Category Archives: Truth

GRINCHMAS…HOW THE TRUMP STOLE AMERICA

HOW THE TRUMP STOLE AMERICA

 

By John Pavlovitz

 

In a land where the states are united, they claim,

in a sky-scraping tower adorned with his name,

lived a terrible, horrible, devious chump,

the bright orange miscreant known as the Trump.

 

This Trump he was mean, such a mean little man,

with the tiniest heart and two tinier hands,

and a thin set of lips etched in permanent curl,

and a sneer and a scowl and contempt for the world.

 

He looked down from his perch and he grinned ear to ear,

and he thought, “I could steal the election this year!

It’d be rather simple, it’s so easily won,

I’ll just make them believe that their best days are done!

Yes, I’ll make them believe that it’s all gone to Hell,

and I’ll be Jerk Messiah and their souls they will sell.

 

And I’ll use lots of words disconnected from truth,

but I’ll say them with style so they won’t ask for proof.

I’ll toss out random platitudes, phrases, and such,

They’re so raised on fake news that it won’t matter much!

They won’t question the how to, the what, why, or when,

I will make their America great once again!”

 

The Trump told them to fear, they should fear he would say,

“They’ve all come for your jobs, they’ll all take them away.

You should fear every Muslim and Mexican too,

every brown, black, and tan one, everyone who votes blue.”

 

And he fooled all the Christians, he fooled them indeed,

He just trotted out Jesus, that’s all Jesus folk need.

And celebrity preachers they all crowned him as king,

Tripping over themselves just to kiss the Trump’s ring.

 

And he spoke only lies just as if they were true,

Until they believed all of those lies were true too.

He repeated and Tweeted and he blustered and spit,

And he mislead and fibbed—and he just made up sh*t.

 

And the media laughed but they printed each line,

thinking “he  never will win, in the end we’ll be fine.”

So they chased every headline, bold typed every claim,

‘Till the fake news and real news they looked just the same.

 

And the scared folk who listened, they devoured each word,

Yes, they ate it all up every word that they heard,

petrified that their freedom was under attack,

trusting Trump he would take their America back.

From the gays and from ISIS, he’d take it all back,

Take it back from the Democrats, fat cats, and blacks.

And so hook, line, and sinker they all took the bait,

all his lies about making America great.

 

Now the Pant-suited One she was smart and prepared,

she was brilliant and steady but none of them cared,

no they cared not to see all the work that she’d done,

or the fact that the Trump had not yet done thing one.

They could only shout “Emails!”, yes “Emails!” they’d shout,

because Fox News had told them—and Fox News had clout.

And the Pant-suited One she was slandered no end,

and a lie became truth she could never defend.

And the Trump watched it all go according to plan—

a strong woman eclipsed by an insecure man.

 

And November the 8th arrived, finally it came,

like a slow-moving storm but it came just the same.

And Tuesday became Wednesday  as those days will do,

And the night turned to morning and the nightmare came true,

With millions of non-voters still in their beds,

Yes, the Trump he had done it, just like he had said.

 

And the Trumpers they trumped, how they trumped when he won,

All the racists and bigots; deplorable ones,

they crawled out from the woodwork, came out to raise Hell,

they came out to be hateful and hurtful as well.

With slurs and with road signs, with spray paint and Tweets,

with death threats to neighbors and taunts on the street.

And the grossest of grossness they hurled on their peers,

while the Trump he said zilch—for the first time in years.

 

But he Tweeted at Hamilton, he Tweeted the Times,

And he trolled Alec Baldwin a few hundred times,

and he pouted a pout like a petulant kid,

thinking this is what Presidents actually did,

thinking he could still be a perpetual jerk,

terrified to learn he had to actually work,

work for every American, not just for a few,

not just for the white ones—there was much more to do.

He now worked for the Muslims and Mexicans too,

for the brown, black, and tan ones, and the ones who vote blue.

They were all now his bosses, now they all had a say,

and those nasty pant-suited ones were here to stay.

And the Trump he soon realized that he didn’t win,

He had gotten the thing—and the thing now had him.

