In 2011-2012 I was in a ward for eating disorders where I spent 6 months, while it was a very difficult time in my life of course the ward was super cozy and had a homey feel sometimes. It was next to the general hospital but still separate, so it didn't feel as hospital-y as my other experiences, which was important. We had a daily schedule and ate 5 times a day, there were lots of rules involving eating which back then made me so incredibly angry but now that I'm in a better place I can see that they were very important for our recovery. There were about 8 girls in the ward at once, so by living with them you could get quiet close to them. In our ward, recovery was a bit like gain weight --> gain privileges and lose weight --> lose privileges. These would include things like being able to go for walks, being able to visit home for short visits, being able to put your own food on your plate (with nurse supervision of course). During down time I would read or knit, others would go to the hospital school. Even though I was constantly surrounded by others though, it was still very lonely, and I was 13 at the time so would cry daily for all those months. Some nurses were nicer than others, but generally it was very nice as psychiatric wards go. During Christmas, I was still too underweight to go home so I spent a month in the suicide/cutting/depression ward instead of the eating disorder one. That one was pretty similar to mine just the rules were a bit different and were catered towards suicide attempts rather than obsessive working out/hiding food/throwing up attempts. This ward was in Finland. Next time I was hospitalized was in Singapore, a few years later because eating disorders are pretty fucking hard to get rid of. This time, the eating disorder ward was in an actual hospital, meaning hospital beds, hospital gowns, etc. This one sucked ass because the environment was so uncomfortable, I had to be rolled around in a wheelchair and nurses watched me when I peed. I think strangely the toilet part was the worst. Due to bulimia concerns, I had to be watched when I used the toilet and my toilet would always be locked during the night, meaning I would often cry in the early hours of the morning because I needed to pee so fucking much. Also, the ward wasn't solely for eating disorders meaning there were people with other issues and also very old people who were near death, so that made me really scared and just the atmosphere sucked. They wanted me to gain 1 kg a week, which is very very hard and if i didn't then I'd have to make up for what I didn't gain IN ADDITION to gaining a kg another week, thus pretty much a cycle of not being able to gain enough for their unfairly high standards, meaning it was a long ass time until I could visit home. Basically - wards can be pretty nice as long as they are not in the actual hospital. The lack of freedom sucked but thats what you need if you have to be in a ward in the first place.