Author’s note: To protect my family member’s identity, I refer to the person described in this article as “they/ them.”
The significant inconsistencies within diagnostic systems used in clinical psychiatry and psychology are troubling for those given a diagnosis of bipolar disorder or schizophrenia. “Schizoaffective disorder,” “bipolar disorder,” and “autism” have come under intense scrutiny by the public and health care systems alike as these diagnostic categories continuously change. In turn, mental healthcare service users’ lack of understanding of clinical terminology and how clinicians arrive at their conclusions continues to strain relationships and drive a sense of helplessness.
My Loved One’s Story
I know this first-hand, as I am a family member of someone that has apparently been living with all three “disorders” (autism, bipolar, and schizoaffective). However, when they were first diagnosed nearly 30 years ago, they were said to have only bipolar disorder. Yet for those past three decades, they have gone through a variety of psychiatric interventions and treatment programmes but still have no more insight into their psychological distress than when they first became unwell. Having a diagnostic label given to them by someone in a position of authority seems to have provided them with a reason for their experiences. Yet it does not explain how to deal with these experiences, nor does it help them to unpack the complex and traumatic history underpinning their suffering.
My family member’s first sign of psychological distress, which led to their being referred to mental health professionals, was greeted with a wall of assessments, providing them with no more than a pathologizing label. There was no recognition of their traumas or the impact of trauma on their psychological well-being. For example, despite having experienced a traumatic head injury, by the age of 21, they had already received a series of ECT treatments but not a single MRI or CT scan.
Yet so badly had the system failed to address their trauma and the resulting social marginalisation that they claimed to have “felt better” after the ECT. I speculate that the reason they felt better was largely because the procedure had wiped out a significant proportion of their working memory. Later, this led me to wonder whether they actually had autism or whether the ECT had caused changes to their longer-term memory (in other words, brain damage). The only thing that the ECT couldn’t take away, it seemed, was the impact that the traumas had on their mood.
To me, they appear as if permanently living on a roller coaster, unable to disembark or to find a language to share what this chaos feels like. And so, their emotional inner world manifests as stormy moods and distracted thought patterns. It’s as if the constant turbulence of having to live on the roller coaster leads to an inability to be able to anticipate what another person thinks or feels. Communication therefore becomes difficult, if not impossible, leaving them in a perpetual cycle of interpersonal and social isolation which further impedes their mental health.
The Problem with Labels
Now, years and potentially barrels of antipsychotic drugs later, they continue to struggle with their mental health and were recently told that in addition to bipolar, they “have” schizoaffective disorder and autism. I can’t imagine how confusing this must be to my family member.
In addition to being confusing and alienating, all three diagnostic labels have questionable validity. For example, according to the literature, “schizoaffective disorder” is one of the most misdiagnosed disorders due to the variation in individual experiences and lack of epidemiological research within this population. As a result, the criteria for schizoaffective disorder have changed several times since they were first published in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) in 1952. At the same time, the DSM still uses the eugenicist-influenced paradigm of 19th-century psychiatrists Emil Kraepelin and Eugen Bleuler, who developed the term “schizophrenia” to describe a deteriorating psychological status. This included disorganised speech, delusions, dementia, and nonconformity to the social etiquette of the time.
The instability of these categories seems to be influenced by three factors. The first is a lack of common symptoms of “schizophrenia” across a cross-section of today’s population. This problem stems from the “Kraepelinian dichotomy,” the late 19th-century separation of psychosis into two distinct mental disorders: schizophrenia and manic-depressive illness ( bipolar disorder). The second factor is the way definitions of so-called mental disorders change over time as populations become more diverse and socio-economic and political climates change. Although how these diagnostic categories apply across non-Western cultures and ethnicities has yet to be considered.
Finally, there seems to be a significant grey area in which the symptoms listed in the DSM under these diagnostic categories overlap. This overlap is leading to a margin of error in which people’s experiences of psychological distress are open to the subjective interpretation or confirmation bias of the diagnosing clinician. As a result, the term “schizoaffective disorder” has come to exist — an example of a flawed, biologically driven theoretical framework used to classify mood disorders and psychosis as distinct illnesses. Similarly, the concept of autism has shifted and broadened to the point where two individuals displaying radically different types and degrees of disability or unusual behaviour may be placed on the same “spectrum.”
