Tag Archive: Illegality


Old ‘Wives Tales

I spoke today to someone who turned out to have been a midwife before her present business.  I told her what had been happening to me in hospital, the forced treatments with PRN medication and the restraints, and I find this hard to believe since the practice is so widespread, but she told me that what happened to me is illegal, but that it happens all the time.  I don’t know if it is equally true for people on a Section 3 or not.  I know where this lady is, she will be there for the long term.

While we were talking I said to her that I had thought earlier, but had forgotten to put it in my post, that the question ‘can I help this person without putting them on drugs’ does not seem to be one of the questions on a psychiatrist’s check list.  I told her I was homeless and she asked me if I was in a hostel, I told her no, I had had problems at home but they had said the problems were just in my mind and had put me in hospital, and she seemed outraged.  I told her I thought I went too quickly and cynically to the political view of things, but she said she thought it was right, and when I said that they always said there is so much call for beds that they don’t keep people in unless they are really ill, she was skeptical about that as well.  In fact thinking about it, of course she should be.  I heard someone say that the psychiatrists are the front men for the drugs companies.  Of course this is right.  Jesus, help us.

She also said that the fact they have acronyms for things doesn’t make them legal.  But if all this really is illegal, how come they are getting away with it?  I can’t understand this.  She was adamant that it is political and not a health thing, and I said that I believed that as well, but that it was different hearing it from a professional.  Of course, though, many people in other branches of medicine have no time for psychiatry, but she said the practices are actually illegal, and this is a different professional perspective for me.  I hope she is right, because then there might be some hope of dealing with this.

While I am here I might as well say that no formal support or counselling is in place to help me deal with what happened yesterday with Kerry and the kicking.  They’ve basically said talk to us if you want to, but they know how I and some others feel about talking to them about anything and it seems to me there should be something solid and more formal with appointments in place.  I have had no support offered with this at all except informally, apart from the fact that a young student took the details of what had happened and said it was to my credit that I had handled it calmly and had come back to the staff.  But it was completely by chance that the woman who agreed to be a witness for me had been passing at all.  I don’t know what I would have done otherwise or how it would have been handled.  One of the other patients told me when I got back on the ward last night to be careful because she thought she was going to try and provoke me again.  No one has followed me up and asked how I am after it.  I think I am more alone in this than I should be.  I would have thought that in a situation like this other disciplines should have been involved as a matter of course.

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I’ve been back 4 months and dependent on outside sources for most of my needs, including food and drink, all that time.

So the time has come, sitting in Starbucks between Charing Cross and Embankment, the one half way between, not the one at the end right near Embankment station, to ask if this outbreak every time I go in happens only to me, or if other people get it as well.

As soon as I came in (and this often happens with Starbucks, any branch) they jumped on me immediately I walked through the door and when I asked for a minute they replicated my gesture (raised index finger).  Then they immediately went into a whole load of stuff about ‘baby’, in a singsong voice which felt like a confrontation, but it also has the air now of being caught out a bit in what they are doing.  That, when it is time to hand over the money, is when I start to resent the whole transaction, and I told them so.  Today is the first time I have been in here.  They were also talking about bags and reacting awkwardly and to me that says that, whether they meant that for me or not, they recognised the thing in itself when they do it in other ways.

I got quite cross with them, saying it was subliminal interrogation and harassment and they tried to make out they didn’t know what I was talking about.  So I said to leave it, if they didn’t even want to acknowledge they understood anything.  But I also said I knew they did understand because they were salesmen and I had done selling myself.

Every time they have banged a surface I have seen by their reactions that, even if that time was not deliberate, they were completely aware that they do do it deliberately.  They were loudly saying words like ‘crushed’, loading it all with significance.  I’ve wondered for ages if it is some sort of club selection/initiation/rejection procedure, that this place which I thought was just an open, walk in good coffee place actually operates a selection process, very aggressively and violently, if my experience is anything to go by.

The thing is, they are always going on about babies every time I walk in.  ‘Baby’ this, ‘baby’ that, ‘baby’ for ‘maybe’, and there are plenty of people who would find that difficult for all sorts of reasons – infertility, still birth, abortion, miscarriage, cot death, for instance.  Both men and women.  I am not the only person who does not need this, and it is, by its very nature, visceral and inappropriate to be used in a selling context.

