top of page

Lyllie's Story 

"We Couldn't Fight Back"

Hospital abuse is not something that I can easily talk about. I like to pretend it never happened, the abuse that I faced has left me with physical injuries and disabilities that affect my day-to-day life. It has also strained some of my relationships because I have gaps in stories or have to lie to make things make sense for other people. I don't like to make things up, however, it is necessary for me to do at times. I spent 3-4 months in total receiving "treatments" at hospitals. During a stay in the Spring of 2021, I was admitted to a psychiatric ward for people with physical disabilities. You would think they would be accommodating towards people with physical disabilities since it's required to get in, but no.

Most of the kids there had severe restrictive allergies. I have a seizure disorder. Because staff only knew how to "take care of" kids with eating restrictions they kind of just let me do my own thing for the first 12 hrs. I made friends with one person though at the time with a disability that wasn't eating-related. For sake of privacy, I'm going to call him Tyler. Tyler was very sweet, he suffered from syncope and POTS, and sometimes he would be paralyzed from the waist down (he wasn't allowed a wheelchair at the hospital). So he spent a lot of time on the floor immobile during episodes.


Tyler is very important to this story because I learned something very quickly from him. I was screwed. Because Tyler couldn't run away it made him a sitting duck. The staff would hit or kick him and shove him to the ground because he couldn't fight back. They had so much fun beating the living shit out of this guy I was terrified for him, but also selfishly for myself.

How could I not be? I'm not going to go far in-depth on this since it was extremely traumatic but, if you're wondering about the other kids, as far as I know, they were fine. They would bring them all to the TV room and once you are there you are not allowed to leave until bathroom time. I was mute. I never spoke much. Never spoke to the staff unless absolutely necessary and I only ever said a few sentences max to Tyler. 


Because of my seizure disorder, they used it against me to beat the living shit out of me. They beat me to the point where when I fucking discharged they had to call an ambulance to get EMTs to put me on a gurney and take me to a hospital. Believe me when I say my parents would've sued. But they went to court and made an agreement that I would be released on day 4 instead of day 30 as long as my parents didn't take them to court for the physical and emotional abuse I sustained. I couldn't walk. A third of my leg was black. Just straight up black, not even other bruise colors just black it was so bad. And that was just my leg. My face was strewn with blood and my hair was caked in toothpaste. I came out emancipated and on what felt like the verge of death. During those 4 days not once did I feel safe, not even for a second. Many more forms of abuse happened there but it is too painful to write.

bottom of page