What to Know About Bipolar and Going to a Psychiatric Hospital

Medically Reviewed by Allison Young, MD
Last Updated: 4 Jul 2023
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Hospitalization gets a bad rap — sometimes for a good reason — but sometimes it can be helpful during a severe episode of mania or bipolar depression.

Empty hallway in psychiatric hospital for treating bipolar disorder
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A New Perspective on Bipolar Disorder Hospitalization

The phrase “for your own good” is usually attached to something you know you’re not going to like — such as ending up in the hospital because of an episode of bipolar depression or mania.

But the fact is, there may be times when your current safety and future well-being benefit from a hospital stay. Even if the hospital is not where you want to be, or what you think you need.

“It can get scary,” admits Megan C., a musician from Massachusetts who has bipolar 1. “You’re not thinking clearly and you can feel like you’re losing a lot of your freedoms — and in some ways you are. Big decisions are being made about you. But having people around who you can trust and advocate for you is important.”

Not every facility is going to offer state-of-the-art care. Some interventions can be traumatizing, such as physical restraints or a medication regimen that you haven’t agreed to. Nonetheless, a hospital stay can give you the space you need to begin to get well — a break from everyday stresses, an opportunity to get concentrated attention from professionals dedicated to pulling you back from the brink.

Unlike a hospitalization for something like pneumonia, however, getting inpatient care for a mood episode may stir up difficult emotions: shame, self-blame, embarrassment. Yet, mood disorders, including bipolar disorder, and psychosis spectrum among people aged 18 to 44, account for nearly 600,000 hospitalizations in the United States each year, according to the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI).

It often takes a shift in perspective to view going to the hospital in a positive light, rather than as some sort of disgrace or personal failing.

“Being proud doesn’t make you stronger, it just makes you avoid getting help and means you suffer longer,” notes Andrew B. Klafter, MD, a psychiatrist in Cincinnati.

The Value of Acute Care to Stabilize Bipolar Symptoms

Megan says she has had seven or eight hospitalizations over the past five years. The ones where she was an active participant in the treatment process were easier to get through, she recalls.

Participating as much as possible in your care tends to improve the outcome no matter how you are admitted (involuntarily or with your consent), where you are admitted (whether a locked ward in the community hospital or a plush private facility), and how long you stay (from 24-hour crisis care to inpatient treatment spanning several months).

A 2012 study using data from 106 American hospitals found the average length of a psychiatric hospitalization was 7 to 13 days.

Perhaps because of exaggerated portrayals in movies and on TV, — and perhaps sometimes from real-life tales — some people look at psychiatric hospitalization as an extreme measure, almost a punishment. The opposite is more often true: It’s a form of protection.

“For me, it was necessary to seek additional help because I felt unsafe on my own and couldn’t guarantee my safety,” reports J.K. of Illinois, who was hospitalized once for suicidal ideation and a second time while experiencing hallucinations. “Anyone who is in a similar situation should not feel ashamed in asking for help outside of your regular care team, family, and friends.”

When a psychiatrist recommends hospitalization, it’s usually intended as a short-term intervention to resolve an acute situation. Longer-term stays may be necessary depending on the situation, notes Sue K. DiGiovanni, MD, associate chair for clinical services in the psychiatry department at the University of Rochester Medical Center (URMC) in upstate New York.

“We try to keep the hospitalization as brief as possible,” says Dr. DiGiovanni, “yet long enough so that [people’s] symptoms stabilize and we have time to work with them, their families or significant others, and others involved in their treatment on an outpatient basis to come up with the best possible discharge plan.”

At a teaching hospital like URMC, a treatment team might include a psychiatrist, social worker, nurses, nurse practitioners, psychiatry residents, and, at times, a nutritionist and chaplain. The team coordinates on fine-tuning medications in order to rein in the mood episode and on developing the all-important discharge plan that will follow you home.

Daily visits with the psychiatrist can be short, from 10 minutes to a half hour. DiGiovanni says people may mistakenly expect to receive intensive individual psychotherapy, but the hospital is not the setting for that.

Rather, the goal is to calm the crisis and have individuals exit the hospital with a blueprint for getting “connected to the resources they need,” she says.

During Megan’s last hospitalization, it took more than six months to reach a point where she was well enough to leave. At her discharge, she was worried about being assigned a different support system than the team of professionals she’d been working with for four years.

However, the current arrangement has proved extremely beneficial, she says. She was connected to a program of the Massachusetts Department of Mental Health that helps adults with mental health conditions set and work toward meaningful life goals.

Megan meets once a week with a clinician to talk about anything from managing her symptoms and relationships to applying for benefits to whether she should go back to school. She also meets weekly with a peer specialist. The appointments regularly fill her with optimism and hope.

“I’ve gone almost a year without being hospitalized,” she says. “For me, that’s a good run.”

Navigating the Fears and Realities of Psychiatric Hospitalization

There’s no denying that being on a locked hospital unit can feel like a terrifying loss of control. That can be compounded by lack of insight during hypomania or mania — meaning you don’t see why you need help in the first place — and psychotic features that make it difficult to stay grounded in reality.