 

And it turned out the Trump was a little too late,

for America was already more than quite great,

not because of the sameness, the opposite’s true,

It’s greatness far more than just red, white, and blue,

It’s straight, gay, and female—it’s Gentile and Jew,

It’s Transgender and Christian and Atheist too.

It’s Asians, Caucasians of every kind,

The disabled and abled, the deaf and the blind,

It’s immigrants, Muslims, and brave refugees,

It’s Liberals with bleeding hearts fixed to their sleeves.

And we are all staying, we’re staying right here,

and we’ll be the great bane of the Trump for four years.

And we’ll be twice as loud as the loudness of hate,

be the greatness that makes our America great.

And the Trump’s loudest boasts they won’t ever obscure,

over two million more of us—voted for her.

OPEN LETTER TO JOSEPH LASEK MD: I FORGIVE YOU

Dear Dr Joseph Lasek, as a recent Alyssum guest, i loved your testimonial on the Alyssum website. Your compassionate writing painted an entirely different picture of the man who just a year ago signed an order refusing to release me, a woman who had not been able to speak aloud for days, (indeed i have a history of having been completely mute for months at a time) from 5- point restraints until i spoke out loud.

Yes, the nurse Annette Brennan wrote that order, and informed you not only that i could speak but that i “refused to” and so you, yourself told me in no uncertain terms, that i would remain in restraints until i obeyed your orders.Despite lying quietly and complying with the restraints, triggering an assessment every 15 minutes, your staff refused to ask me the necessary questions to remove even one restraint and left me alone in that room, time after time, motionless and mute, all because they and you had decided to force speech out of me.

Why? Did you believe you had the right to do this? What had i done to you to make you so angry with me? Why didn’t i have a right to communicate however i chose to or needed? I understand that you believed that i *obstinately* refused to speak to you…and you may continue to choose to hold that belief. I cannot change how you think and i refuse to defend my muteness in the face of your ignorant assumptions.

What i will assert is that the use of restraints has never been or should never be about the power you hold over one of your patients, and it should never be about your power to force a patient in restraints to do something you want her to do. In most parts of the world, and in most people’s minds, for you to force me, by means of physical coercion, to speak out loud would be called torture. What else is it?

What did it matter really why i did not speak? So what if i was obstinate, or unable to form words…neither reason matters a fig. Your only justification in keeping me restrained was if you knew or had determined by communicating with me that i was a danger to myself or others. But time and again, you did not even try to find that out, no.

You assumed things, yes, you assumed that if i kicked the nurse, whose groin inappropriately pressed against my bare feet, a sexual maneuver on her part, that i was aggressive. But you refused to ask me what happened or how i felt or what was going on. You used none of your apparently great capacity for empathy when it came to finding out from me what was going on and how to end the situation as quickly as possible (as you claimed was your desire).

If you really wanted me out of restraints asap, why did you refuse to let me communicate in any fashion except speech. You would not even phrase your sentences in such a fashion that i could answer them with a shake or nod of my head.

So this went on for hours, my frustration and anxiety growing since i was told you refused me even 1/2 mg of Ativan for sleep, for mercy sake. Finally nurse Manusukhani asked me the safety questions at 5:00 am and i answered them all, still mute, but satisfactorily. But the restraints were not removed. No, i was left alone for another hour. When the nurses returned they wanted me to write an essay with a safety plan with one hand, upping the humiliation and degradation till i could not take it any more. I simply shut down and refused.

You won, then. You broke me. I have suffered from that torture every day since that night, a year ago. i did not speak aloud that night, and the next shift took me out of the restraints even though it contravened your orders, because they understood it was an illegal order.

How did you feel about that, feel thwarted, angry? Probably, since you had not been able to successfully break me, break my back and force me to speak…sorry, sorry sorry,

The thing is, my speaking had nothing ever to do with you nor my refusal to speak, that was always only your interpretation. Alway only yours and the nurses interpretation. No one ever asked me why i did not speak, they just made assumptions and always they had negative connotations,,,

Why did they always think the worst about me? They knew nothing at all about me. Dr Malloy had never taken any history, and never talked to me, except to talk at me and dictate to me what he would do if i did not obey his orders. What did i do to deserve this? I had an advance directive before i came into VPCH. Did you ever see it before or during the time i was in restraints? It advises to never use restraints or seclusion as i will only get worse and be further traumatized, but it also provided multiple suggestions for what nursing staff can do instead of restraints or seclusion, none were tried in the minutes before Brennan brought that restraints bed into the room.

