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Looking At The Records Of A Lunatic Asylum...

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I was looking for a particular person this afternoon when I came upon the entire list of admissions to the Sheffield Lunatic Asylum from 1872-1910. Names, ages, reason for admission and dates of both admission and discharge...

It makes for truly alarming reading.

Many of the patients were listed as having an unknown reason for their illness...but some of the others were scary...others were quite frankly funny.

A child of eight admitted after 'visiting a Diorama'

A servant 'frightened by a rat'

A woman with a 'bad temper'

Farm worker...'excited over the Election'

Student...'writing a Pantomime'

Husband 'alarmed over his wife's immorality'

A wife caused to become insane over 'ill-treatment of her husband'

A 'dispute with a neighbour'...this woman was a patient for twenty years!

A teacher 'study of music'

A Medical Doctor 'addicted to opium and drink'

Young coal miner in charge of the pit ponies admitted after 'bite from a horse'

A eighteen year old gardener...he was admitted for 'masturbation in public' he stayed in for twenty years.

There were many women who suffered from' disappointment in marriage' or 'disappointment in love'

The best description was 'cast aside by a paramour'

One woman was thought to be 'influenced by the Moon'

There were numerous young men suffering from 'sunstroke in India' or just plain 'sunstroke'...and 'fighting in South Africa'...I wonder if they were suffering from what we'd call PTSD.

One of the really odd ones was another young farm worker who was admitted through 'excitement at hay-stacking'

Probably the most common causes for admission which affected the most people was epilepsy...followed by drink...and religion.

Seriously...religious mania featured over and over again...sometimes simply described as religion.

Many women were admitted after birthing a child...men for 'concern over business' or from losing their work.

Each page I read had admissions of people from Workhouses...the reasons for their illnesses were said to be 'unknown' and on reflection it's probably because the Workhouse records were not kept up to date or the attending Doctor didn't know. It'd certainly be a way of getting rid of disruptive inmates...send them to the asylum.

Some patients stayed for a brief while...six months and they were discharged...others stayed for many years...one poor woman 'suffering from the effects of childbirth' was in the asylum for the next ten years...

One can only hope the Doctors and nurses were kindly disposed within the limits of their knowledge of the times.

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14 Replies
scorpiolass profile image
scorpiolass

Hi Vashti, Many years ago, I worked on the Hospital closures and patient resettlement programme, so what you found comes as no surprise to me. Reasons for admission were often shocking. ' answering father back', throwing a bottle of sauce at her husband' , clearly mad. The sad thing is that admission and 'madness', label often meant a lifetime of being locked up. Thank God that as a society, we have moved on. Love Margaret x

in reply to scorpiolass

It was such a handy way of getting rid of a relative you didn't much care for...a wife who stood up for herself for instance...

The ward I worked on had elderly ladies whose only 'crime' was to have had a child outside marriage...incarcerated for donkeys years. I didn't quite appreciate the horror of it until I was much older.

in reply to

I have read about that especially in Ireland and that's the worst of all to my mind. I notice they didn't put the father of the child in though. I wonder how many women's lives were ruined in that way. It's dreadful. x

in reply to

Those poor old ladies cough...we made sure they were spoiled and much loved.

Bevvy profile image
Bevvy

Whilst it is clear that we have to be thankful the large institutions have closed down. Sadly the result for some people with mental health issues is to have no support or help. Often this means people end up on the streets and homeless.

So much for 'care in the community'!

in reply to Bevvy

It barely exists...

Offcut profile image
Offcut

All to shocking that at the time they only needed a reason that sounded plausible.

My last AC doc told me that in her training they were told that asthma was a disease of the mind and mostly panic attacks? They treated with Valium! She did say that it does sound crazy now but we are taught by old doctors that do not want to change! Who were also taught by old doctors that do not want change.

Be Well

in reply to Offcut

Ah ...I remember Mother telling me not to be silly when I couldn't breathe...wasn't diagnosed until I'd left home...Docs were ok though...!

