What a Jail Cell Taught Me About Broken Mental Health Care
Psychology Today | 22.07.2026 22:22
The segregation cell, the jail's antiseptic name for solitary confinement, was about four feet by four feet. Beige brick, a red steel door, a six-inch window of scratched plexiglass that looked out on nothing. No horizon. No depth. For a man in the full grip of mania, it was close to unbearable. The air felt thin. My mind ricocheted off the walls.