Furthermore, as if the merry-go-round of diagnostic variation and questionable validity weren’t enough, we also have to tackle the striking lack of consideration for the history of the individual patient— in our case, someone who experienced severe physical and psychological trauma and a head injury at a young age.
Shifting My Perspective
I sometimes wonder whether I have made things worse for my family member by suggesting that they connect with various networks designed for people who share the pathology with which they have been labelled. Now, however, they have three labels, two of them new. In my ignorance, I suggested joining a network for autistic people and a bipolar support group. I soon became conscious of how, in my efforts to console and support them, I ended up making my family member feel even more “abnormal” and alienated than before. As if life isn’t hard enough living on a roller coaster! I realized that I can’t take away their psychological pain; neither can I help them to process a recent event that culminated in a manic, anxious episode. Instead, I tried to divert their emotions and re-channel them to finding a “support group.”
I wonder how, after hours of searching for autism and schizophrenia support groups, they must have felt about being told that they are inherently, trilaterally, mentally ill, and to be sent home with no support and no hope of ever integrating with “normal people.” In attempting to defer their next episode of mania prompted by the worry that they will never make new friends due to their “conditions,” I wonder if my efforts are no better than another cold, clinical, life-ruining consultation. Clinical consultations that culminated in more drugs for a supposedly long-term and inherently untreatable disorder whose definition changes each time psychiatry comes out with a new edition of the DSM. The very idea of prescribing a “support group” seems just as impersonal as these drugs that, after nearly 30 years, have not resolved my family member’s mood swings. It seems there are few other options. My disturbing realisation is that no other support exists for this person.
So, I try to coax them into accepting what I believe to be a rational solution and having what I believe to be insight, as if insight is a light somewhere inside of their head that can be switched on. But just imagine an Olympic gold medallist sprinter running 100 meters on speed and you may be getting close to how fast this person’s thoughts race through their head, and not by choice. I slowly realize that resolving psychological distress is not as simple as pressing buttons (or neurotransmitters) on or off, or even about insight. It’s about my family member feeling able to occupy the space within and outside of their own body whilst navigating the boundaries laid out by social and cultural rules created by other people.
I wonder if I have inadvertently turned them into a walking pathology by suggesting they join the autistic spectrum group and bipolar network instead of just throwing their labels out the window and accepting that my family member is having a period of psychological distress? It seems to be a circular question: On the one hand, this person needs support, but on the other, they are strapped to a rollercoaster travelling upside down at G-force 7. Meanwhile, I am stationary on the ground watching them on the rollercoaster and there’s not much I can do but accept them as they are.
I decide to accept that suffering is the price they have paid for multiple traumas addressed not with therapy but with a series of ECT sessions and nearly three decades of drug treatments that they didn’t ask for and that quite frankly have not cured anything. I try to reassure myself that I may not be able to join them on the roller coaster, but I can try and slow it down and perhaps one day even help them to disembark.
I now realise that perhaps there are diverse ways of being in the world and my role in this relationship is not to help them get off the roller coaster and be emotionally stable or even to see the world as I think it should be seen. My role as a family member is to help them to regulate the speed at which they travel through the world. I decide that I must acclimatise myself to what I now see as an alternative version of reality by adjusting my pathologizing lens and accepting that there are different varieties of normal. Perhaps, in this way, I may alleviate the stigma of “mental illness” I sometimes project onto my loved one and the accompanying stress this brings them.
Instead of seeing their behaviours as irrational and impulsive and trying to remodel them, I could remodel my own perceptions to think about how it must feel to engage with the environment when travelling upside down at G-force 7 through every interaction. When I begin to do this, what I initially perceive as their incomprehensible and unstable emotions soon translate into ways of coping with turbulence and chaos. Each person that I encounter with the same diagnoses has a different story and unique way of dealing with this turbulence.
I also remind myself that for every negative pole there is a positive one. There is more than one way of interpreting an experience: from my own position and from that of the person I am communicating with. Removing assumptions evoked by my family member’s diagnostic labelling through empathetic listening has not only transformed my understanding of their experience. It has also increased my ability to arrive at solutions that are applicable to their expressed needs. This is not a denial that mental health problems exist but an acknowledgement that distressing experiences need to be contextualised: based on the individual as a whole person rather than single factors. I now understand the terms “bipolar,” “schizoaffective disorder,” and “autism” as part of a limited, bio-medical interpretation of complex experiences. Instead of relying on these interpretations, I listen objectively to the person having the experience, without the label.