I think, from your Alyssum testimonial, that you are probably a very nice guy. I liked very much what you wrote there, and i think alyssum is a wonderful wonderful place. I will never go back to a hospital so long as alyssum, is available to me in any fashion. hospitals only and always torture me. People like you misunderstand and hate and torture me, and seem to get pleasure doing so. I do not understand why…

Now i have to tell you, if you have gotten this far, that i have filed a formal complaint against you with the board of medical practice. If i had been been permitted to speak with you and nurse Brennan and the others face to face and use non violent communication techniques to resolve what happened between us, maybe i would not have had to do so. But the psychologist Elliott Benay would not get people to talk with me, as i proposed and instead told me to do what i had to do.

So complaints were filed and the hospital has already been cited for violation of my rights. What will happen will happen. It wont be bad for you, as you can imagine, nothing bad ever happens to doctors, who always walk away from their misdeeds with a slap on the wrist with a wet noodle; their patients suffer the agonies of hell or iatrogenic illness,you know this or you ought to. I dunno what else to say, you are likely preparing a mental defense of yourself and your actions even as you read this, rather than seeing that perhaps i write the truth, and preparing an apology that might go a long way towards healing the suffering you caused me.

Do you think psychiatrists ever apologize for anything? No, i think it is something they cannot bring themselves to do, not to a patient, it would cost them too much pride and suffering, they would rather the patient suffered…

Nevertheless, I forgive you.

Sadly, forgiveness does not seem to heal or help my suffering, or not yet, possibly because i do not believe you will read this letter. Much less respond. Of course you will not respond, who am i but a stupid mental patient?

no, i will tell you who i am. I am a three-time author, one book of mine was a best selling memoir from St Martins Press for many years. I am also an artist and poet, who, if you will forgive me a tiny bit of pride, will one day be more famous than you ever will. Mark my words. *You* may never hear from me again personally, but someday you will see and hear my name often, just wait.

Sincerely, from the 63 year old woman you kept in 5-point restraints last November, because she could not speak.

Pamela Spiro Wagner

–——

so i went to the commissioners hearing to appeal the APS unsubstantiated decision about Annette brennans part in the above, you can find my account of these events elsewhere in my blog if you do a search on VPFH…anyhow, she took umbrage at my asking her not to call me Pam but Miss Wagner, and rubberstamped the Aps results despite my lawyer arguing on my behalf and my presenting a half hour case…here is her decision, which says nothing about the hearing,

img_1534 img_1535

This Post is Dedicated to TakingTheMaskOff.Com and Cortland Pfeffer, With Love

Read the English  Lyrics below first if you need to as this song is in Italian.

HUMAN BEINGS/ESSERI UMANI  or go to this link: https://youtu.be/U-4OrzSBfm8

Thank you, TTMO’s Cortland Pfeffer, you are a man of true courage. I thank you for your blog and for everything you have done and are doing in the world and for people who are or were where I have been.

http://www.takingthemaskoff.com

pam w.

Here are the Lyrics to HUMAN BEINGS, in English followed by the Italian (just in case anyone wants to sing along –as I did!)

HUMAN BEINGS/Esseri Humani

Nowadays, people judge you

Because of your appearance

They see only masks

They don’t even know who you are

You must show yourself invincible

Collecting trophies

But when silently you cry

You find out who you really are

I believe in human beings

I believe in human beings

I believe in human beings

The courageous ones

The courage of being human

I believe in human beings

I believe in human beings

I believe in human beings

The courageous ones

The courage of being human

Take my hand and stand up

You can trust me

I am an ordinary man

One out of many just like you

But what a splendor there is in you

In your fragility

And I remind you that we are not alone

Fighting this reality

I believe in human beings

I believe in human beings

I believe in human beings

The courageous ones

The courage of being human

I believe in human beings

I believe in human beings

I believe in human beings

The courageous ones

The courage of being human

Love, love, love

Won, wins and will always win

Love, love, love

Won, wins and will always win

Love, love, love

Won, wins and will always win

Love, love, love

Won, wins and will always win

I believe in human beings

I believe in human beings

I believe in human beings

The courageous ones

The 
courage of being human

I believe in human beings

I believe in human beings

I believe in human beings

The courageous ones

The courage of being human

Human beings

Human beings

Esseri umani

Oggi la gente ti giudica,
per quale immagine hai.
Vede soltanto le maschere,
non sa nemmeno chi sei.

