The Many Locked Doors

Author: siggy

What I remember about Greystone (going back forty years) is the locked doors.  Each one led to another dismal ward.  Of course, I did not have any of the keys.  I had no freedom.  Everything was taken away from me.  I was told when to get up, when to eat and what medications I had to take.  In those days when you were in a manic state they always pumped you up with Thorazine, which was a real “downer”.  It felt like punishment.  It was not even my fault.  Almost all the drugs to treat bipolar disorder now did not exist then.  I remember very well having almost all my civil rights taken away from me.  There was not even a phone on the ward.  I needed special permission to go downstairs and make a call.  I was treated like a prisoner.  Those were some of the memories I had of my hospitalization.