I'm one of 9 patients suing an Arkansas psych facility for false imprisonment. I only wanted to see a therapist but was trapped for over a week.

• Darrius Racy is suing, saying he was illegally held against his will at a psychiatric facility.
• Racy says he saw patients being forcibly sedated just for asking questions about their situations.

This is an as-told-to essay based on a conversation with Darrius Racy, one of nine plaintiffs suing Dr. Brian Hyatt and Northwest Medical Center for false imprisonment. Racy alleges in the lawsuit, which he has summarized to Insider, that he was held against his will, illegally, at Northwest's inpatient behavioral health unit between March 31, 2022, and April 7, 2022. Dr. Hyatt's private practice and an attorney representing him have not responded to multiple requests for comment, but a Northwest spokesperson said he is no longer on contract. Northwest has since hired new providers for behavioral health patients. "We take very seriously our responsibility to provide a safe environment of care for our patients and for our team members," their statement said. This essay has been edited for length and clarity.

In March of 2022, I was struggling with my mental health and sought help at a hospital, thinking I could speak to a therapist there. Instead, I was trapped inside Northwest Medical Center's behavioral health unit for eight days. I was not suicidal, and posed no danger to myself or others, but nobody would let me leave. Now, I'm suing the facility and the doctor in charge.

Long story short, I was having a horrible day at a new job at a fast-food restaurant. Life had gotten rough. I told a superior at the restaurant what I was dealing with, and how I was having trouble trying to find a therapist. He advised me to go to the emergency room.

At my local hospital, staff asked me questions about suicide. I told them I've had suicidal thoughts before, but not at this moment. I just really needed a therapist, somebody to talk to. I don't have anybody — I'm from the foster system, with no family.

They asked me if I'd be open to inpatient therapy and I told them I was not. They told me I was going to be seeing a doctor. When I was finally introduced to the doctor, she told me I couldn't leave. I was on a 72-hour involuntary hold.

I started asking, "Why? What is going on?" She immediately told me I needed to calm down — that I'm being aggressive. Even though this whole time I'm sitting, while she's standing over me. The next morning, they took me by ambulance to Northwest Medical Center's inpatient behavioral health unit.

My roommate at Northwest gave me the rundown: "Hey man, you're gonna have to get through it. They're not gonna let you leave. The more you ask, the more time's gonna be added on."

In my head I thought, "Maybe if I ask respectfully, maybe if I explain why I shouldn't be here, they'll understand that I'm telling the truth and let me go." But when I saw the "provider" the next morning, it was the complete opposite. She started questioning my story, acting like I was lying.

The entire unit was small, cramped, and plain. There was no space anywhere, no color, and little sunlight. The staff wore no name tags, and I couldn't tell what their job titles were. Some staff were called "providers" and wore scrubs with lab coats. Other staff wore street clothes or sweatpants.

After 72 hours passed, I started asking more questions. "Why am I still here? When am I getting discharged? What's going on?" The 72-hour involuntary hold was clearly over. That's when they told me it's up to them how long I stay. I have to "show more progress." I have to eat more food, participate in group therapy.

As I eventually detailed in my lawsuit, they told me I had to take a medication, without even telling me what it was. They told me I wouldn't get out of there anytime soon unless I took the medication. So I took it.

I received no mental health treatment at Northwest, besides "group therapy," where patients would talk about our favorite Sonic drinks or our favorite candies. We would color. Sometimes we would watch wrestling.

I only encountered Dr. Brian Hyatt — the psychiatrist overseeing the unit — once, and I believe it was for less than two minutes. Dr. Hyatt stopped by the room, and didn't even come inside. He asked me how I was doing and how group therapy was going. That's it.

I felt completely helpless, in disbelief, in shock. It was an out of body experience. I went to the hospital looking for help, and they've got me in here in scrubs, coloring.

I also described in my lawsuit that I witnessed one agitated patient get beaten up by an orderly or hospital attendant and thrown back in his room. I saw another young male patient get violently shoved up against a wall until he was injected with a sedative shortly after I arrived at the unit.

Several days later, I witnessed an older woman get forcibly injected. Both the young man and the older woman were crying and just trying to figure out what was going on with their situations.

In both cases, three large, male staff members ran in and flipped the patients onto the beds. Everybody kneeled down on a limb, and then injected the patient. I heard the woman screaming in despair for what seemed like 15 minutes before her yelling stopped. When there were outbursts like that, they took them up to the fourth floor, and that's where all the unruly patients were.

I learned you cannot show any type of emotion there at all, or they'll use that against you. Staff would threaten to make you stay longer if you weren't complying with their orders, or if you argued with them. The only time I was able to actually let my emotions go was when everybody was eating, and I would sneak off to the shower and have a nice hard cry.

I phoned my girlfriend and told her, "We gotta do something. They're not gonna let me leave at all." I whispered and spoke in code because the phone was so close to where the nurses sat. My girlfriend called her uncle, who got in contact with a lawyer, who advised that we tell Northwest they'll file a court order demanding my release.

I can't say for sure that was the reason they went ahead and let me go, but it feels like it was. I ended up being there for about eight days before I was discharged.

Mentally, this is the worst thing I've ever had to overcome in my life. And I've been through a lot. I'm now seeing a therapist and am still working through the trauma I experienced there.

Shortly after my discharge, I tried to accept what would be the highest-paying job I had in my life. I was finally about to get back on track, but I had a breakdown. I couldn't handle it. It felt so random and embarrassing.

I'm doing better now, but I've just been trying to tell myself that I'm okay, and that I didn't deserve what they did to me. That's why I'm not afraid to tell my story, as hard as it is. I need people to understand what's going on.

I didn't even know it was possible to go to a hospital and be put on a 72-hour hold. If I would've known it was, I probably would've never gone there in the first place.

I do really feel like this is a whole system in play, involving everybody from the intake, to the hospital, to the behavioral health unit. I don't understand how this was allowed to happen.