Devi mostrarti invincibile,
collezionare trofei.
Ma quando piangi in silenzio,
scopri davvero chi sei.

Credo negli esseri umani.
Credo negli esseri umani.
Credo negli esseri umani
che hanno coraggio,
coraggio di essere umani

Credo negli esseri umani.
Credo negli esseri umani.
credo negli esseri umani
che hanno coraggio,
coraggio di essere umani.

Prendi la mano e rialzati,
tu puoi fidarti di me.
Io sono uno qualunque,
uno dei tanti, uguale a te.

Ma che splendore che sei,
nella tua fragilità.
E ti ricordo che non siamo soli
a combattere questa realtà.

Credo negli esseri umani.
Credo negli esseri umani.
Credo negli esseri umani che hanno coraggio,
coraggio di essere umani.

Credo negli esseri umani.
Credo negli esseri umani.
Credo negli esseri umani che hanno coraggio,
coraggio di essere umani.

Essere umani.

L’amore, amore, amore
ha vinto, vince, vincerà.
L’amore, amore, amore
ha vinto, vince, vincerà.

L’amore, amore, amore
ha vinto, vince, vincerà.
L’amore, amore, amore,
ha vinto, vince, vincerà.

Credo negli esseri umani.
Credo negli esseri umani.
Credo negli esseri umani che
hanno coraggio,
coraggio di essere umani.

Credo negli esseri umani.
Credo negli esseri umani.
Cedo negli esseri umani che hanno coraggio,
coraggio di essere umani.

Essere umani.
Essere umani.

Article about Michael E Balkunas,MD !

I moved to Brattleboro Vermont on February 4, 2015, leaving my home state of Connecticut where I’ve lived for nearly 60 years. l had to move because of the horrific psychiatric abuses I experienced in Connecticut hospitals and my fear that if ever I were hospitalized again I would be killed.

I feel guilty, however, just getting out without accomplishing something to stop what continues to happen in Connecticut psychiatric units and hospitals.

The experience of mechanical four-point restraints – leather cuffs that are tightened around the wrists and ankles to immobilize a patient to a bed – or being isolated by force in an often freezing seclusion cell is almost universally terrifying. Nevertheless, both cell and/or restraints are routinely employed to curb loudness and undesirable behaviors at the Hospital of Central Connecticut on Grand Street in New Britain. I know this because I was subjected to both seclusion and restraints multiple times in the spring of 2014, despite a diagnosis of chronic paranoid schizophrenia, as well as PTSD that was triggered by precisely this sort of thing.

Bizarrely, the hospital psychiatrist, Dr Michael E Balkunas, treating me at HOCC challenged my PTSD diagnosis. “Patient misperceives her treatment as traumatic,” he wrote in my chart. Well, maybe so, but I don’t know how I can be accused of misperceiving three entire days callously abandoned alone, tied to the four posts of a metal bedstead at U-Conn’s Dempsey Hospital (for trying to escape the locked unit) as anything but brutality, even if it was in the 1990s. I also think it is nearly by definition traumatic to be forced to defecate in one’s own clothing while tied to a bed which is what they did at Hartford Hospital’s Institute of Living in the winter of 2013. This was after I was told to lie down and place my own limbs in the leather cuffs (“as a consequence but not a punishment”) for walking away from the very same “Side Room” that I had just been assured was “not a seclusion room unless you call it a seclusion room.”

Again, maybe I misperceived being grabbed and held face-down and nearly suffocated numerous times by staff at Yale Psychiatric Hospital in August 2013, who injected 10-20 milligrams of Haldol, a known drug of torture. Maybe this was just kindliness that I misunderstood as traumatic, maybe it was merely a “psychotic misperception” on my part? Maybe, and maybe not.

