Novaya-Europe published a report on everyday life inside one Russian neuropsychiatric residential institution. The story is based on a four-day diary kept by an employee who, at the редакция’s request, recorded events on a voice recorder and spoke with a journalist each evening; the newsroom also obtained photographs and videos. Her name, job title and the institution’s name were withheld for safety reasons, and all patients’ and staff members’ names were changed.
The article says that these institutions remain highly closed environments, while people with mental disorders who have no family support often have no alternative in Russia. It describes multiple restrictions: residents cannot freely control daily routines, leave the grounds or build ordinary social ties, although they still try to find enjoyment in books, drawing, concerts and occasional outings.
Three wards and a strict regime
The institution described has a general ward, a locked ward and a mercy ward. All places are occupied, so a new resident can enter only after one of the current residents leaves. New arrivals are usually placed in the locked ward for three months for assessment; people with severe physical disabilities who need constant care are the main exception.
The mercy ward mostly houses bedridden elderly patients, four to six people to a room. Wooden commode chairs stand by the beds and, according to the employee, the ward constantly smells of urine and damp rags. She describes the locked ward as the harshest area: it houses both newcomers and patients whom psychiatrists consider dangerous to themselves or others. Conditions there, she says, differ little from prison: rooms for six to eight people, meals passed through small openings in the doors, and movement allowed only with staff permission.
The general ward is less restrictive. Residents can work as cleaners or kitchen helpers and receive 3,000 to 15,000 rubles a month. A small privileged group, no more than about twenty people, may travel into town with a special pass after approval by a psychiatric panel. Inside the institution, residents are occupied with clubs, excursions, dancing and lectures.
Letters, concerts and the library
One episode centers on the library where the main witness works. A resident named Viktor, previously imprisoned for murder, comes looking for a letter from a volunteer. For many people in the institution, such correspondence is their only connection with the outside world. The report says that all letters are read by nurses before delivery: officially to prevent the transfer of personal data, but, according to the employee, also to filter out complaints about living conditions.
“For example, if a patient writes that orderlies yell at them. Our orderlies don’t yell,” the employee says ironically.
The report then follows an ordinary day: drawing up a list of 12 residents from the locked ward for an online concert, delivering mail, handing out certificates for children’s academic contests, making paper appliques and listening to conversations in the library. In the employee’s account, such activities become an important part of residents’ lives and one of the few chances to feel noticed and included.