Reclaiming My Story After Hospital Trauma huge trigger warni

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Content Note: non-graphic description of trauma and staff misconduct in a psychiatric setting. This post may be activating for some readers.

Hi, I’m Jennifer. Some of you may remember me as “jenisautistic.” I joined Wrong Planet back in 2013 and used to post a lot about sensory comforts, autism life, favorite characters, and the little things that helped me feel safe in a world that often didn’t make sense.
One of my comments on an older threads was about carrying my bear everywhere — something that truly grounded me at the time.
“I carry my bear wherever I go.”

But I disappeared from the site for a long time. And today, I want to tell you why.

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What Happened in 2014

In April 2014, I was 15 years old and going through a mental health crisis. There was a lot going on — school stress, confusion about paperwork, a lost permission slip, broken glasses, and an argument at home. I left the house without my phone or keys, just needing to calm down. But when I returned, the police were there. I didn’t understand what was happening.

I was taken to the hospital and eventually admitted to a psychiatric facility.

That’s where something happened that changed me completely.

While asking about my medication, two female staff members forcefully brought me into a small room. later on I was going through the hallway looking at the different rooms when they attacked me again My pants were pulled partway down, and I was held face-down on a hard table. One of them got on top of me and pressed down on my body in a way that felt deeply wrong. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe properly. I begged them not to hurt me and told them I had special needs.

They said nothing. Just held me down while I felt pressure and pain I didn’t understand at the time. When they left, they said nothing then either. I had to pull myself together, get dressed, and walk back to my room in silence — crying and confused. I remember lying there afterward, unable to make sense of what just happened.

It took years to even name it as trauma.

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Why I Left Wrong Planet for a While

After that, I spent years in and out of hospitals, programs, and “evaluations.” I lost my sense of control over my own life. I barely had internet access, and even when I did, I couldn’t find the words to explain what I was going through. I stopped posting — not because I didn’t love this place, but because I didn’t know how to show up anymore.

Now, in 2025, I finally understand what happened. And I’m strong enough to come back.

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The Years After: Silence, Confusion, and Recovery

For a long time, I questioned everything. I had gaps in memory. I felt physically ill. I felt like my voice had been taken from me. When I did try to talk about it, some people didn’t take me seriously. Others avoided the conversation.

But it was real.

Even now, I live with some of the triggers — hospital environments, uniforms, loud voices. But today, I can say something I couldn’t back then:
It was never my fault.

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Returning in 2025: Reclaiming My Voice

I’m still autistic. I still carry comfort items. I still need structure, softness, and space. But I also now work with The Arc , support students with disabilities, and use my voice as a writer and advocate.

I’m reclaiming my story, not hiding from it.

I’ve turned a lot of my healing into art, stories, journaling, and writing. And now, I’m sharing my truth again — not as someone looking for pity, but as someone who’s still here and trying to grow.

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From “Comfort Bear Girl” to Survivor and Advocate

I used to think that needing stuffed animals and soft jackets made me immature. Now I know:
they helped me survive.

I still believe in softness. I believe in storytelling. I believe in rebuilding. And I believe in giving others — especially autistic girls — the protection and understanding I didn’t always receive.

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Final Words

If you’ve ever been hurt and couldn’t speak about it…
If you’ve ever tried to tell your story and felt like no one heard you…
If your trauma didn’t have a label but still lives in your body…

You are not alone.

You don’t need perfect words.
You don’t have to explain it all.
You just have to believe: your voice matters. And so do you.

Thanks for reading. I’m still here. And that means something.

— Jennifer

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“I survived what tried to silence me. I’m still here.”
Autistic • Writer • Advocate • Healing in 2025

I am sorry that happened to you.

I am glad you survived it.

Good on you for choosing to help others.

I am glad you have items that give you comfort.

I'm so sorry you went through that. I also have trauma. It's an extremely difficult journey to be on. Thanks for sharing your story and for your advocacy!

You're a good person Jenny and I'm glad you survived all of that

My coping mechanism is imaginary friends

You keep telling that story of yours as long as you need to and don't let them silence you any more. That's what I plan to do too

Take care kid

Thank you for the courage to share your stoty. ......glad you made it through it..Seen some pretty rotten stuff going on in Psyche wards .Aswell. Hang in Jenn

Sweet Pea hugs