Woodbourne Priory Hospital

My time at Woodbourne Priory was a heart-wrenching journey—one that exposed the systemic failures of the mental health care system. While a handful of staff members offered me hope and humanity, their kindness was the exception, not the rule.

While there were staff members who truly cared, it became evident that not everyone shared the same commitment to patient well-being. I began to notice a troubling pattern: some staff seemed to view their roles as nothing more than jobs—a paycheck rather than a calling. Their lack of empathy and detachment made me feel more like a burden than a human being in need of care. It was disheartening to realize that the very professionals entrusted with supporting vulnerable individuals were, in some cases, indifferent to their suffering.
Without warning or explanation, I was informed that I was being transferred to another hospital. I remember seeing the transport team outside my bedroom and feeling immediate panic. I was given no opportunity to process this decision, to ask questions, or to understand why this was happening. The staff offered no communication or reassurance. I was simply told, “You’re being transferred.” It was as though my feelings, my relationships with the staff I trusted, and my fragile sense of security were irrelevant. I was devastated.

Worse still, my family—my greatest source of support—was kept completely in the dark. Earlier that day, my father had tried to arrange a visit and was told there were no available times. Legally, as my next of kin, he should have been informed about my transfer, but the staff chose not to communicate this critical information. Instead of involving my father, as they were obligated to do, they proceeded with the transfer without his knowledge or consent. Just hours later, I was physically restrained and forcibly removed from the environment where I had begun to feel somewhat safe.
When I resisted the transfer out of confusion and fear, I was physically restrained. This experience was not only traumatic but deeply humiliating. I was already unwell and recovering physically, yet my protests were met with force rather than compassion. I was restrained, dragged to the transport vehicle, and left with bruises on my arms and wrists—physical reminders of the emotional pain I endured that day.

During this ordeal, I pleaded for help. I begged, through tears, for someone to comfort me, to explain what was happening, or to show a shred of kindness. Instead, I was met with cold indifference. The ward manager, a figure I had trusted, stood and watched as I struggled. Worse still, he smiled—not a reassuring or understanding smile, but a cruel, mocking grin that made me feel utterly dehumanized. He even assisted the transport team in forcing me into the van. In that moment, I felt like nothing. I felt abandoned, humiliated, and powerless.

I left Woodbourne feeling betrayed, abandoned, and more broken than when I arrived. I hope that by sharing my story, I can shine a light on these failures and push for the changes that are so desperately needed. No one deserves to be treated the way I was, and it is my hope that my experience can serve as a catalyst for accountability and reform.

My nephew is in Beech Ward at Woodbourne Priory. he was moved there after a brief time elsewhere. whilst in there his family were able to visit between 11am and 8pm. he responds very well to the support of his very caring and very loving family. now he has been moved (against the better judgement of family and as a result of finance and bed numbers on the nhs part) his family/girlfriend have one hour per week to see him. as part of the mental health sector, how can this be deemed in the best interests of any patient when we know that social support and social interaction are crucial in the rehabilitation process? the reason given is Covid. our country has moved in from such limitations.

They were helpful and supportive but didn’t offer enough therapies. I have spend time in inpatients.

My son was sectioned under section 3. He was transferred to home treatment by FTB under a 117. When the hospital discharged him, they did not add on the discharge paperwork that he needs (depakote) mood stabiliser medication. This left him without essential medication for one week and the FTB needed to be chasing the hospital for authorising of his medication. He was in a highly vulnerable stage at this stage and the lack of essential medication left him even more vulnerable. He actually rang the hospital asked to be able to go back to priory and they just told him go to A&E. His discharge should have been dealt with in a more sensible way. His support and care in the community was not fully in place at the time of his discharge and this should not be happening!

I have been in different mental hospitals last year as my mental health has gone down and I had a break down. In Woodbourne Priory I was picked on by staff e.g. being scratched by staff members and even pushed and having staff members shout in my ear.

Dreadful communication by nurses and doctors.
Poor phone access to switchboard out of hours and dreadful phone access to some of wards at any time.
Obsessive, inflexible rules for parents as well as patients.
Poor weekend service for when problems arise.
No attention to detail in order to give optimal care or even accurate diagnosis.
Very little addressing of concerns raised as they happen and sluggish initial response even after complaint submitted.

I was helped so much here. Much better than other hospitals I have been in. Staff really listened and helped. My doctor gave me loads of time and she explained things really well. The therapists gave lots of good advice and my family therapist was great. Highly recommended but once there you don't want to leave.