I don’t normally get the answers I seek, on my blog.  But for what it is worth, this is my experience, and I wonder if this is something they do to everyone.  Along with that is other stuff.  God stuff, vegan stuff, camp vamp (as I’ve heard it referred to).  They are doing a heavy emotional display right now.  At least some of it is theatre.  Every time they say ‘yes’ my reaction is one that I would have if lied to or assaulted in some way.  They are playing right into my face now.  it is really insulting and hurtful and they can see I am hurt by my reactions, and the man just hid his face behind the counter.  They are team laughing and mocking and intervening, aural interjections in response, I assume, to my body language.  Their own body language is quite aggressive and contemptuous, strutting up and down in front of me, and one of them just (15.35 edit) said something about ‘stupid’ and is hanging around looking miserable, as if I am supposed to care how he feels.  The same one that . . .

. . . (One of them) just came over and ‘asked’ me if he could ‘ask’ me to calm down.

It is viscerally savage and dishonest.

Posted 15.23pm Saturday 7th January 2012, UK time.

Punch Drunk

I’m hurt, I’m punch drunk.  Every day, people shouting, banging, barking and vomiting noise.  I always feel bad about leaving a bad situation, because my church leaders have historically said that if you can’t be a Christian where you are, you can’t be a Christian anywhere.  I’m not sure how that works when you feel as if you are being torn apart and having your throat savaged by packs of human dogs.  What does it mean then, to be a Christian where you are in that situation?  People have said to me before, in different situations, that I don’t have to stay, but in light of the previous statement that has felt like a taunt, or at least a contradiction.

I’m in a hotel.  There are men shouting like savages on a football pitch, angrily, defiantly, power-grabbingly.  This is Plovdiv.  As far as I am concerned, these people are angry and still murderous.  I feel sick.  I really can’t cope any more.  It’s satanic, it’s disgusting, and for all the support I have in my community, both here and in London, I might as well be homeless.  I’m not, but I might as well be, because the police don’t care.  I feel really sick.  These people, men and women, puncture the air with shouts and banging, even at illegal times, and if you challenge them they are all smooth, sometimes, as if they are happy to accommodate my requirement that they revert to acting legally, or as if they are not wrong in the first place.  I feel sick with fear and desperation, and as for the church . . . visit www.christiancentre.org and listen to the Sunday morning, Easter morning sermon, Laurence James-Davis, listen to him shouting, catch the moment of guilty registering in his voice a little later on apparently, to me, knowing he is all noise and no substance, that his shouting is not appropriate, but still he continues.  That is what these people are like here.  Is this the kind of Christianity they have swallowed and are acting out against me?  Dominionism.  Make some noise.  I read in a Christian book, David Wilkerson, I think, that empty cans make the most noise.  These people’s noise, and the way it savages my consciousness, deliberately, sometimes, I am absolutely sure, is literally sickening.

I bought some new clothes last week.  A pack of dogs – sorry, men – passed me and called me a slut.

I went to the police with the violent harassment thing with my neighbours, and they said something about immoral woman and prostitute and told me to leave the station, suggesting by their attitude that they might treat me roughly if I didn’t comply.  Every time I think and get quiet to express myself, these men shout into the air.  This is the most externalised spiritual battle I have ever been part of.  They bark into the air, going straight for my throat, and seem to think it is reasonable.  If you challenge them they laugh or treat you like an idiot.

I can’t cope.  I feel emotionally and mentally raped.  I really can’t cope.  I have no safe place to go.  Even the church is full of defiant and evasive liars shouting from the platforms.  Colin Dye talked about Judas on Sunday (or was it the Chinese guy at 2.30?) and talked about his betrayal and suicide, as if the two belonged together.  That is old pentecostal teaching, and I have swallowed it.  I believe it is right and reasonable, and that to see suicide in any other light is dishonest.  I think if you dissect it finely enough and examine it under a strong enough microscope you can’t honestly come to any other conclusion.

So is there no level of pain or abandonment or isolation that can justify feelings of wanting to die?  Are all such feelings evidence that, somehow, at some level, you are or have been treacherous in some way?  Even if you have been, if you have sadistic, dishonest rub your nose in it people dealing with you, how are you supposed to feel?  They give you no way back to life.  They themselves are wrong, but they insist you take your place in life again on their terms.

These men and their shouting is making me feel violent and desperate.  They are real madhouse material.  I think they are stupid and dangerous and should be taken off the streets.  I think it shows that I feel somehow responsible for them, that I feel this way.  But they are gross and I’m a woman.  The way their behaviour collides with my mind and feelings is completely terrifying me, in my situation as it is.  They are grossly defiant.  Every utterance of theirs is an insistence that it is OK.  There is nothing in their minds that is recognisable to me as being in any way decent.

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