Your God is a False God

Crucifictions
Crucifictions

Just going back to my regular meeting with the Stasi earlier this week… (Stasi were originally the East German Secret Police) I refer to my crack psychiatric home treatment team endearingly as the Stasi as it sums up neatly what they are really like.

I was discussing with David, the new Irish  male CPN (Community Psychiatric Nurse) a load of reasons why they were all evil for not leaving me in peace alone, away from the horrendously haunting psychiatric system. He said that I was babbling speculative philosophy – that it was all mental illness. I then asked him to expand why it was philosophy. I said that I was speaking the truth and reality but it was philosophy to him as he’d been brainwashed and divorced from humanity through his psychiatric education and training. I was asked repeatedly to show more ‘Courtesy’. I said that there were no laws saying I had to be courteous, especially to people I do not choose to be in my life. He said that he would get the psychiatrist to implement that I had to be courteous as part of the legal conditions for my C.T.O. (Community Treatment Order). I said that this wasn’t legal and that the psychiatrist had no legal powers to do such a thing. He then spoke about the fact the psychiatrist (Dr. Ballantyne-Watts [Wales Forensic Psychiatry]) actually did have these powers. He expanded by saying that psychiatrists are very powerful (of that I am positively certain) and that some people believe that they are modern day Gods. I thought it was just a witty retort from him at first and giggled a little but the CPNs face remained stern and unchanged. I realised he was serious. I said that I would never be worshipping a human as a God and certainly not a psychiatrist and certainly not Dr. Ballantyne-Watts. He looked puzzled and didn’t seem to comprehend. I guess when you are so conditionned to working in the system, to blindly follow any order from above, that seeing the boss as a living embodiment of God is not strange. He then implied that psychiatrists had superhuman intelligence and were divine. I didn’t really wish to blaspheme against the poor fella’s beliefs. At the end of the day, I believe in freedom of choice, in particular the right to choose one’s religion (as enshrined in the Universal Declaration on Human Rights). I had to just leave the topic and accept that our views differed.

I have noticed, however, over the years, how positively psychiatrists and the mental health system rejects religion. They sneer at it. When I first entered hospital in 1997 I noticed a lot of patients reading the bible and talking about stories from the Bible. this seemed a little strange to me. It was the modern world and our society is quite secular. I hadn’t been brought up particularly religiously, yet had attended school chapel and assemblies every day and had a faint understanding of the Bible. I believed in God, but not rigorously. I was 19 – often people find religion or ‘God’ later in life than at this freshfaced tender age. It seemed bizarre but what seemed more alarming and strange was the way in which the Mental Health nurses enforcedly rejected religion. Bibles were confiscated from patients. Anyone mentionning a religous topic openly was condemned immediately, either sent off for punishment in the secure ward, medicated more (eg. injection), or just harshly verbally reprimanded and mocked. Perhaps there was something to this religion malarky?

Over the years, as I spent more and more time on lockdown I decided to put the time to as good a use as possible by studying and reading. I wanted a career as a musician but music is so oppressed inside a mental hospital it isn’t funny. Radios are confiscated and banned . When i first entered the Mental Health System, patients used to gather in the smoking room around the radio all day. On a Saturday Night there was quite a party atmosphere. I can remember grooving around to the Radio 1 Essential Selection or Lovegroove Dance Party. If you closed your eyes you could imagine yourself in the Ministry of Sound, or wherever you so desired or should have been spending the weekend.