Offcut profile image
Offcut in reply to

one of my old doc's told me not to worry about my heart going a bit strange. 5 years later I was told I had a heart problem and since had at least 14 procedures that might of been reduced if found earlier?

Dragonmum profile image
Dragonmum

As a profession I think medics are probably the most hide-bound and closed-minded. Their "Union" the BMA ditto!

in reply to Dragonmum

Glad I don't live in England...

Thank heavens I live in Ireland...we're all lunatics here...lol

TwinklingStar profile image
TwinklingStar

In 1974 just a week after my 18th Birthday I was admitted to a Lunatic Asylum although by this time they were generally referred to as Mental Institutions. Three weeks before my 18th Birthday party I had stopped taking my pain medications so that I could celebrate "coming of age" by having my first alcoholic drink. The medications did not work much at all as they were the wrong type of medication for the condition I was suffering from. At my Party after serving my guests with their drinks I prepared myself a drink. It was all measured carefully exactly as my Father had shown me. It was nothing very strong just a very small amount of Cinzano in a large tall tumbler type glass with the rest of the glass filled with just lemonade. I was quite thirsty as it was very hot and I had been serving the other drinks for a while so I did take quite a large first gulp. After taking the next mouthful and within less than 10 minutes I collapsed on the floor and missed the rest of my Birthday party.

No-one realised that I had had a dangerous adverse reaction to alcohol. No-one knew that I had been born with a genetic Connective Tissue Disorder and that because alcohol is a muscle relaxant it had caused me to collapse and become unconscious. I was accused of taking excessive amounts of my pain medication with excessive amounts of alcohol. I was admitted to the Lunatic Asylum a week later. I ended up being there from 6th June 1974 until being temporarily released home for Christmas. (I had then escaped and I never returned.)

While I was in there I met many people suffering from Epilepsy, Diabetes, Multiple Sclerosis and a dear old lady whose sister had died and who was there because she was crying frequently! I was not admitted under a section. However, every time I tried to leave I was brought back by the Police as I was classed as being "a risk to myself". I was forced to take hundreds of terrible drugs. If I refused I was held down and injected with even worse drugs. The drugs made me like I was a zombie with my mouth dropped on one side, the drugs caused me to speak like someone with severe Cerebral Palsy, and made me continuously dribble. I was left with excruciating pain because they did not believe I had anything physically wrong with me and so they refused to prescribe me any pain medications.

I witnessed a 17 year old stab herself straight in the stomach with a pair of large scissors that she had smuggled in. I witnessed an 18 year old run along the front of the hospital and punch out over 15 kitchen windows right through - windows which were specially strengthened with wire inside the glass. A girl of 21 had been admitted after stealing some paracetamol tablets from a drugs trolley while she was training to be a nurse. She was devastated as she felt that she did not want to live if she could not continue her goal to become a nurse. Every single day she would attempt to kill herself. One day she slashed her throat right in front of me.

About three days after I was admitted a walk had been arranged. I decided that as there were some very old people that they would not be walking too far and despite the fact I had, at this stage, already had 12 of the 13 operations on my feet and that during the 10th operation I had been left with a condition called Causalgia. This condition is caused by specific damage to root nerves usually following surgery or damage from an object such as a needle hitting a root nerve. To prevent the pain I was forced to walk with a limp to avoid my foot coming into contact with the ground because if anything touches the affected area the pain shoots up the whole length of the nerves right up to under my breasts. It is an excruciatingly painful condition. On the day of the walk I made it to the end of the hospital driveway but by this time all the operation sites were painful, my feet were already blistered, and I could feel they were wet because they blisters had burst and some areas were bleeding. I asked to return to the hospital because I could go no further and I would never be able to get back if they did not let me go back now. I was accused of walking with a limp for attention, accused of making up the fact that I had had 12 operations, accused of basically having nothing wrong at all with my feet and that I was doing everything for attention. They refused to let me return so I gradually lagged behind and hid in the bushes and managed to struggle back to the hospital. I was crying and in so much pain so I hid in an upstairs room in the hospital crying and sobbing in a corner of a games room up there. I had only been in there 3 days and I was already a broken destroyed wreck! When they found me three staff physically dragged me down really long corridors, dragged me down the stairs to my ward where the ward nurse took over. She stripped all my clothes from my body, and strip searched me front and back. I began to laugh hysterically, I was actually crying at the same time. She accused me of laughing at her and slapped me round the face so hard that I fell over. The next day I requested to see the Psychiatrist and explained about all the operations on my feet and asked to be excused from the walks and some other physical activities. He did not believe me and for just the second time in my life I raised my voice. I did not shout. I just said in a very assertive voice "Well I could just take off my socks and shoes and show you all the scars but you probably would not even have the sense to believe what you would see with your own eyes. Why don't you just pick up the phone and telephone "Area XXXX" (number of the hospital) and ask the hospital to send my records so you can read the details for yourself." I could see he was completely shocked as I was a very quiet polite child and he was so shocked he just could not think of anything to say. Anyway I was not prepared to extend the discussion so just got up and struggled to limp out of the room.