Nevertheless, the fact remains that in the ED of New Britain’s HOCC, a security guard in May 2014, grabbed me by my left shoulder immediately after he was warned by the nurse that it was my left shoulder that had a rotator cuff tear.

My New Britain chart records that I was admitted to that hospital, and to the IOL and others with a detailed Psychiatric Advance Directive, the first page of which states that seclusion, four-point restraints and forced medication invariably result in regression to “primitive states and severe worsening of symptoms.” It also makes several concrete suggestions how better to deal with me when I am upset. Even though I spent many hours on this document, Psychiatric Advance Directives have no legal clout in Connecticut and doctors can and do ignore them freely.

Perhaps because of this, HOCC staff literally forced me (“escorted me”) to seclusion and/or restrained me again and again. They took to stripping me “for safety’s sake,” and even though I put up no resistance, they had the male guards spread-eagle my limbs while still naked and put restraint cuffs on without even covering me.

Is it any wonder that what resulted was someone who would wash her hair in her own urine, defecate on the floor of her room and smear feces on the wall? Yet Dr Balkunas, the director of W-1, the general psychiatry unit at HOCC claimed that my trauma was imaginary. Why? Because treatment cannot be traumatic. He simply never got the connection between my horrendous decompensation and his so-called “therapy.” Maybe he never appreciated that he was torturing me, like a person who ripped the wings off butterflies as a child. Someone like that would not have understood how those creatures suffer either.

Google Review of Michael E Balkunas, Unit Chief of W-1, Adult Psychiatry, Hospital of Central Connecticut

NOTE: THIS may be Dr Michael E Balkunas’s forgotten relative, also apparently an MD or he plays one on TV, I dunno! All I know is that the men look amazingly alike!  They could be cousins like the twins on that Patty Duke show many many eons ago…What is important to remember is that they DO share a certain number of aberrant genes, and I believe that one of theirs leads to sadism…

(Note that My GOOGLE Review (edited)  follows)

How very similiar Michael and Charlie look...and and no wonder, since they share the same sadism genes!
How very similar Michael and Charlie look…and and no wonder, since they share the same sadism genes!

In May 2014, Michael E. Balkunas, MD, chief psychiatrist of the W-1 unit of the Hospital of Central Connecticut in New Britain, angered by my rejection of him because I could not speak (he refused me the use of any writing materials) decided to diagnose me with Borderline Personality Disorder despite having asked for in-put from my family and my outside psychiatrists who all stated that no such BPD or any PD symptoms ever existed. He did this despite my having been admitted with a decades-long Axis 1 diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia (and with PTSD since 2009 due to hospital brutality and abuses).

I believe he added the PD diagnosis in order to justify the implementation of an inhumane Behavioral Treatment Plan which resulted in four-point mechanical restraints and the use of a horrific  and freezing seclusion cell. As my Advance Directive stated clearly, even at the time, none of these modes of “treatment” in the past  ever led to anything but disaster.

At HOCC I was repeatedly secluded and even restrained, naked in a spread-eagle position, in 4-point leather cuffs for many hours, yet never was this because of any behavior indicating “imminent danger of causing serious bodily harm to self or others” as the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid require. They did this to me always and only because I was too loud, or because I disrupted the unit “milieu.”

Before I was double-locked into one of W-1’s soundproof isolation cells, the nurses might have the male security guards strip me naked “for safety’s sake.” No matter how compliant I was, they always injected me with three “punishment drugs.” Even when I said I would take them orally or offered my arm, they could choose to push me onto my face on a bare mattress, forcibly hold me down until I couldn’t breathe, and administered them in my buttocks.

I informed the guards about CMS rules regarding appropriate uses of seclusion. To their credit they seemed taken aback, but in the end they were always willing to follow orders and to inflict pain in order to ensure my rapid compliance.

Dr. Balkunas insisted again and again on the diagnosis of BPD yet he never treated me with any modality but antipsychotic drugs and never wrote about my exhibiting any BPD symptoms in his notes. In fact his whole stated rationale for starting commitment procedures to the Connecticut Valley State Hospital was that “antipsychotic drugs take time to work.”