In about 2000 when I was sectionned for a total of ten and a half months, my first experience of total institutionalisation. I managed to smuggle my old school King James Bible in. I secretly read it at night and went straight through, cover to cover. It was a really good read and I’d recommend for anyone to do the same regardless of your religious beliefs. It was also during this period of incarceration that I began going to church. It wasn’t really to fulfill a higher purpose; I just noticed that, by attending church on Sunday in Caerleon’s local church, it gave a good excuse to actually get out of the nuthouse for a while. You could claim that you wished to exercise your right to worship the state religion, and although it took weeks of playing this card before they finally acquiesced, it came to the point where they knew that they might get into trouble for continuing to prevent you from exercising this right. Initially the excuse for not allowing it was that there was a hospital chapel which arranged a Sunday service but it just so happened that at that time nobody could be bothered to actually allow this service to proceed, so in the end they had to let a few others with the same idea, and me, pop into the town for an hour or two.  One thing I’ll say about the Caerleon congregation is that they are all very welcoming and the church at that time was generally well-attended. When I saw Arthur, the vicar, stood in his pulpit, remembering those less fortunate in the community, those stuck inside the Mental Hospital, it genuinely touched my heart.  I came to know Arthur personally as he made regular trips into the hospital and for patients with few visitors he was absolutely critical to their wellbeing. An outsider might imagine that you have all the care you need inside a nuthouse, with all the healthcare professional being paid to look after you in there. The reality of that situation is quite different. Arthur would sit and chat to everyone, whether they wished to talk about God or anything else they were bothered about. You get treated like cattle awaiting slaughter inside a nuthouse. Another myth of treatment is that you will spend hours talking over all your mental health issues with the psychiatrist. This is the biggest lie of the lot. You see the shrink once a week, usually a Monday morning – It’s the only time they actually are in the hospital physically. And you see them for ten minutes, no more. Never is anything substantial discussed, bar medication. The treatment system is totally dependent on drugs. The rest of the time the shrinks are analysing drugs company marketing material, to see which company is offering the best incentives. Usually cash incentives. I have picked this knowledge up from reading psychiatry books  – and just noticing all the drug company bumph lying around in offices – you can see what’s coming next in your treatment regime when the staff start drinking from fresh drug company branded coffee mugs, as it means the drug rep has been and left a few parting gifts after striking a big deal.. There is such a fierce war between drugs companies for the increasingly lucrative market share that the advertising campaigns are like US Presidential races in terms of budget and ferocity of advertising.

Arthur was about the only person to turn to for salvation and, to be fair, is a good man, as he serves his community in the correct manner. When I was in the Beechwood PICU in St. Cadoc’s secure Unit where you have literally nothing, no possessions – nothing, for about 4 months straight, Arthur noticed I’d disappeared and sought me out, bringing a Bible which was like a Godsend, literally. Of course it soon gets confiscated once he’s out the door, but the thought is well intended. I also had my first and only communion inside the locked ward. The staff even told my visitors who turned up that I wasn’t there – I’d been transferred somewhere else and they didn’t know how to find me. They do get perverse kicks when enhancing your suffering. Arthur still managed to get through those barriers and I will forever be grateful.

As a side note, one day on Augustus Ward, an acute Unit in St. Cadoc’s, this posh-looking, well-spoken holy man came in. I sat and had a good quarter an hour chat. He was the Bishop of the See of Monmouthshire, a certain Rowan Williams, who of course is the current Archbishop of Canterbury. It’s funny watching him in Westminster Abbey on the tele with the Queen when you know you’ve had a tepid St. Cad’s coffee with him – of course nowadays they’d probably class this as a delusion but it is true. Ask Rowan Williams if you bump into him if he’s ever been to St. Cadoc’s with Wez G and he’ll tell you the truth… The Priory may get all the spotlight as the place to be but we’ve had a few stars down our way too…

I sound a bit like a preacher here but although I believe in God, after reading the Bible, I read a load of other major religious texts and philosophy and much more. I don’t believe that any one world religion has their definition of God correct – I think that a fusion of beliefs is possible and that religion has been alarmingly misused over the years. My facebook-declared religious views are ‘Ayahuasca Shaman’ but that’s a story for another day.One thing I can say is that most religions carry the same fundamental message. It’s easy to hear people say ‘religion = load of nonsense – cause of all wars -and totally dismiss it, but we must remember that most of modern society has developed as a result of these belief systems. Our ancestors chose to (and indeed chose not to and were sometimes forced to) live their lives by the laws laid down in these books. Even a sceptic has to recognise that there is a great deal of knowledge of good and evil contained in holy texts or beliefs or traditions. It is part of history and culture. The point I aspire to is that it would not harm these Mental Health workers to actually accept some of the ideas and wisdom of these religions. There is a tendency nowadays to reject the old in favour of the new and we have come to accept that change is always for the better. This isn’t strictly true, as too much change will upset the overall balance of any system. Being radical for the sake of being radical leaves you clutching at straws as if you abolish everything as you have no canvas left on which to paint a new picture. The religious beliefs have been around in most cases for thousands of years. Psychiatry is a much more recent cult or fad, which has never properly defined itself. It is a lost pseudoscience (or other categeory) with really wishy-washy vague ideas and definitions.