Mad in America hosts blogs by a diverse group of writers. These posts are designed to serve as a public forum for a discussion—broadly speaking—of psychiatry and its treatments. The opinions expressed are the writers’ own.
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I remember reading the story of a woman who gave birth to a baby with Downs Syndrome. The doctors told her and her husband to institutionalize her. They refused and said, “She’s ours and we love her, just as she is.”
I was diagnosed bipolar decades ago, medicated nearly to death, electroshocked, and generally dismissed when tried to ask why most of my sister’s had nothing to do with being “bipolar”. Turns out I’m NOT, I’m autistic and have DDNOS from decades of abuse and trauma. Psychiatrists simply refuse to examine why people are the way they are. If they’d ask us, we’d tell them, but of course, they’d have to actually listen.
like you, I am walking with a loved one (my wife) thru her mental health struggles. It sounds like you are coming to/have come to some similar conclusions as i have. i walk with my wife in her reality and we find healing together. In the past I did a lot of ‘regulating’ her emotions when she was suffering a lot of extreme states, but that was a long time ago. Now we are working on restructuring her trauma paradigm, together. But I just treat her like my wife…even though i’m typically with her little-girl alters most of the time when we are alone. i don’t know what to suggest about the support groups: fortunately my wife never got swept up in the ‘system’ and so she’s always just been able to be herself to others…and I was able to see past the ‘alters’ and other stuff that comes with trauma and dissociation…so she floats in and out of those kind of groups…and mostly just has her friends and stuff at church until covid hit and curtailed that.
Anyway, I wish you and your loved one the best. It’s nice to see someone on MiA in the same boat as me. i wish there were more…
Wish my family could’ve engaged with me like this. I myself have been given 9 different labels and 30 different drugs since pre-school. The labels and the drugs only hurt and never helped. I had to emancipate myself and cut off contact because I realized it would go on like that forever if I didn’t get out. I get a lot of shaming for that, but people don’t understand that if you’re in a system of people more powerful than you that are constructing your experience in a certain way it’s almost impossible to believe yourself that they’re wrong. Glad to hear you’re showing up relationally for your loved one in this way.
The rollercoaster metaphor I find so very problematic.
In my life before psychiatry was use to end my life, as a tenured community college English teacher, in Composition I when personal narratives were assigned, I cautioned against use of one metaphor: the my life is like a roller coaster metaphor.
Students at all levels used the my life is like a roller coaster metaphor anyway, finding it very apt, apparently, though never in association with a DSM label. (This was before 2013.)
So the average student, I deduce, sees normal life as a roller coaster.
In my completely destroyed life as a victim, slowly being crushed to death, by criminal and retaliatory psychiatry, I know the roller coaster mood swing analogy is a dangerous description to place on a person and one used to control.
This piece does not provide any details of the relative’s roller coaster mood swinging. What really does this person do?
I have been labeled bipolar by an emergency room doctor I never met.
For a decade, I have been forced to deal with mental abuse and mental torture due to unprosecuted violation of the state mental health code. This came after suicide swatting from my purposely psychologically abusive, EEOC documented employer, Oakland Community College, and the usual mistreatment from sexist white male police. The school wanted to silence my voice about teacher to teacher bullying.
Outsiders, trolls, professionals might describe what they think they know of my behavior AFTER criminal psychiatry as a rollercoaster of mood swings.
And I would wish them bodily torture in reply.
No one cares about my story or my criminally imposed pain in a society that claims to care.
I fight to win my life back, I lose repeatedly, and I wear out before I can try to rebuild myself. That’s not mood swings. That’s the effect of ten years escalating terror and torture on a human isolated by criminal psychiatry.
No one wants to deal with the devastated life that I am forced to live. Every day is hell in all sectors: financially, emotionally, intellectually, etc. So I wear out before I can try to build myself back together again. That’s not mood swings. That’s the effect of torture and gaslighting. This human has been forced to endure WAY too much. There is no story like mine.
No one wants to believe my story and my story is WAY too long, with too many turns, details and chapters. No one wants to deal with any part of my story, and my story includes retaliatory jail time in 2017, because I can’t shut up about never being evaluated by Dr. Andrew Muzychka February 22, 2013.
Not even Mad in America wants to deal with my full story of criminal and retaliatory psychiatry and the destruction it causes, so I try to win, I lose, I wear out, I build back, and the cycle continues, but I always lose and I always wear out. I’m 59. Humans wear out. What I am forced to endure is not mood swings. I fight, I exist, clearly I am was never suicidal, I never win my life back, the days continue, terror grows, I wear out.