The staff of Nurses and Mental Health Technicians at New Britain General Hospital W-1 and most certainly Dr. Michael Edward Balkunas, Adult Psychiatry Unit Chief, must to be re-educated about the evils of employing punishment or torture in mental health care. They should be given, in addition, many hours of intensive in-service training on trauma-informed treatment. But frankly, as a penalty for the extraordinary and sadistic abuses they long inflicted (knowingly with impunity) upon the mentally ill taken into their care, they deserve nothing less than to summarily lose their jobs and their licenses to practice — for good.

Listen Up Collage -- A message more than art.
Listen Up Collage — A message more than art.

You Can’t Really Change Your LIfe, After All, Can You?

You Spew Poison into the World
You Spew Poison into the World

 

Of course you can’t change your life. Your “giants go with you wherever you go,” as Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote many many years ago, and it is still sadly true.

 

I left Connecticut, thinking I could escape, at least the hospital torture, but I cannot escape the voices that hate me and the demons that I carry with me, the fact that I burden the world, poison it when I exist in it, and that wherever I go I leave a slime of pollution and hatred..I cannot help that. It is a genetic flaw, no matter what good I try to do, the generosity I practice, the kindnesses I have done and preached, it all goes for naught in the end, when the poison leaches from my marrow and through my skin and permeates the world. People feel it then and run away, screaming…

 

I know this and feel it. and I cannot take it any longer. I have had it. Lord knows I have tried and tried to obviate it, to deny it, to remove the stain or fix it, but it has never worked. I am done. I can’t do it any more. It is over. I cannot deal with the voices and the evil that I am and cause any longer. It is so clear to me that others want this end from me too, because although they talk a good game about help and programs to assist me, they actually refuse to make them available to me, and deliberately– DELIBERATELY —  turn a deaf ear when I overtly say, I NEED HELP NOW…How much more obvious and clear spoken can I be?

I will NOT beg for my life or my skin. No. I do not deserve that. And if not one wants me alive or intact, then there is a reason for it…and I know what it is, as I have stated. So if I get the message that “this is it” today, at my appointment again, that We HAVE NOTHING FOR YOU, that YOU ARE ON YOUR OWN, that “we do not really care what happens”. then it is OVER…I cannot care for myself, the devil, and I know what must be done…

I have done all I can, I really have. Do not try to tell me I haven’t tried for 62 years as bravely and carried on ALONE as I could possibly do it and be. But I cannot do it any longer, I am sorry, But this is it. Either PROVE to me that YOU CARE THAT I EXIST AND DO NOT WANT ME TO DO…whatever.

 

No , in fact YOU cannot do anything, any of you out there. Frankly. This is strictly between me and the folks here tasked with making sure I am safe and it is clear that I have poisoned all of them already, I have used up my quota of caring and assistance and that is that. It’s gone. It’s over. I’m gone. GET LOST. YOU BAD RUBBISH. We have had it with you. You are worthless shit.

 

Goodbye.  I don’t know what will happen to me. But I can’t do this any longer.

What to do, What to do, What to do?!

WARNING: THIS IS A VERY ANGRY POST. It contains angry swearing language and is “not nice”…If you only want to “like” me then click LIKE without reading, as usual. (You know who you are.) If you want to read what I wrote, then go ahead, but be forewarned: you won’t like what you read.

 

I am in the middle of a move to Vermont, the state of my dreams, the state where I was well for six weeks and where I was happy and in a happy state. Was I in a dream state? Am I in a dream state to think that I can make it there, move there in one piece? And make a new life?

 

Du must dein leben andernYou must change your life. That’s the last line of the most important poem I ever read in my life, “The Archaic Torso of Apollo” by Rainer Maria Rilke, which I read at least 30 years ago, and never forgot. Yet I never changed my life until now. Oh, I have tried, in my way, I have tried. I have tried many times to stop taking my so-called anti-psychotic medications and go it alone, but always informed the relevant medical personnel in my life, with disastrous results. I believe it was the informing that caused the disasters however, NOT the stopping of my meds. Belief, and expectation play a huge role in what happens to people, and when EVERYONE around you anticipates the worst and looks for it, when everyone KNOWs you will become psychotic without the drugs, somehow they make it happen. It happens all  the time, so that even if you wouldn’t become psychotic otherwise, they force it on you, or look so hard for symptoms that they see what might not be there. And then the hospital forces the drugs on you and you react with anger and traumatized combativeness and they react with more force and brutality and it just escalates and everyone tells you you MUST take the meds from now on OR ELSE.

