I agreed to get a psychiatric evaluation - albeit reluctantly - because I thought they wanted to help. Holy fuck, I couldn't have been more wrong.My first clue might have been the way the nurses were total assholes toward me when they took down my information."How were you planning to do it?" she asked."... Why?" Why would they need to know that? I didn't want to reveal too much.She was very annoyed with me. "Because I need to know.""I prefer not to say."We went back and forth briefly before she just said, "Well, you're gonna have to tell the psychiatrist anyway.""Nope ... but, ok," I said. She glared at me, so I continued, "I mean, I understand what you're saying, but I'm not going to tell him." I mean, really, who the hell do you think you are? You can't force me to say anything I don't want to. I'm just here because I want to meet with a psychiatrist, that's all.She gave me another bitter glare before ordering another nurse to escort me to some other room.So we entered the other room. They took me to the back of the room and I was presented with a bag containing scrubs. ... Wait, what?"Go in the bathroom and put these on," an old woman directed."Huh? Why?""WTF EVERYONE HAS TO DO IT JUST PUT THEM ON"It seemed really, really odd that I'd need to put on scrubs just for a quick psychiatrist meeting. All my stuff was in my pockets, so changing clothes would complicate my ability to leave. I asked, "Uhh but ... I can leave any time, right?""After your evaluation. Here."No no, I don'tto be evaluated. "Actually no, I'm here voluntarily," I explained."You can leave after you get evaluated. Put these on!"Lawls. "Actually, no... I think I want to leave now." I took a step toward the exit.She stepped in my way. "You can't leave.""... What do you mean.""The psychiatrist is going to evaluate you.""No," I repeated myself, "I came here voluntarily, Ihave to be here, and I want to leave now." What the fuck was going on?"Johnson, go get the mother," she ordered.A few awkward minutes passed as we waited. My hands were getting shaky. When she finally arrived, I blurted out, "These people are very unfriendly This is like I'm being locked in a mental institution I just want to leave now!""Don't you want to see the psychiatrist?" she asked."Not if I'm going to be forced to stay here."There were a couple employees around now. One said, "You have to put these on, it's policy.has to wear these.""That's not the problem! You can'tme here!"A nurse said, "You said you were going to harm yourself.""No. I never said that.""Your mother said there was a note or something...""I never stated that I was going to harm myself in any way."A security guard talked to me. "Listen, man, if you just cooperate, this'll go a lot smoother. Just talk to the psychiatrist, and if he believes you're not a threat to yourself, you'll probably be outta here in time for dinner!"Oh, God, what the hell! "I don't want him to decide that."He responded, "Well I mean, haha, if you're gonna hurt yourself it would be stupid to let you go!""How about I call the cops?""Calm down, man. You can do this the easy way... or if we have to, we will tie you down and drug you.""You have no legal right to detain me here. There is no evidence that I might hurt myself.""Your mom said she was worried about you.""So? I'm worried about, I thinkshould be locked up too!"He just laughed condescendingly and tried to give me the scrubs again."What I'm saying is," I explained further, "you can't just lock somebody up based on what somebody else says about them.""The Mental Health law doesn't require any evidence," he claimed.Wow. After a brief second, I just walked right into the bathroom. I wondered how long it'd take them to notice I hadn't brought the scrubs with me. I locked the door and dialed 911.A woman answered indecipherably. I responded, "... Hi. Uh, I'm being illegally detained here at Saint Francis Hospital." "Where are you?""Uhh I don't know, I'm not familiar with the layout here, but, uhhh it's an open room with a bunch of patients around ... I came here for a psychiatric evaluation ... I'm in a bathroom making this call.""Okay, I will connect you to the police. You will hear a click, but don't hang up. ... ... *click* ... Hello?"I began to hear voices outside the bathroom door. I ignored them. "Hi, yeah I'm being unlawfully detained at Saint Francis Hospital.""What building are you in?"I heard a voice say, "I'm going to open the door now."I blocked the door with my foot and put my other foot on the wall for leverage.I said, "Uh, I'm not familiar with the layout here, but it's an open room with a bunch of patients around. Whatever room they might bring someone for a psychiatric evaluation? And I'm in a bathroom making this call." The people in the hospital thought I was replying to them, but they couldn't understand me.The police said, "That sounds like a hospital issue, not a police issue." Ohhh God no please don't give me that!I felt the door opening, even though the lock was still pressed. But I was strong enough to keep them out. "Oh, he's ..." I heard them say.I replied on the phone, "Ita legal issue because I'm being illegally detained here!""Okay, okay," the police said. He asked me a few more questions before I heard a voice from the door. "This is Sheriff Roberts. Open the door."I hung up the phone (whoops) and opened the door. "Who are you?" I wanted to verify."I'm Sheriff Roberts. See?" He pointed to his badge."Okay."But, to my horror, he wasn't on my side. He didn't even listen to me. He fed me the same bullshit as everyone else. "Just cooperate", "You need to be evaluated", "The psychiatrist will decide if you can leave".Disheartened, I finally acquiesced, planning instead to bullshit the psychiatrist.As I exited the bathroom I saw a whole crowd of people who had been watching the situation. Just great.They ordered me into a dreary white room. They took my watch and jewelry. They made me take off my clothes. They stuck a needle in me and took some of my blood. And then, they just left me there, imprisoned, for more than. It felt like Dec '04 when I was in jail, but at least my mom was there.It felt like I was a terror suspect, the way my rights were inapplicable just because I was (unverifiably!) athreat."Do you hate me right now?" my mom asked.I nodded without looking at her."I didn't know all that was going to happen," she said."You could have let me go.""Well ... I'd rather you hate me now than for something to happen to you."I replied, "But this won't change anything! They pretty muchme that I must convince the guy that I'm not suicidal in order to get out of here. I can't tell him anything!"Three hours later, the psychiatrist arrived. I never looked him in the eye. I bullshitted through the whole thing, with a couple sprinkles of truth to increase believability. I told him that Thursday was not a plan for suicide*, and that I am actually not suicidal at all*. I "admitted" that I was a little down because my job is depressing, but I told him that I plan to go to college soon and find a new job, and I was sure that this minor depression would blow over. I claimed that everyone was just overreacting, and they should have at least asked me what "Thursday" was before assuming the worst.At first I didn't think he was buying it - especially since I wasn't looking him in the eye - but soon I could tell he was indeed forming an understanding of me based on my words. He misdiagnosed me with justdepression, and decided I could go free.It sucked because I did kinda want to talk to somebody. I had planned to pwn somebody with logic (or perhaps evenpwned, who knows). I didn't expect to be making a case for my own freedom before a judge.And I'm still incredibly pissed about the whole situation. Is there really no legal action I can take? Major emotional distress and $40 of missed work, for civil matters. On the criminal side, they detained me against my will for three hours based on nothing but a parent's word, even though I'm 19 years old.Here is what I learned today: If you're feeling suicidal,talk to anyone about it, because it'll just freak people out and you might get thrown into the system, which is NOT designed to help you.On the bright side, he did give me some "happy pills". Of course, if I just wanted pills, I didn't have to go through all that. But I guess I'll give them a try.* This is all totally, entirely, 100% true! The aforementioned "bullshit" refers toaspects about what I told the psychiatrist! I am not suicidal at all! There is no reason to believe that I am! (There,can I public-post this?)