A jail where they lock you up and throw away the key
A place where you have no rights
A place where you are restrained or medicated so heavily you can hardly speak
A place that makes you talk about everything all the time
A holding cell
A place where people scream and yell and moan all day
A place where they fix you
A place where once you go you’re cured and can then get out and be completely better
A magic cure
What the hospital is according to my daughter is a place where she learned how to talk. A place where she learned how to open up about her feelings and herself instead of bottling it all up until it erupts like Mt. Vesuvius. It is a place that begins the process that is really a lifelong journey. It is a place to feel not so alone in your illness.
It is not perfect by any means, but it’s a start.