When I hear daftness coming from people appointed by the UK government to march into my home, threaten me with the law and try and get me to worship another human being, who quite frankly cannot possibly be God…It irritates me to the core and I cannot understand what accepting to do this will achieve. Perhaps why they say I’m mad. If I do bow down before the Doctor, will they finally leave me alone?  It’s gone too far for them to withdraw by now and once I’m bowing, I’ll soon be forced to kneel and pretty soon I’ll be prostrating myself and self-whipping my back to punish myself for not being chaste enough in God’s sight. The guy’s only in his Mid-Fifties and even despite the argument between Creationists and Evolutionists, even they would, I hope,  unanimously agree  that whoever created the world  must have done so more than 60 years ago. If there’s evidence to suggest otherwise then I stand corrected.

As I counter-psychoanalyse my interrogators, I observe that they are always so cagey at giving information up, it is hard to pinpoint their actual goals and agenda.  God-king cults have sprung up in history – Are the psychiatrists a priesthood? It worries me as people will think that this is all bonkers, I’m lying, nuts whatever, but if you are all worshipping psychiatrists in a decade or so you can look back and say you heard it here first. Silly things do emerge in society from time to time and unless you see them coming it is often difficult ever understanding how they arrived. Take X-Factor or Pop Idol for example? How on earth did they crop up? I, for one, didn’t foresee the music industry being so affected by these TV talent shows.  I will always totally reject the worship of psychiatrists, until the torture gets too intense perhaps, but even then I think that I shall resist. Perhaps when my brain finally is in the pickle jar on their desk I might be tempted to pay homage, but even then I’ll still be pulling faces. Psychiatry as a religion disgusts me. Yes – you may think – oh – this cannot possibly be true or ever eventualise but I don’t think that the public in general understand just exactly how powerful the Mental Health movement is. It has all the traits of religion – vast amounts of money, people in powerful positions across society all profit from it, they have the unquestionable loyalty of the weaponised authorities (ie. Police) who are prepared to use force to protect the regime, they have the desire for more  control over those they see as weaker and will cease at no issue of morality in order to achieve their ends. When you couple in the sheepish nature of the masses to follow whither they are ordered without questionning the command, the scene is set.  I don’t know just how far the Mental Health Act powers will take what is being done in the name of the law. I don’t wish to discover either. Like a cornered animal you have to stand and fight and it would be nice to maintain civilized protocol that dates back before the time of Marx and has been the preserve of peaceful people across eternity. Examine history – look at how such horrific movements spring up from time to time. Psychiatry is weaving its clutches virtually everywhere in a world that has been globalised more than ever before. The entire future of our species is at stake.

Psychiatrists. mental health workers, police, social workers, all involved, your God is a false God. I will not worship my psychiatrist.

 

[MORE on Dr Darryl Watts aka Dr Ballantyne-Watts – the psychiatrist I am supposed to be worshipping religiously!!! after I discovered his criminal history as a child sex offender in Dec 2014 … http://endofterror.org/?cat=191 ]

Dark Times

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4NUArZubRQ]

Trafik are a cutting edge electronica act. Dark Times is the opener for their ‘None But The Brave’ Album. The lyrics sum up End Of Terror’s philosophy. We live in dark times, the Dark Ages of Healthcare. It is as though the Spanish Inquisition as been reborn. Surely as a species we have evolved far enough in the modern age to be able to recognise and respect the most fundamental of human rights? Let’s hope and pray for a Renaissance to appear on our horizon. For that to be achieved we need to bring about the ‘End Of Terror’.

More from Trafik here http://www.last.fm/music/Trafik

Fighting for Truth and Justice and the End of Tyranny and Evil in Mental Health and Psychiatry

Mental Health Review Tribunal – Phone In Sick

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6VtDSIBWkOQ]

Sicknote are my mates – please support their great music!

