The Time I worked At The Cuckoo's Nest

In July of 2013 I received my Bachelor's Degree in Psychology. Boy was that not easy. I even had to take a year off because of financial reasons. I basically was only able to attend school with the help of loans and financial aid. I was ready to start a job in psychology, so I started applying for counseling jobs. Soon enough I got an interview for a mental health counselor position in Riverside. I got the job! I was very excited for this new role. But to be honest, I had absolutely no experience and I had no idea what I was going to be dealing with.

My job as a mental health counselor was to perform hourly groups with the residents at the mental health center I worked at. These groups would help residents with different things like, understanding their mental illness, managing their symptoms and how to live with their peers in peace. I will not use any actual names to protect the resident's identity and confidentiality. I was in charge of about 15 residents. I was responsible for counseling their ill behavior and encouraging them to attend group every hour. I became somewhat attached to my group of residents. I truly cared for them and wanted to help them. The sad part is a lot of the workers there didn't and treated them like scum.

One resident, I'll call him Steve, was very needy. He was like a 40 year old child and I treated him like he was my own child. He had to use a special wheel chair with bars to get around. He had a kind heart but would definitely mouth off to the other residents from time to time. But luckily most of them didn't hear him because he could only talk with a whisper. You would have to get real close to his face to hear him talk. He also would refuse to take himself to the restroom, so he would pee himself. I would always be pushing him down the hallways to get him to the restroom in time.

Most of the residents suffered from schizophrenia, depression and bipolar disorder. Many were even paired with physical handicaps and illness. Another resident, I'll call him Rocky, liked to eat cigarettes off the ground. But he sure was a sweet man. He suffered from delusions and hallucinations. He could have conversations with people in his head all day long. Sometimes although the residents were sweet, they could become very violent towards one another. I cannot count the many times I had to yell "Code Amber!" Many times I had to hold them down to keep them from destroying each other. Aggression is a part of the mental illness these people suffered from. Many of them believed delusions about their lives too. One woman believed she was a nurse and was still attending school everyday. Some times they could be so delusional they didn't think anything was wrong with them. Some weren't even sure why they were there.

I had one resident who thought I was his wife and became fixated on me. I told my higher ups but they didn't think it necessary to change him to a different group. So I delt with him blowing me kisses and fits of jealousy towards the other residents. He even socked another resident in the face for talking to me. I was blamed for that because for some reason I should've known that was going to happen. My residents did some pretty crazy things, but I grew to love them all. Too bad I couldn't say that about the people I worked for. It was obvious they had an issue with me, especially since Caucasian was a minority there. I am not racist at all, but they separated themselves for me and were very hard on me. I swear I got in trouble for everything. I am the type of person that will stand up for injustice so I didn't let them blame me for everything like they wanted to. I was new and sensitive which made me an easy scapegoat. I even got written up for something I didn't do. I refused to sign it. I am sure that is what led to me being fired...for the first time ever. They tried to fight me on unemployment, but after everything was investigated, it was proved that they had no good reason to fire me. This place was such a dysfunctional work environment. I practically walked in on some coworkers doing who knows what in the dark...both were married...at the time. I'm not judging, but that looks pretty fishy to me.

The day I was fired, I went to see all my residents to say goodbye. I was holding back tears. One resident started crying and wished me all the best. Another started yelling at me because he thought I was abandoning him. He kept yelling, "You were going to help me!" He became violent with the staff and was escorted to his room. I really didn't like my job, but I grew to love these individuals. To this day I wonder how they are being treated now and how they are doing. But I still don't ever want to be a mental health counselor again.