Havenwyck Hospital — Local services in Auburn Hills

In July of 2018, I was diagnosed with hypo manic Bipolar Disorder, and I was sent here. I believe that my third eye chakra had been activated, and I was put on meds to counteract my spiritual awakening. I was put on a high dose of an anti seizure med used to treat mania. That med usually doesn't get prescribed to minors. So if I were to stop taking it for any reason, I could have a seizure. I was really sick from July 5th until like three weeks later. I began having hypo manic symptoms, and spiritually awakening when I got sick. I could see auras, remember details from parallel lives, I was euphoric, and everything looked vivid. I was having a great time for the most part. I had been taking paxil for my anxiety, and they took me off of that and put me on gabapentin and seroquel. The bed room I was in for the first half of the week I was there had a BRIGHT LIGHT next to the bed that stayed on all night. In order to get good sleep, you need to sleep in complete darkness. They know this. I had a wonderful time there, it was a very cool experience. I met amazing people there (other patients). But I would absolutely not recommend this place. The staff was alright, most of them were nice from what I saw, but the whole place had a kinda weird feel to it. The night I got checked in, they examined my body, which was a little weird. They do that to everybody, but I don't really see the point. At one point, a girl was talking to me in a way that made me feel uncomfortable, I told staff and they did nothing about it. There is a "quiet room" you can go in if you need a break, which is nice, but I'm pretty sure you get marked down for missing assignments while you're in there. The meds they put me on made me really tired, not to mention I wasn't getting good sleep, and I asked to lay down (in the day room) and the lady who was playing a game with us told me that sounded like an excuse and wouldn't let me. If you fell asleep in the day room, you would loose a "point". You could get up to three points for good behavior, and with each one you would get more privileges, like being able to choose what was on TV (which wasn't really enforced), or sleeping with your own blanket. If you didn't have enough points, you weren't allowed to sleep with your own blanket. I wore a band on my wrist that said I was sensitive to food coloring, and they put me on a big yellow capsule and a white pill, both containing artificial food dye. One good thing I do have to say about the place, is the staff noticed that I got along better with the younger kids, and they let me switch day room groups, which I thoroughly appreciated. I saw vomit multiple times while I was there. They did not seem to care much about cleaning it. I reported vomit on the shower curtain, and it was still there when I left, several days later. Many of the kids I met there also talked about past lives. Spiritual awakenings are not rare in people with bipolar disorder. The woman who interviewed me when I went to partial hospitalization for the first time before I went to Havenwyck told me I was in psychosis when I told her I remembered details from past lives. I was not psychotic. That was not part of my diagnosis. I made it clear that I knew that I was myself. I knew information that I was not supposed to know, and they took me away and put me on drugs to stop me from being awakened. I was told that I would stay there for 3 days, but I ended up staying a week. All that goes on in the day rooms is basically printed worksheets, some art projects, and watching TV. There was one point where we did a guided meditation, which was cool. I only went outside once while I was there. There was a big window in the older kids room, but there was only a very small window on an emergency exit in the younger kids room. That is not okay. People need sunlight every day, especially people with mental struggles. Sunlight causes the pineal gland to produce serotonin, essential for people who have depression. They know this, the goal is to keep our...

I was admitted to Havenwyck Hospital on April 17th by ambulance after being transferred from Hurley Hospital in Flint. From the very beginning, the process was manipulative. During intake I had to throw away the clothes Hurley had already cut up, put on a hospital gown and disposable underwear, and was pressured to sign paperwork claiming I was there “voluntarily.” When I refused, I was told if I didn’t sign it would “go to court” and I would be stuck there longer. That is not voluntary — that is coercion.

I was placed in Unit A. The environment was cold, sterile, and degrading. The main corridor reeked of urine right by the nurses’ desk. Rooms were bare — just a bed with a plastic mattress, a thin flat sheet (no fitted sheet), and one flimsy plastic pillow. You were only allowed one pillow unless you got a prescription. You were only allowed two blankets, no matter how freezing the unit was. When I asked for a third blanket, I was denied. Five patients shared one bathroom. The main showers kept backing up, and you had to get staff permission just to take a shower. Bedroom doors had to stay open at all times while you were inside, so you had zero privacy. The windows were covered so you couldn’t see outside. It felt like a prison block, not a hospital.

Patients were managed, not cared for. If you stayed quiet and didn’t ask for much, you were left alone. If you asked questions or requested basic things, many staff members seemed visibly annoyed. A few were kind, but most were dismissive, cold, and impatient. I witnessed patients being humiliated and disregarded. One nurse, Ms. B (Brenda), constantly argued with my roommate when she asked for her prescribed anxiety meds, even belittling her in front of others. Another woman in my hall attempted suicide multiple times. Eventually she was given a sitter — but often that sitter was male, which many of us found disturbing. On top of that, I had to deal with an old white racist woman in my wing who was openly verbally abusive toward me.

The psychiatrist (Jasty) was a disgrace. I was “seen” almost daily, but only for one to five minutes at a time. You had to line up outside his office like cattle, then he’d ask a couple vague questions, barely look at you, and dictate his notes into his phone. He based his entire assessment of you on your demeanor in those few minutes. He didn’t care about your story, your needs, or your reality. To him, we weren’t patients — we were billable units.

