges. He is our son, and we aren’t going anywhere. We are committed to helping him navigate this journey. When he called me from the facility, his voice breaking with emotion, he expressed, “Mom, I miss you so much.” It was a realization for him that he truly missed me, the parent he may have thought was just along for the ride.
This experience has left him terrified of doctor’s offices. Just getting him through a single pediatric visit has become a monumental task. While he expresses love more often now, he continues to struggle daily. Sometimes, it’s a minute-to-minute process, and predicting outcomes feels impossible.
We had hoped for help and compassion, but instead, we faced discouragement and the painful reminder that this journey is just beginning. Was it worth it? No. The psychiatric bed stay was largely unproductive. While not every facility is like this, the healthcare system often leaves parents with little choice.
A Broken System
The reality is that the system is failing our children—those from all backgrounds and walks of life. It’s especially concerning for families without the resources to navigate this daunting landscape. What I witnessed at Ethan’s facility felt more like preparation for incarceration than healing.
We have been fortunate to have the support of Hope Creek Academy over the past four years. During a conversation with someone from the North Carolina Hospital Association, I finally articulated what I had long felt: Hope Creek Academy gave my son a childhood that so many kids with mental health challenges miss out on. The struggle within public schools can be exhausting, and the joy of learning is often overshadowed by the challenges faced by children like Ethan.
We didn’t prevent a psychotic break, nor did we cure his mental illness. However, we are committed to providing him with understanding and support from teachers and peers who genuinely care.
While we cannot fix the healthcare system overnight, we can advocate for better educational institutions like Hope Creek Academy and the Wright School. We can push for more funding to help those who cannot afford tuition and need assistance.
My advice to any parent in a similar situation is to find your community. Seek out those who understand your struggles. You may not always find support in family, but it’s essential to connect with others who share your experience. Together, we can demand improved education and healthcare for our children. They deserve more than just fleeting moments of childhood; they deserve the support they need to thrive.
For more information on navigating similar challenges, consider checking out this excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination, and read more on this topic at Modern Family Blog.