Jesse L., who has bipolar 1 and anxiety disorders, recalls that he hadn’t slept for several days before he landed in a psych ward.

“I was pretty much out of my mind with confusion and minor delusions, so I was afraid,” the Nebraska man says. “But I wanted to go someplace where I could be safe until I got healthy again.”

At first, the loss of his own clothes and knowing that other people were in charge of him intensified his manic paranoia. To calm his fears, he would focus on a pedestrian bridge he could see from his window and remind himself he would be walking across that bridge once he was released.

Short visits with the doctor were the highlight of his stay because “he paid attention to what was happening to me,” Jesse says.

Having to be hospitalized can be doubly difficult if you have negative residue from a previous experience — perhaps from feeling that certain treatments were imposed on you or because of how the staff acted.

“If that’s you, don’t be ashamed of it,” says Rebecca Christofferson, a registered clinical counselor in private practice in British Columbia. “You are a survivor.”

A movement labeled “trauma-informed care” recognizes the effects of feeling powerless when receiving mental health treatment. Christofferson suggests alerting the facility about any issues like that.

Conflicts may arise with even the most sensitive care team, however, such as when people argue that they’re ready to go home but the doctor disagrees.

“When that happens, for the patients it feels like, ‘You’re not listening to me. You’re not wanting to help me,’” explains DiGiovanni. “But there are times I have to go against what they’re saying they want because, in my professional opinion and in my good conscience, I can’t just let them go without having the kind of supports they need to be successful once they return to the community.”

Hospital Discharge and Lessons for Long-Term Stability

Stephen T., who lives in the Toronto area, appreciates hospitalization as a dedicated break to work out the kinks in a new bipolar medication regimen.

“That’s probably the best place in the world you can try it. You’re monitored. You’re not at your job or in the real world. You can speak directly to the staff about how you’re feeling, and judge for yourself whether it’s working,” says Stephen.

Medications can take from a couple of days to a few weeks to come fully online, so patience is critical.

Stephen notes that in addition to the formal treatment, connecting with peers who are in the same boat can provide both important support and a source of satisfaction.

“You begin to form relationships,” he says. “You’re as much helping them as they are helping you.”

Stephen’s advice is drawn from three hospitalizations over seven years. Ending up in the hospital again, especially after a decent stretch of stability, can trigger feelings of hopelessness and frustration. Stephen prefers to view his repeat visits as part of the learning curve in managing his bipolar 1 disorder.

He’s gone nine years now without a relapse severe enough to warrant re-admittance.
“My close friends and family who know my personal history are proud of me, considering where I’ve been and where I am now — with a great career, a loving wife, and a young daughter,” he says.

The Post-Hospitalization Phase in Bipolar Disorder

Getting released from the hospital typically doesn’t mean you’re in tip-top shape. Basically, you’re well enough to work on getting yourself healthy again, like starting rehab after a heart attack.

It’s important to continue treatment — either with doctors and therapists in the community or through partial hospitalization, which is an intensive outpatient day program — to rely on your support network, and to apply yourself to self-care strategies.

It’s also important not to jump right back into your usual routine as soon as you’re out. Trying to re-adjust too quickly could undo the progress you made during your hospital stay.

If you have a job, asking for shorter hours or fewer responsibilities as you transition back will make success in the long run more likely. It may be tempting to prove you can operate at your previous level or even do more than usual, especially if work piled up while you were gone, but it’s unrealistic to expect that from yourself right away.

“Understand that you’re recovering, and you’re not going to be at 100 percent capacity the first week,” says Dr. Klafter. “Maybe you’re at 75 percent, but that’s better than zero percent, which is what you would’ve been the week before.”

It’s worth addressing any lingering negative feelings about your hospitalization in therapy or through peer support. Feeling reluctant to go back when you need to could put you in peril.

“If you get to the point where you feel like you’re at risk of harming yourself or somebody else, always go to the hospital,” insists Jennifer Gerlach, a mental health clinician in Illinois, adding: “Your life is more important than that.”



Editorial Sources and Fact-Checking

Mental Health By the Numbers. National Alliance on Mental Illness. April 2023.

Lee S, Rothbard AB, Noll EL. Length of Inpatient Stay of Person With Serious Mental Illness: Effects of Hospital and Regional Characteristics. Psychiatric Services. September 2012.


Read More:
8 Tips to Make the Most of Your Psychiatric Hospital Stay


Printed as “A Safe Space,” Summer 2017

About the author
Robin L. Flanigan is a national award-winning journalist for magazines and newspapers, and author of the children’s book M is for Mindful. After receiving a bachelor’s degree in language and literature from St. Mary’s College of Maryland, she worked for 11 years in newsrooms including The Herald-Sun in Durham, North Carolina, and the Democrat and Chronicle in Rochester, New York. Her work has earned awards from the Education Writers Association, the Maryland-Delaware-D.C. Press Association, the New York News Publishers Association, and elsewhere. She also authored the book 100 Things To Do In Rochester Before You Die. When not writing for work, Robin is usually writing for pleasure, hiking (she climbed to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro in 2008), or searching for the nearest chocolate chip cookie. She lives in Upstate New York and can be found at thekineticpen.com or on Twitter: @thekineticpen.
20 Comments
  1. Worst experience in my life. I was there for five days and talked to a psychiatrist for 10 minutes, he changed every med I was on and I never saw him again in a clinical setting. I never saw a therapist despite her walking through the floor trying to act like she knew everyone.

