The Night We Fought Back: Escaping Sandstone Mental Hospital

Read my horrifying story of escaping Sandstone Mental Hospital in College Station, Texas. As the nightmare at Sandstone raged on, the abuse only escalated.

By this point, I wasn’t the only one from my neighborhood trapped in that hell. Two of my friends had also been thrown into Sandstone alongside me, making it even more unbearable. We were just kids, trying to survive in a place that seemed to thrive on breaking us.

We had finally reached our limit. Together, we decided to fight back, stick together, and take control of whatever little power we had left.

We were not going to endure this torture quietly anymore. But the night we fought back became a turning point that changed everything, a night none of us would ever forget.

Bonding Through Trauma: Meeting Chris

By the time the rebellion started brewing, I had also met my first love, Chris. Like me, Chris had been thrown into Sandstone by his mother, who was extremely religious and strict.

We connected deeply, sharing the same pain, confusion, and fear. It was a bond that grew stronger with each passing day—a connection unlike anything I had ever felt before.

Our group now consisted of my two neighborhood friends, Chris, and myself. One of my friends, also named Chris, became known as Chris M. to avoid confusion with my first love, Chris A.

We were all determined to survive, but the darkness surrounding us made it feel impossible at times.

Escaping Sandstone: How We Survived the Nightmare Within

The chaos really began when our youngest friend, just nine years old, locked herself in her room after a terrifying confrontation with the staff.

She was scared and losing control, barricading the door with her mattress so they couldn’t get in. The rest of us—Chris A., Chris M., and I—heard the commotion from down the hall and rushed to check on her. After coaxing her to open the door, things quickly escalated.

A large nurse, weighing easily 250 pounds, suddenly appeared and grabbed me by the arm. She dragged me around the corner, pinned me to the ground, and then sat on me with her full weight, literally crushing me.

I was only 110 pounds at the time, and I was fighting for my life beneath her suffocating bulk.

The others—Chris A., Chris M., and our friend—rounded the corner just in time to see what was happening. Without hesitation, they jumped on the nurse, pulling her off of me so I could finally breathe.

We were furious by then, and together we fought back. When the other nurses came to intervene, we battled them as well.

It was chaos, but we weren’t going down without a fight.

A Mother’s Instinct: My Parents Arrive

While all of this was happening, my mom had a gut feeling that something was terribly wrong. She called Sandstone, but the staff kept hanging up on her.

Refusing to be dismissed, she told my stepfather David to get the van ready so they could come check on us. They drove out to Sandstone, determined to find out what was happening.

When they arrived, they were told to sit and wait in the lobby. As they waited, my mom heard a blood-curdling scream—my scream.

She knew it was me and jumped up, ready to find me. David tried to calm her down, reasoning that there were 30 kids in the facility, but she wasn’t having it.

When she heard me scream again, she bolted through the only unlocked door in the building, with David right behind her.

As they turned the corner into the hallway, they found me pinned to the ground by two massive, bodybuilder-type men, trying to inject me with something.

My stepfather David yelled at them to get off me, but they ignored him. Furious, he demanded again, this time with more force, telling them to get the hell off of his daughter. Only then did they release me, and I scrambled to my feet, desperate to escape.

Escaping Sandstone: How We Overcame the Hell of the Mental Hospital

I was terrified. I didn’t know where to run, but I knew I had to get out. I ended up in an employee coffee station, where I found two coffee pots filled with coffee.

In my panic, I dumped the coffee out, broke the sides of the pots, and wielded them as makeshift weapons. I was determined to leave that place—one way or another.

With coffee pot shards in each hand, I made my way back down the hallway. The men who had pinned me down stood in my path, but David warned them, “If I were you, I’d let her pass. Because if you don’t, she’ll cut you, and then you’ll have to deal with me.”

They backed off, and I ran straight for the front door.

As soon as I was outside, I heard the staff yelling behind me, “Lock the door and don’t let that crazy bitch back in here!” But I had no intention of ever going back. However, my friends, including Chris, were still inside, and I couldn’t just leave them behind.

I ran around to the back of the building in hopes of escaping Sandstone, only to be confronted by a 6’8” counselor waiting for me. He grabbed me, overpowering me despite my kicks and punches, and dragged me back to the padded room.

By now, I was hysterical. The torture had gone on long enough, and I had completely reached my breaking point.

Escaping Sandstone: The Night of Defiance That Led to Freedom

Meanwhile, my parents were already contacting the other parents of my friends, letting them know what was happening. Before long, everyone’s parents had arrived at Sandstone to get us out. We left that night, never to return. But the trauma of that place has haunted me ever since.

I’m 49 years old now, with three grown children I raised on my own. Despite everything I’ve survived, the memories of Sandstone still haunt me. But the story doesn’t end here. Eugene, the nurse who had taken a special interest in me, had a plan all along. In my next post, I’ll share how he continued to torment me even after I left Sandstone.

Stay tuned for my next post, where I reveal Eugene’s dark intentions and how I finally broke free from his grasp.