Dear Yildirim,
Thank you for your passionate and powerful words. While the scale and severity you describe may seem unbelievable to those who haven’t lived it, for many of us, your message reflects a reality we have endured — one that remains hidden behind the polished facade of “care.”
Your framing of this as a silent, ongoing global atrocity resonates deeply. Chemical lobotomy, coercion disguised as treatment, and the systemic silencing of survivors — these are not isolated incidents, but patterns embedded in the structure of modern psychiatry. And the most disturbing part is how invisible it all remains to the public, cloaked in the language of “help” and “science.”
I stand with your call for accountability, for humane and truly healing alternatives, and for the exposure of psychiatric harm in all its forms. I am especially grateful for independent voices like yours who are not afraid to speak out.
Thank you for your solidarity, and for reminding us that this is not just a personal story — it’s a global fight for truth and dignity.
Dear Rosalee,
Thank you deeply for your kind words and solidarity. Your message touched me more than I can express. It’s heartbreaking that even in countries like Canada, where one expects more humane standards, people still face such coldness and cruelty in psychiatric settings. What you described resonates painfully with what I’ve witnessed — a system that too often empowers ego over empathy.
As someone who has seen this both as a doctor and as a patient, I believe our shared voices are vital in pushing back against the normalization of coercion. Your support gives me strength, and I’m truly grateful for it. I promise to carry this mission forward with care, conviction, and caution. Please stay safe too, and thank you for standing with me.
Your words give me strength. Sometimes, I feel like I’m screaming from a cage, and I’m not sure if anyone hears me. Knowing that someone far away sees what I see — and feels what I feel — is no small thing. Thank you for standing with me.
Thank you, Jean. You’re right — speaking the truth here carries real risks. But silence was becoming its own kind of death. I’m careful, but I refuse to disappear. Your words mean more than you know.
Dear Yildirim,
Thank you for your passionate and powerful words. While the scale and severity you describe may seem unbelievable to those who haven’t lived it, for many of us, your message reflects a reality we have endured — one that remains hidden behind the polished facade of “care.”
Your framing of this as a silent, ongoing global atrocity resonates deeply. Chemical lobotomy, coercion disguised as treatment, and the systemic silencing of survivors — these are not isolated incidents, but patterns embedded in the structure of modern psychiatry. And the most disturbing part is how invisible it all remains to the public, cloaked in the language of “help” and “science.”
I stand with your call for accountability, for humane and truly healing alternatives, and for the exposure of psychiatric harm in all its forms. I am especially grateful for independent voices like yours who are not afraid to speak out.
Thank you for your solidarity, and for reminding us that this is not just a personal story — it’s a global fight for truth and dignity.
With respect and appreciation,
Mohamed
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Dear Rosalee,
Thank you deeply for your kind words and solidarity. Your message touched me more than I can express. It’s heartbreaking that even in countries like Canada, where one expects more humane standards, people still face such coldness and cruelty in psychiatric settings. What you described resonates painfully with what I’ve witnessed — a system that too often empowers ego over empathy.
As someone who has seen this both as a doctor and as a patient, I believe our shared voices are vital in pushing back against the normalization of coercion. Your support gives me strength, and I’m truly grateful for it. I promise to carry this mission forward with care, conviction, and caution. Please stay safe too, and thank you for standing with me.
Warm regards,
Mohamed
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Your words give me strength. Sometimes, I feel like I’m screaming from a cage, and I’m not sure if anyone hears me. Knowing that someone far away sees what I see — and feels what I feel — is no small thing. Thank you for standing with me.
Report comment
Thank you, Jean. You’re right — speaking the truth here carries real risks. But silence was becoming its own kind of death. I’m careful, but I refuse to disappear. Your words mean more than you know.
Report comment