One of the absolutely most heartbreaking things I have ever seen was the day hospital program, having to see the human face of abject despair, utter misery. I was pretty messed up, I thought kind of hopeless, until I got there. I honestly said to myself "you have got to be kidding me". People seemed so ... Lost. A few had a little fighting spirit, but most seemed resigned to this as the only possibility for themselves. The multiple drugs did not help, made them zombies. Many had been inpatient multiple times, some had multiple suicide attempts. It was heartbreaking. It also made me determined not to end up like that, even when my irrational paranoia told me I was going to die in the Cass Corridor (Detroit's notorious center of drugs, prostitution, homelessness). Again, I felt that the "system" was not setting the bar very high at all. I certainly didn't want that or worse to be my fate.

The quack I blame for a lot of this explained bipolar to me ... Just enough to make it sound pretty hopeless as well. Chronic, incurable, degenerative, prone to progressively more severe relapse, hit or miss medications. And none of these other "professionals" ever questioned that Dx, even after I voiced my concerns to them towards the end of the 2 weeks. Of course, the one that could/should have been in a position to re-evaluate was the "house doctor" for the program, who was about as useful as an air conditioner in Antarctica. Another quack.

I think I mentioned in another thread how almost any behavior can be "held against you" when trying to make a case that you have disease X. Guilty until proven innocent. It seemed like they totally ignored context. I had to be manic because I was full of nervous energy. I was unable to sleep. Extremely irritable. All proof to them I was bipolar. None of them bothered to even make mention of any possible alternative. Hypervigilance under extreme duress accounts for all of it IMHO.