What may look like mood swings is natural human response.
What might your relative have experienced that wears your relative out?
simile. rusty. talking to myself, I know.
I understand and appreciate your dilemma.
I am a person who may even be a little like the family member that you write about. I have spent virtually all my adult life trying to resolve my own mental health problems which were originally diagnosed as schizophrenia.
You mention that communication with your family member is often difficult.
From my own experiences, I can say that there have been times when people such as family, friends or professionals have made suggestions that simply seemed wrong or threatening. We are typically told that rejecting help is a symptom of our so called “illness”. Maybe that is sometimes the case but certainly not always. Sometimes, in the middle of even my most intense madness there was an innate wisdom that guided me as to what would and wouldn’t be helpful. A lot of what was offered such as ECT, drug induced coma therapy, intense psychotherapy etc not only didn’t help but made my situation significantly worse. Sometimes I resisted with extreme violence which inevitably had traumatic consequences. Other times I agreed to things because in an exhausted, drug induced stupor it was just too hard to resist. As time went on I have become increasingly frightened by what seems to me to be the blatant abuse and misuse of authority without any repercussion. People with mental health problems, at least in the country where I live, have far less rights than criminals. Consequently I have developed an evasive way of trying to survive in this world by blending withdrawal and avoidance with aggression when backed into a corner.
You mention the problems with diagnosis.
My original diagnosis and treatment was based almost entirely on my experiences of auditory hallucinations or “hearing voices”. The voices were never really a problem but the treatment for them certainly was. At the time I just wanted to understand what they meant but those inquiries led to months of involuntary hospitalization. Only a few years ago I discovered from a TV panel discussion that lots of normal people experience voices.
Further reading led me to the convincing conclusion that psychiatric diagnosis has, at best, very limited use or validity but it is still widely used. Why?
The state mental health authorities still appear to use my original diagnosis to track and follow me around making absurd demands for compliance with their equally absurd treatment schedules.
You say that you wonder whether you have made things worse for your family member by suggesting that they connect with various networks. At one stage my very concerned mother suggested a peer-to-peer self help group that she had heard about. I decided on my own volition to give it a go. It turned my life around but there was no way of knowing that at the time. Also of course what worked for me may not work for someone else. Overall I have found support and community groups of one sort or another to be of benefit but some significantly more so than others. We can all be very wise in hindsight.
To be sent home from hospital with the stern message that you are damaged goods beyond repair and that the rest of your life will be limited and dominated by strong medications was a devastating experience for me.
I responded to this verdict with extreme anger which of course just landed me back in hospital on multiple occasions. Other people I know just sank into a fog of hopeless complacency that was possibly even more difficult to escape from.
For me, the weird and aberrant behavior typically associated with psychosis appears to be driven by deep seated trauma and the inability to resolve it. It is not something that I was ever able to control voluntarily. It was far too powerful and suggestions by some that I just needed to ‘get my act together’ are pathetically naive. I first had to discover and then master the skills that would eventually enable me to resolve at least some of the underlying trauma. Discovering these skills was also no easy task because of the vast amount of ignorance, misinformation and even outright hostility that seems to surround this subject. I found these skills easy enough to learn but they required a lot of work over a long period of time to master. A lot of the time I was flying blind.
These days my mental health is “good enough”, I no longer use medication. I still keep some handy ‘just in case’ but if I was ever to find myself back in that situation, the things that I would like to happen differently would be –
1. To be listened to.
I understand that many people including professionals are easily triggered by someone else’s psychotic behavior but the inability to relate to another person’s unusual experience, particularly by someone supposedly trained to do so, does not seem to me to be a reasonable excuse for dismissing that experience as irrelevant or insane or just pumping a person full of drugs to shut them up. In the case of professionals, it does in my view, seriously call into question their lack of training. In my experience those psychotic experiences provide a window of opportunity to help the person resolve some of the underlying trauma. In my experience it is also an opportunity frequently missed.
2. To be treated kindly as a valid worthwhile human being.
My psychotic experiences represent only a tiny fraction of my life. If handled in a kind and empathetic way, these episodes can be managed so that they not only avoid creating additional trauma but also help me move forward in my journey of learning how to manage these experiences by myself. This is something that we all should ideally learn as young children but for some reason or other I didn’t. Blaming, condemning, punishing, mistreating or otherwise abusing a person who is experiencing psychosis only makes the situation worse both for the person affected and for others around them. It serves no functional purpose for anybody.