    Every time we were supposed to have “yard time” the staff couldn’t be bothered. Didn’t see the outside until I was released.

    We didn’t do any of the group activities that were on the schedule I was given. I did however, get to watch all of Ozark, some serial killer documentaries and listen to music on YouTube.

    When I complained to the patient advocate I was told “just take your meds so you can go home”

    I told my family and med team that if they ever tried to get me to go again the answer would always be no and if they tried to involuntarily be committed I would do everything I could to get away from whatever hospital I was in before I could be transported to the inpatient facility and I would never forgive them. I felt safer and more supported being suicidal in my bed than I ever did at the hospital.

    There is a reason that the suicide rate of people fresh out of the hospital is a hundred times greater.

  2. Although the two hospitalizations I had not the best experience for me, I do realize and appreciate that they saved my life. I was at rock bottom and very irrational. I thankful for my family to recognize and call 911 when I was in distress.

  3. Great article to anchor to as an ideal, so thank you for the work put in on communicating this. As for the obvious lived experiences, mine mirrors the horror stories of those of us in the comments. This topic is the worst one to bring up after the whole thing has blown over, and justifiably causes relationship tensions for years that can go unresolved even with counseling. No one can ever understand what the lockdown means to you. So it’s up to me to demonstrate maturity with my support team back home upon discharge. Hardest. thing. ever.

  4. I have promised myself that I will NEVER go to the hospital again. I went to the ER at the hospital that I have been receiving treatment for many years. Because they were full, they sent me to hell. I’m not exaggerating. They have the right to send you where ever there is an empty bed and they sent me to hell. When the ambulance rolled me in, I begged them not to leave me there. It was old, and stark, and cold and it stank. The staff were cold and nonprofessional. They did not care about my fears. The day room had only plastic outdoor furniture and the heat was not working so it was cold. The first night I was there, my room mate had thrown up in my room and the staff refused to clean it up. I was strapped down for the first and only time in my life. It was HORRIBLE and I will never give anyone the chance to do that to me again. Don’t tell me how good hospitalization can be. No matter how bad I get I will NEVER go to the emergency room. Maybe it is a strong incentive to do whatever I need to do to stay stable. But we all know, sometimes no matter how hard we work at it, it’s not enough. I could not believe this treatment was allowed in our country. Not in 2023! But it is because I experienced it.

  5. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been hospitalized over the past 23 years. Initially, they were fine. Yes, you lose a lot of freedoms and it sucks being locked up, but at least they provided proper treatment. At one hospital I was given 3 ECT treatments without my permission (I was way too out of my mind to have given consent for anything like that; when I insisted I did NOT give consent, they showed me my signature and it was literally so small a Barbie could have signed it, and they thought I was capable of making decisions?!). Another time, I agreed to ECT, but the first treatment, they did not give me any muscle relaxers. For those unfamiliar with ECT, it induces seizures; anyone who has had a seizure knows how incredibly painful they are. Anyway, I was in so much pain I literally couldn’t move my jaw and had a hard time speaking. All staff did was scream and yell at me because I wasn’t eating my breakfast when I got back from the treatment. I couldn’t chew! I wholeheartedly believe they didn’t give me the muscle relaxer on purpose. Just like they never put lidocaine in the IV before the anesthesia so it burned like hell, and I would literally scream, “Ow, ow, ow, ow!” until it knocked me out. I refused any more ECT after that. Other hospital stays: a nurse would whisper to other staff and point and laugh at patients; same nurse denied me my medication saying I’d already had enough (Tylenol and Wellbutrin 3 hours prior??). She also made fun of me when I was shaking because of bad anxiety. Another hospital I was agitated, and instead of helping, a staff member tried to egg me on, saying “C’mon! C’mon!” Days later he was laughing at me for something, and I literally went for his throat. Another staff member was able to stop me, but that was ridiculous. Same stay, I broke my foot and they insisted it was not broke after taking an x-ray. Saw my podiatrist after discharge and it was broken. Same stay, there were literally NO groups to participate in, ever! In the midst of being restrained one time, a security guard called me a “f*cking psycho.” Another time a staff member yelled a lot of my personal information in front of nearly every patient on the unit. I’ve been strapped down for 8+ hours and even denied water. I could go on and on. The abuse and trauma in the hospital is not worth it anymore. I try as hard as I can to work on everything outpatient.

    1. OMG I’m so sorry to hear your story. I have Bi polar 1 and I’ve only been hospitalized once in probably 15 years of treatment. I always thought my experience in the hospital was traumatic, but it’s nothing compared to what you’ve been through. I really hope you’re able to stay out of the hospital. My thoughts are with you ❤️

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