I was extremely sensitive to the sun and it was the Heat Wave of 1974 and the temperatures were excessively high. I asked if we could sit in the shade because the heat and sun were damaging me. Also the heat was causing all my operation sites to burn and throb with pain. Once again my request was refused. One day at dinner time which was around 6 pm we all decided to do a kind of survey and we all arranged to count how many tablets we were forced to take. They were already giving me 32 tablets for just the 3rd dose of the day. We were forced to take the tablets morning, lunch time, dinner time around 6 pm and then more just before bed time. I came out of that hospital completely physically and mentally destroyed. I watched people die after being given ECT treatment. Every time something frightening happened I would go into a state of hysteria and giggle continuously - this had been brought on by the way I had been abused during the first week of me being admitted there. Every time this happened the Staff accused to me of having taken illegal drugs which I had never even heard of and every time they would rip off my clothes and strip search me.

I watched people do terrible things and I still suffer from PTSD because of all the stuff I went through. I am even crying now because I will never recover from all the damage they have caused me. This is only a snippet of the things that happened to me during my seven month stay. I was a young 18 year old who had led a sheltered life as I had been disabled since being a young child. I was a sweet little girl who looked more like a 13 year old. My whole life since the age of 10 evolved round singing in my local church choir and visiting elderly lonely people in our Parish. Immediately before being admitted to this Lunatic Asylum I had been working full time as an Insurance Clerk. I know I will never recover from the damage that all of this caused me. My GP had failed to notify the Psychiatrist about my skeletal abnormalities and other medical history. What happened to me during those 7 months was truly horrific not only for me but for many other patients I met there. I could not believe that in 1974 people were being treated in this outrageous way. It was lucky they considered me well enough to go home for Christmas otherwise I would have probably ended up being in there for the rest of my life. After they have broken you down to being a complete wreck and destroyed you both mentally and physically it can then appear that - Hey Presto!! - You now NEED PSYCHIACTRIC TREATMENT!!

Azure_Sky profile image
Azure_Sky in reply to TwinklingStar

Oh my god, how awful. My mother was first admitted to an asylum when she was 24 years old. She had lost so much weight and was 6 stone. I was two at the time and can remember being in a cot with black iron bars. The walls were green tiles. My Aunt and Uncle came for fetch me. They wanted to adopt me but Mother refused to allow it. I was with my Aunt and Uncle for two years and was very happy there.

Grandfather fetched mother out of the Asylum and she wanted me back. I can remember we stayed in Coventry, it was a big bomb site then.

Mother did have a genuine mental illness, she would have spells of mania and depression. She would get paranoid and talk about the other world. She would get ill every two years or so. She was very frightening when in a highly manic state and blamed me for ruining her life.

Ironically, she enjoyed hospital life when she was recovering. There were dances, occupational therapy and other activities. She did tell me about all the drugs and how horrific electric shock therapy was. It used be done with no anesthetic.

She had a very hard life. When she was 56 (1979) she killed herself. She had seen a psychiatrist who wanted her to go back to hospital, such was her fear and dread of hospital and electric shock treatment.

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