As I see it, it is ultimately up to your family member to find their own way out of this unfortunate situation. As far as I can see, there is no simple one-solution-fits-all answer. I have certainly looked hard to try and find one. Support, kindness, acceptance and empathy, that is the ability to walk in the shoes of someone, particularly when they are having a psychotic experience may not be the answer but I am pretty certain that it will not add to the problem.
Tim, thank you so much for your very deep and insightful comment. I was diagnosed with “schizophrenia” after an episode of hearing voices and intense paranoid delusions. I was involuntarily hospitalized. It was more than 10 years ago and I have never had a relapse. I stopped using neuroleptics less than 2 months after my release from the psychiatric hospital, though psychiatrists claimed that I was incurably mentally ill.
You say: “To be sent home from hospital with the stern message that you are damaged goods beyond repair and that the rest of your life will be limited and dominated by strong medications was a devastating experience for me.” I can relate so much to it! I felt so depressed after my release from the hospital, I was sometimes having suicidal thoughts. I felt horrible on neuroleptics, as if I were no longer myself, and I had all kinds of “side effects”.
Fortunately I decided to join an online community for people diagnosed with schizophrenia (a community which unfortunately later turned out to be dominated by some very toxic people who were hostile to anyone critical of psychiatry and generally to anyone they saw as “different”) and while reading some comments I found out that it was possible to come off neuroleptics. It was incredibly empowering and liberating! I decided to come off my neuroleptic, though I could not talk about it to anyone, not even to my closest family members. It was definitely one of the best decisions I have taken in my life.
Brain injuries are often misdiagnosed as bipolar because of the mood swings and insomnia and fatigue.
Complex PTSD is sometimes diagnosed as bipolar.
Brain injuries and illnesses such as alzheimer’s, tumors and damage from strokes etc that cause lesions, i.e actual tissue damage to the brain, account for a small but significant percentage of “behavioural” problems that get misdiagnosed as psychiatric disorders.
The most common way to detect brain lesions is with diagnostic imaging scans.
Psychiatrists are first and foremost trained doctors so they should be well versed in these techniques and have the ability to use their skills to determine these sorts of problems. Unfortunately some appear to be incompetent or simply too lazy to do their job properly resulting in these sorts of mistakes.
As for misdiagnosis of complex PTSD and bipolar disorder, that would only be the tip of the iceberg. As said in my recent post, my conclusion, shared by many and backed by a lot of credible research indicates that psychiatric diagnosis has, at best, very limited use or validity.
There seems to be growing evidence that the underlying cause of PTSD, bipolar, schizophrenia and many other so called “mental illnesses” is trauma which just manifests in different ways.
I would submit that there is no way to “misdiagnose” “bipolar disorder,” as there is no legitimate, objective way to “diagnose” it correctly. If we can’t objectively distinguish between those who “have bipolar disorder” and those who do not, the idea of a “diagnosis” loses all value except as simply a discussion term. If you can’t know you are “right,” how can you know if your “diagnosis” is “wrong?”
But I agree with you completely – the lion’s share of “mental illness” is simply each person’s response to trauma and difficulties in survival which we all face in one way or another.
What I was trying to say was that some people who have physical brain lesions resulting from accidents or actual diseases are sometimes incorrectly diagnosed as having psychotic or similar experiences.
I do agree with you, 100%! But I guess I’d put it another way: people who have physical brain lesions resulting from accidents or actual diseases are NOT diagnosed because someone labels them with a psych disorder instead of actually finding out what’s wrong with them! I guess I have a big problem calling these labels “diagnoses” instead of recognizing they are meaningless labels, no different than saying, “He’s socially awkward” or “she’s pretty aggressive in conversations.” They are opinions based largely on biases and stereotypes and tell us NOTHING about what is really going on for that person. And as you point out, they also deflect attention from searching for ACTUAL medical diagnoses that we CAN do something about!
Testament. No one will believe me, an old comedian you to say allegedly as he messed with people in public, stealing french fries. Far more serious, no one will believe me. And the brain and full life pain I endure is WAY too much for too long.
I was Hitler and its not god damn funny. But this isn’t a roller coaster. It’s hell.
I am screaming in pain, boogers everywhere. Mercy would be a blood clot; be done with this 100% imposed the hell on earth. not suicidal. Not a rollercoaster. Torture is what it is and its not okay to torture me, America!
