In the UK, unless you're going in for some kind of inpatient program admissions tend to be emergency purely due to the lack of beds available. Even in emergencies, they can't always find you a bed.
With me it started with a GP appointment. I was seeing her once a week due to depression and had attempted a few months before. It was a hideous appointment, I had self harmed badly and I could barely speak. She called my husband in who was waiting outside and very matter of factly told him she thought I needed admitting and if I didn't go in voluntarily, they would have to section me. She sat us in an empty office until the crisis team arrived to make the arrangements. We sat in there for two or three hours while we waited for them to find a bed and fill in all the paperwork and then we were told to go home, pack a bag and arrive at the hospital at 9pm. It all felt very calm, I guess I was feeling quite numb. None of it felt real.
As we were driving to the hospital, the fear set in and by time we got there I was terrified and crying. It was so worse than I'd imagined, a cross between a hospital and a prison with not a single ounce of homeliness or comfort visible. We were shown into a room where the duty psychiatrist asked pages and pages of questions and ticked loads of boxes. Me and my bag were both searched for anything prohibited and then it was time to say goodbye to my husband and be shown to my room. There was a female and a male corridor with 6 rooms on each, all with ensuite shower rooms, a TV room, kitchen (complete with plastic mugs and plastic cutlery) and an outside area.
It was noisy and everyone seemed to be very angry in there and it scared the hell out of me. As I was a voluntary patient I could leave the hospital with permission so I spent most of my days in the cafe down the road. There was no kind of therapy on offer in there and I never saw another psychiatrist or anyone other than the day to day care workers (who were all lovely) until I discharged myself two weeks later.
I'm glad I went in when I did. I don't know what I'd have done that day but it probably wouldn't have been good. It was the right thing to do at that point. But ultimately, it also wasn't going to help me to get better once I was over that pure crisis point. Does that make sense?
All hospitals are of course different and have different ways of doing things so I can only speak for my experience in that hospital.