 

But it ain’t true, because the meds are bogus as anyone who has ever been drugged up with Haldol would tell you, if they were honest. Haldol, the doctors’ favorite tranquilizer and “anti-psychotic” drug, does diddly-squat for psychosis. It only drugs you out of your gourd so you shut the fuck up about it. But it doesn’t change a thing inside, it just quiets you down so you don’t make the noise you did, and you submit. You submit and no one gives a shit about what is really going on.

 

Except that I didn’t really quiet down on Haldol, because every time Yale held me down for injections in the ass, I retaliated by stripping my clothing off and shitting on the floor of my non-seclusion seclusion room, and smearing it all over the place. That was my retaliation for their punishing me with a torture drug that did nothing for me only against me. And they knew it perfectly well. So I punished them with my SHIT!

 

Fuck them! Let the aides call me “Pig” and “Swine,” I didn’t care. No one believed me when I told them what that aide was doing. But I got back at him by calling him “rapist” every time he grabbed me to keep me in that room. “Darien, the Rapist!” I’d scream, just to call attention to his physically attacking me. “Rapist!” So he got back at me by muttering,”Pig, swine…” under his breath when no one else could hear him, just so it seemed like I was hallucinating. But I wasn’t. I knew what was what, and I knew what he was doing.

 

Haldol is a shit drug, by the way. It does NOTHING to help anyone but punish them and torture them, but the thing is, it is a model for all the other anti-psychotic drugs. Keep that in mind, because none of the other AP drugs works any better than Haldol and you are fooling yourselves if you think they do. You want to believe the drugs help you, and your belief makes the drugs work. That is all. It is the placebo effect, pure and simple. But the drugs also harm you. Why else would you be obese or tremulous or any of the other detrimental things that have happened since you started taking anti-psychotic drugs? Do you think they are harmless? Do you think that diabetes just happened to you out of the blue? No, the drugs not only offer only a placebo treatment that you could get on your own, but they cause obesity and diabetes as well. And a whole host of other problems.

 

But far be it from me to tell you what to do. I just know that I am not going to continue with this garbage. I will NOT be told by anyone hired by the drug companies and instructed by them as well that I should take these drugs for the rest of my SHORTENED life..BULLSHIT!

 

Look, you do what you want. If you want to live 25 years less  than you would have otherwise, fine. FUCK ME! I don’t give a shit what you do, but I will not lie to myself any longer. These drugs do nothing. They  have never kept me sane or cured my psychotic episodes. They do nothing for me, and they only hurt me. If you were honest with yourself you might admit the same thing.

 

WHATEVER!!!!!!

 

Fuck me. I don’t give a shit. Do whatever suits you, I’m outta here, I’m moving to Vermont and getting off this shit and having a better life than this bullshit in Connecticut. I’m moving on and moving out, and CHANGING MY LIFE. Du must dein Leben andern. You people can go on and take your pills and stay sick and play the good patient and pretend that Haldol and all the other derivative drugs “help” you. I don’t give a good goddam. I won’t live that lie any longer. The drugs are bogus and if you bothered to do your homework and read about them, you would know what I know. And If you were honest about your life you would admit that they do nothing for you too.

 

Go ahead, leave my blog, don’t read what I write any more. I don’t care. I’m sick of popularity contests and “LIKES” by people who don’t bother to read what I write. Don’t LIKE me! I don’t care. You haven’t even read this far anyway. Don’t LIKE me! I don’t give a shit. I’m moving to Vermont.  Connecticut and all of you can go blow.

 

 

(Sorry, but I am sick of BS and I had to get this off my chest. I don’t care who dis-likes me after this blog post. You either want me to speak my truth or you don’t…But I won’t lie any longer or be diplomatic either. Take it or leave it.)