I’ve been up all night debating about whether or not to go to the Mental Health Review Tribunal Scheduled for tomorrow at 11am at Talygarn Ward, Griffithstown Hospital, Pontypool. I have an appeal against the Community Treatment Order (CTO) that I was placed on following my discharge from Section 3 of the Mental Health Act when I was detained a few months ago. When you are placed on a section order – whether it be for hospital detainment or one of these horrible new-fangled freedom-crushing CTOs – you get the right of appeal. Well – by law and the Mental Health Act itself you should get the right of appeal. I have been through entire sections without any appeal at all. What they claim at the Tribunal Office is that they are too busy, too snowed under to process the appeal. If you are lucky enough to have one scheduled, usually it comes very late on into the section. For a six month detention under section 3 you can expect to be waiting at least 4 months for your appeal hearing. After which time you are pretty much adjusted to the inner workings of the looney bin. Not that you should ever hold out any hope whatsoever of ever winning. The Mental Health Review Tribunal (MHRT) service is there to make Mental Health look legal and just. It is a facade for public and media consumption. Yes – they’ll give you a sheet of paper when you are locked up as a patient, explaining your rights. If they say they do this it makes it a lot easier for all the politicians in Westminster or Cardiff, to vote in favour of more punitive conditions and laws for detainees as they (in the adept lying manner only politicans can really truly understand) can justify to themselves that they are acting justly and they can sleep at night. It’s all self-reassurance. Before you ever get a chance to read the slip of paper, they rip it back from you and get straight to the more pertinent and relevant to their work needle-jabbing process to drug and torture you. After several months of drowning in pools of your own drool and taking a break in your chainsmoking to slurp drool, while adopting a military like program of getting out of bed and getting back in at regimented times, you tell yourself repeatedly – “Oh – it will all be OK when I get to the Tribunal. They will see how unjustly I’ve been treated and release the shackles of my bonds and I will be able to return home to my loved ones, my possessions, my job, my life’ It is only human to think this way – Look beyond the mental health literature at the thoughts of hostages across the world. Terry Waite, John McCarthy, Ingrid Betancourt. They all can speak of how twisted your mind becomes under torturous kidnap conditions. It’s a journey of your self which is a tough, rocky road. Survival instinct kicks in and only when you are released back into the ‘real world’ do you start to heal the scars of your time of suffering.

The disappointment when you finally open the Victorian Doors to the Courtroom kicks in when you see the same old faces. The panel of three who have been appointed with the power of either freeing you from the daft silly bit of paper which they all go around decrying as ‘The Law’ or whether they should rubber stamp all that the Psychiatrist and Mental Health team have done and intend to do in the future. The retired psychiatrist who is always part of the team of three will never decide in your favour. it simply goes against the grain of all they believe in. They stick together like glue. If blood is thicker than water, a psychiatrist has treacle in his veins. The Medical Member of the ‘Independent# board will be your worst nightmare.; He will drive any shadow of debate about the situation far away as he drives the whole procedure. If the lay member or legal chairperson even show the slightest seeds of doubt, the veteran shrink will redirect their opinions, not as a judge may direct a jury, but in the most manipulative cunning manner that only a true torturer can comprehend. They set their whole system around the ideology of conditionning and as much as I despise the methodology of it, eventually, with enough sweat tears and blood it will achieve the end results. Of course conditionning is far from humane but thoughts of humanity and fundamental human rights are far far away. I’ve had maybe 30 tribunal hearings in 14.5 years. I’ve had some really clear cut cases where I have been able to prove beyond all shadow of doubt the lies and myths in the tribunal reports, with hard evidence. Yet, I have never won a tribunal, not once, not even have I come close. Ok – sounds a bit ‘poor me’ – but the paperwork is done that tightly so that all sing from the same hymn sheet, it doesn’t matter what you say or do you ain’t getting off the treatment order. Why do I bother going at all? Why do I consider going? Well – they are useful exercises as you do get to keep the specially drafted reports from your care team about your treatment. The Doctors, Nurses, Social Workers, and all else involved from the police to the public… They all have input. Usually it is the first and only time you will get to hear and understand what you are accused of. You listen to the court proceeedings and wonder who the devil they are wittering on about. It must be Satan himself, the evilness of this person’s deeds. And then you realise that it is you. They create such fiction that by the time come for you to have your say you even start believing that you are Fred West or Ian Brady, such is the power of the whole conditionning process. But – at the end of the tribunal, you get to keep the reports. You can take time to mull over them at a more convenient safe environment. You can file them away for use in future cases in real court situations like, for example, the Eruopean Court of Human Rights in Strasbourg. Kangaroo Courts will never achieve justice. The way they are set up prevents them from achieving it. They achieve their goals and they serve their purpose in this. The Care Plan gets a rubber stamp, the profiteering continues and everyone can go home satisfied that they have prevented a disaster. they are all heroes and have prevented the public from being butchered by the crazy maniacs from the mental hospital. They put on their slippers, sip their cocoa and sleep like babies. You, on the other hand, have to endure the torment of this rubber stamping and decision. It reinvigours the whole team who are treating you. They have spent so much time contructing the myth that you have rights and can achieve justice at the tribunal that they have even started to doubt themselves whether they will win. Now that they have won – they like to bask in the glory of a good victory. They put work into their reports and by heck are you going to feel the pain you have caused by resisting them in a ‘court’ situation. Why can’t you be a good boy and just accept your illness and treatment? It all works 100% – They know this as they were taught it in Universities. The nice guy from the drugs company explained how the medication is perfect and works so well for patients. It’s your damned mental illness that prevents you from seeing this and we will free you from this horrific burden. Once you get over the worst hurdle and symptom, that of DENIAL, we can at least start curing you. Not that a cure exists of course – as it says that in the textbooks also. But at the very least we can experiment until we achieve a cure and once that has been achieved then the world will be a safer and healthier place as it will be free from mental illness.