The so-called “treatment program” was a joke. You were required to attend about four groups every day. If you missed them, it could affect your discharge date. If you didn’t eat, same. If you refused meds, same. The groups themselves were useless — coloring, playing games, listening to a coordinator talk, or being forced to “share feelings.” How is that supposed to help people in real crisis? It wasn’t treatment, it was babysitting.

Meals were rigid and infantilizing: three cafeteria meals a day, marched to in single file, with exactly 30 minutes to eat. The unit was co-ed, but men were allowed to roam the corridor while women were told to stay behind their area doors “for safety.” This was not healthcare. It was control and containment.

I was held for 8 days. No one explained that at admission. My mother thought it was a 72-hour hold until I told her otherwise. Leaving was the only relief. Did I feel better? Absolutely not. I left traumatized, angry, and worse off than when I arrived.

And then came the bills. Havenwyck sent a $12,000 bill, plus a separate bill from their contracted psychiatrist who barely saw me. On top of that, I received ambulance and ER bills. When I tried to dispute or apply for charity, I was denied because of my income. They profit off suffering, plain and simple.

This place gave me PTSD. I still suffer nightmares and lasting emotional damage from Havenwyck. It is not a hospital of healing, but a profit-driven warehouse where vulnerable people are dehumanized, silenced, and exploited for...

DO NOT TAKE YOUR CHILD HERE. PLEASE READ THIS

I am redoing this review, since there is more reviews out there now and I now have better memory after 12 years of therapy after my inpatient stay at Havenwyck Hospital. In 2011, at 13 years old, I was taken to the Havenwyck for suicidal tendencies. I was an absolute mess, and undiagnosed of anything wrong with me. My mother was desperate, since back then the internet was very new and we had no idea what we were getting into with my mental health crisis.

I was instantly admitted at around midnight. I was escorted down a long hallway and was told to go to my room. I was not given pajamas, new clothes, hygiene products or anything of the sort. The next morning I was woken up at 5am. With my undiagnosed insomnia with no comfort, I slept maybe 2-3 hours. I wasn't told what to do or anything so I just followed the other kids to a room that was about the size of a master bathroom. There were 2 couches. There was a door leading into the hallway that was always open, & a door leading outside. The door leading outside was scratched & had the word "help" on it. For the first day I was there, nothing really happened. We all sat on the couches, hip to hip, & just talked. I met a girl named Elektra & we both got along pretty well. I don't remember anything about food until we were escorted in a single file line to the cafeteria. The food was horrible, but I'm never a picky eater, so I ate anyway. Day 2 I saw a teen have an autistic meltdown. He was restrained, given an unknown injection, & sent to a padded "quiet room". There was a TV at the main desk that had a camera pointing at him. I saw, because the main desk was short in height & I'm 5'9" There was also a blonde, tall, buff man constantly swearing & yelling at kids that were in range of 5-8 years old. The children were doing what they were told, which was to sit on the couch/the floor. Day 3 I finally saw a psychiatrist, which gave me 50mg of Prozac, which is a pretty high dose! I also started to burp a really nasty tasting & smelling gas. Other kids were commenting on it, even though I was burping into my closed mouth. At this point I felt like too much of a burden, because the staff obviously did not care for us, so I didn't say anything. That night I woke up & threw up all over my blanket, & a 2nd time onto the floor. I went to the bathroom that was all the way down the hallway, throwing up on the way there (Sorry I know it's nasty). I stopped once I got to the bathroom, & I told the front desk ASAP. She told me to go back to bed. I told her I refuse to leave the bathroom, and she said "Fine". I threw up even more, & when I finally had a break, I went to the front desk again & was given a pink liquid in a medicine cup. I asked what it was, & I was told to "Just drink it". I drank it because I was scared & whatever it was did NOT help. I was given a bag sooner or later, & sent to my room with a new blanket. Day 4 I saw a therapist in a storage closet that was absolutely useless with her "Mhm"s. The throw up was cleaned in the hallway, but NOT in my bedroom on the floor. Day 5 I saw the psychiatrist again. The prozac was making me a zombie and I just wanted out. The throw up was on the floor from Day 3 until the afternoon of Day 5. Morning of Day 6 I was finally discharged with papers. My mom was not allowed to visit the entirety of my stay. I did not have any phone calls. I was left traumatized. Feeling like a burden for years. I'm 25 and still have habits of from that 6 day stay.

DO NOT TAKE YOUR CHILD HERE. The food is disgusting. The staff is disgusting. They DO NOT CARE. They will NOT let you see your child. They will REFUSE to give information to you. They will DRUG YOUR CHILD without anyone else's permission. THIS IS A PRISON. NOT HELP FOR YOUR CHILD. SEEK HELP ELSEWHERE

AND NO, HAVENWYCK, WE WILL NOT CONTACT YOU FOR HELP. WE SHOULD BE SEEING OUR LAWYERS FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO US. HAVE THE DAY...