NHS inpatient, twice in 2013, not a high secure ward. Aged 23.
First time: was on a ward, one woman was muttering about wanting to kill someone. One lady had dementia and was elderly; she would have episodes of being mean and verbally attacking everyone, then she'd scream when they gave her a depot. Male and female wards were separate (for sleeping) but communal areas were mixed. Two patients were dating. One male patient befriended me and at one point sexually assaulted me when I was in a bad place, I didn't know how to speak up so it was never dealt with.
The nurses and HCAs were mixed. Everyone knew who the "good ones" were and avoided the bad. Some wouldn't give sleeping pills and PRN meds as a sort of power trip. Others would give what was on your chart. One nurse was an evil witch who would tell you off for crying or curling up in a ball, saying you were making yourself sicker and you needed to think positive.
The OT was an amazing, lovely woman, genuinely caring and sweet and responsible in her role.
A girl a year younger than me smashed a glass window and used the glass to slit her own throat. Then walked around dripping blood all over the floor. It was shallow but looked scary. We weren't allowed to leave the ward. Patients were crying and screaming and getting set off. They called the police but allowed her to stay. She had some kind of personality disorder.
One man had bipolar and epilepsy and frequently fitted. We'd be shut in the lounge while they stabilised him and not allowed to leave. This happened nearly every day.
I was voluntary but they didn't let me leave the ward for an entire week because they wanted the psych to approve it first and he didn't visit the ward until a week after I got there. You could only go out to smoke, onto a balcony, so I took up smoking.
One boy with schizophrenia (I think) laughed to himself a lot, masturbated in communal rooms and then smashed up our computer.
A schizoaffective, paranoid patient kept waking me up in the night and asking if people were watching her. She eventually escaped.
2nd time: my hoody was confiscated because they thought I'd hang myself with the strings, and they almost took away the panda bear toy I've had since birth because they thought I might have hidden razor blades in there (totally baseless; i was a very cooperative patient even though I was suffering psychotic bipolar depression). I felt like a caged animal and had no privacy; my door wasn't allowed to be locked. One girl was suffering mania from cocaine abuse and kept stealing from people and talking a mile a minute. Another patient kept yelling that aliens were persecuting black people and trying to beat up the staff. My mum ended up effectively getting me out of there because I was petrified of the environment. She said she could manage me at home.
I wouldn't go back on a ward unless I lost contact with reality completely again. Hopefully that will never happen.