It has happened to me more times than I can count. I'll start. This instance was during one of my first hospitalizations one night around 11pm while shift change was happening; because of this the staff was distracted enough for me to plan my escape. 

The patio was open and there was a "window" made of an extremely strong metal screen with a wood board behind it. I noticed I could remove the heavy porcelain top of my room's toilet (which, looking back, is insane to think about) so I wrapped it in my blanket and rushed it out to the patio where in my mind I would swing it at the window, break through, and jump a few fences to freedom. 

Without trying, I somehow came to the conclusion (rare manic clarity moment lol) that the screen was way too durable to be broken in this fashion so instead of swinging away I just laid the toilet cover on the patio bench underneath the blanket and sat waiting for someone to come outside. 

Finally a staff member approached me and asked if I was ok. I slowly peeled the blanket off, revealed the porcelain chunk, and just stared him down menacingly as if he could read my mind. I was trying to convey the message that I was going to use it to break out, but obviously he was concerned I was gonna try fucking someone up with it. Somehow he convinced me to hand it over to him and come inside to "talk it out." As soon as I walked inside far enough to be mere feet from the "quiet room" he had apparently informed the other staff about what I did so next thing I know one of them grabs my arm, I rip their hand off, and then 3 huge staff members are all grabbing at me at once trying to get me into the quiet room. 

Although I've been arrested quite a few times and each time acted peacefully without struggling one bit, this situation is different to me because 1. these staff members always physically engage you suddenly without warning once they all decide they want you to shut up and sleep for 36 hours and 2. the end game means exposing my bare ass to someone for shots, which is degrading.  For these reasons it's my natural response to try my hardest to get away.

 So after what was probably almost 5 minutes of me throwing punches and breaking their grips off of my body and limbs repeatedly, they finally got me close to inside the quiet room. Close. I was using all my strength to brace myself between the door jambs with my hands and feet as all three of these bodyguard-sized staff members were trying to push me through and onto the bed. They tried for what felt like an eternity to push me through but I wasn't budging. My extreme scenario nervous system was fully activated and they couldn't move me. Finally out of nowhere something came crashing into me from behind and thrusted me through the door frame onto the bed. Shortly thereafter I defeated and was given the booty juice, regaining consciousness days later. 

I didn't understand how the staff managed to get me through the door until I spoke to the 4th member of the night shift days later, whose name was Stacy. The only reason a female was allowed on the overnight shift at this ward was because she was 6'2" and capable of takedowns if called upon, as the overnight shift has the potential to be the shift where takedowns are most often needed. Anyway, she told me that she was standing across the hallway about 6 feet behind me while her 3 coworkers were pushing against my back unsuccessfully for ages. She couldn't help but laugh while she was telling me that I "looked like a cat trying to avoid a bath" with my arms and legs were outstretched between the door frame. She said she was planning on letting the guys handle the situation until she realized they weren't gonna be able to, so she ran full speed into the pile of men and broke through, which sent me flying into the room. 

Since Stacy was the coolest, most caring and helpful staff member I ever met at that place, I was more proud of her than anything. She was always the first one to talk me down from suicidal moments and actually helped me avoid injections on multiple occasions. The last time I saw her was a year ago during my last admission. By that time she had finished her graduate schooling and paid a special visit to the ward (that she didn't work at anymore) to be my stand-in one-on-one therapist. Unfortunately in order to protect staff members, their last names are never revealed to the patients so I'll likely never see her again, but she told me during our therapy session that she still tells the story of the incredible cat-like patient that almost escaped the booty juice.