Back in the real world, you have to deal with the fallout but at least you get to keep the documentation. Next time you have an appeal you can compare notes. It’s always vastly different. Your ‘disease’ has morphed completely. A new set of symptoms, a new set of delusions, a new regime of medication and a new set of treatment conditions. When it has happened on repeat like this for years on end it just gets a bit tedious and boring. I have a tendency to get carried away in these mock court situations and kind of unleash hell – when you are surrounded by enemies in one of these hostile situations it is tricky keeping a cool head, whatever your temperament. I leave the hearing after all is done while the panel decide on a verdict and you always think to yourself ‘Oh maybe, maybe this time will be the one, maybe they will see the light and my whole nightmare will be over’ Waiting for a verdict does this to one’s mind. Whether you are innocent or guilty the waiting on a verdict is a weird situation. I’ve come to the point whereby I take the whole tribunal system as a complete joke. If you don’t recognise their authority in the first place, it doesn’t matter what they say or find or do, it won’t affect you. A bunch of tarty posh out-of-touch-with-reality former professional dogsbody dogooders can think what they want about how risky I am, it will not change my outlook or attitude or what I say or do. They harm themselves ultimately as they create a bubble for themselves, a mental cocoon which envelopes them from the real world. If you believe every Tom, Dick and Harry who is set in front of you is a murderous psychopath who is that dangerous your soul will not rest until you have treated him psychiatrically. That you are the hero of the tale. The protector of the good, the saviour of the values of society… You are building sandcastles. As much as I like to watch their pretty constructions, should someone who actually is dangerous ever come along, they won’t have the ability to recognise it. They think that harmless ordinary folk are inherently evil. They will not recognise the genuine article. He’ll be nestled inside their cocoon, devouring them and they won’t even notice. When the tide washes in I aim to be far from the swash and safely tucked away in my home on dry, hilly ground.

The tribunal was scheduled for last month when I was still an inpatient. Well – on the day of my discharge in fact. It had been a section 3 detained patient appeal. So, as psychiatrists are prone to do – it has happened to me on multiple previous occasions – if there is any doubt at all that they could lose the tribunal, thereby freeing you as a patient, from their lengthy clutches. They will do a bit of swap and shift with the legal paperwork to ensure that the victory is achieved. An unretained patient who is back in society is not a reality for them. It is totally unaccaptable. A psychiatrist would sell his own grandmother ahead of letting go a client. Without experimental material the science is dead. If a whole develops in the net and a single fish manages to get out then pretty soon the whole trawl will be void and your dinner plate will be empty. I was taken off the Section 3 that morning, discharged from hospital, put ona CTO immediately and then told that the tribunal would be addressing an appeal against this new document, still wet with ink. Yet, as the reports hadn’t been updated to reflect these new conditions at the tribunal, after all the extended waiting – formality, rigmarole and all the hoo-ha etc. The legal member just declared an immediate adjournment for updated reports. they would all go away and work and get paid preparing new ones so that justice could be achieved.

As much as I hate to see a man starve from his fish & chip supper, I have a few bigger fish to fry myself. The hospital is way up in the Welsh valleys, a good 2 hour journey from me. My university course began yesterday and I’ve had a busy week workwise, taking on several new clients. End of Terror has been launched and I’m loving the response thus far in terms of traffic and comments from my friends and supporters. I could trek about telling small pockets of strangers my woes in person, or I could tell 7 billion people on the internet the same story, For the End Of Terror to be realised I know which camp my heart lies in. Sod the tribunal, sod the verdict I shall Phone In Sick. Meanwhile I shall blog my merry heart out and see if I can help in bringing about fundamental change, not just for myself as an individual, but for the people today across the planet and more importantly, leave a blueprint for the children of tomorrow so that they understand what mistakes their ancestors have made. Real change is built one brick at a time. The sea will wash in and out every day and those sandcastles are never left standing. The End Of Terror is sat there, perched, on high ground, where the echo of the waves are nowt but a distant whisper.