This time, Clarion Psych kept me for two weeks–the longest I had ever been away from my three children.
It was torture.
On my intake paperwork, for “Chief Complaint,” it said, “None of your fucking business,” because that’s what I told the psychiatrist when he asked me why I was there.
This is where I got my diagnosis of Bipolar I with Psychotic Features and began taking antipsychotic drugs for the first time in my life. I make the mistake of telling my diagnosis to my mother, who then took Superman and King to Dr. Religious, telling her that I was a “bipolar alcoholic.”
Dr. Religious recommended that the children should be removed from my home, and then my mother started the paperwork to sue me for custody.
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