The last decade. First criminal psychiatry, then retaliation from my powerful attackers, including jail, because I wouldn’t shut up, then came the internet trolls, Kiwi Farms names themselves among I don’t know who else or how many, then the computer hacks.
No one will believe me, and the pain is too much for too long.
I have told my story about criminal psychiatry but for years not talked about the understory of hacks until now. 2023 is the ten year anniversary of my death by criminal psychiatry. Its not clear what will come first, homelessness or the anniversary, and its not okay. None of this okay, Michigan America, my never ending hellf*ck.
Between 2016 and 2018, at Lake Miramichi, Evart, Michigan, living in a cabin without heat or running water due to imposed poverty, my laptop keyboard intermittently did not work and stopped me from writing, silenced me. I would type a “t” and would get a capital “M.” None of the keys worked properly. Intermittently. Those are just examples. The pattern would change. Next time I would type a “t” and get a “t,” but would type a “g” and get a “!” The dysfunction would come and go. The keyboard never broke. After a few hours of me screaming in pain, the dysfunction would stop. For over two years. I connected that laptop to the internet through a jump drive when I could get a ride to the library. So hacks got in that way, I presume. I took videos. I was screaming and crying in the videos because brain rape hurts a lot.
In Bay City, Michigan, I have been subject to all kinds of hacks across three devices. It’s been extra thick hell this fall, which caused me to lose my probably last job (work at home customer service). The terror I have been forced to endure in this f*cker’s country is more than anyone will know or believe, hell not a rollercoaster, and its way too much for way too long.
I can’t even remember right now all the hacks I have endured.
On the day I was suicide swatted February 22, 2013, my Facebook page appeared to be hacked and the documents I posted from the Oakland Community College sexist gaslight bogus mental health care witchhunt were removed, missing. My new writers website was ransacked when the school launched its attack in 2012. There is has so much suspicious activity and no one will believe me or bother to look at the evidence. No one will help. That’s not a roller coaster. That’s torture in hell on earth.
On the day before Thanksgiving, this year, I was at the beach, Lake Huron. The place was practically deserted. A figure was hacked into three of the many pictures I took. The figure is a rough red hooded figure from the back, no face, which looks like one of the characters I’ve drawn, based on the iconic little red riding hood.
Nothing is worth brain rape. Nothing is worth brain rape. I don’t deserve brain rape. I don’t deserve brain rape. Stop stop stop stop stop. Not a rollercoaster. Stop the hell. Stop the torture of me, my f*cker country. Putting up with your f*cking crap for a decade I have proven I was never suicidal, but my America is an inferno of cruelty that won’t stop.
Prosecute St Mary Mercy Trinity Health with human trafficking. Statute of limitation 25 years. Three disparate sets of medical records prove my claim: I was not evaluated by Dr. Andrew Muzychka in the emergency room and the overall the state mental health code was trounced. Out Oakland Community College. Plenty of documentation to prove my claims that I was set up and psychologically abused. But there is no help in this country that is nowhere near as a great as it thinks it is.
On top of criminal psychiatry, which is too painful and life ending itself, especially at age 48, there have been so many hacks on welfare cellphone, my camera phone and desktop computer in the last few months I can’t recall them all right now. Brain raped too much too long hell not rollercoaster.
About a week ago, my keyboard on my desktop completely freaked out. Started moving phrases without me typing or touching the keyboard. I took a video. I am screaming and boogers are coming out of my nose, but I recorded what happened.
Call the police? The police are part of the problem. When I was falsely prosecuted for allegedly stalking an Oakland Community College cop at Lake Miramichi (with a second home across the street from my dead husband’s cabin), I received death and rape threats through Gmail, which the Michigan State refused to acknowledge while they were falsely prosecuting me based on dirty cop’s lies and no evidence of stalking. Documented, everything documented, but who wants to read? Later, when the 49th District Court wanted to re-jail me, to silence me from telling my story online, the prosecutor and judge used Facebook troll accounts to claim I violated probation regarding the internet. One troll was the name of the guy who threatened to kill my dog, rape and murder me in 2017. The other “liked” Adolf Hitler on Facebook. Judge Kimberley Booher hid everything by not actually holding probation hearings. My lawyer? Piece of sh*t American took care of himself only.
I swear, I tried to edit this piece in a timely fashion but was stopped. Nothing is the worth the hell of my life.