Saturday, January 18, 2020

Comments by psmama

Showing 21 of 21 comments.

  • I agree with both of your comments Sylvian. I am so confused by this seemingly support of drug trials, whether a psych drug or illegal drug. It makes no sense to give credence to this study. Some people are more relaxed when they drink alcohol, does that mean when sober they are just walking around with a too low blood alcohol?
    In the name of full disclosure, I do use cannabis. I acknowledge that it is not fixing the trauma I endured but is a way for me to escape the reality of what I endured. Adults should have the ability to choose whatever helps them get through life, but calling mind altering drugs medicine, is taking it too far.
    And mascarading a psychedelic as an actual “treatment ” is incredibly harmful and dangerous.

  • This news, for me, comes as a shock. Julie wrote openly of her experiences in the eating disorder world of treatment, one which I related too well. I don’t have the words right now as I am trying to let it sink in, this stranger in the computer whom I had come to look forward to reading all her comments and writings. My heart is heavy. Rest well Julie…

  • Rachel, I don’t view you as a failure, I see you as a survivor. But I do relate so much to that feeling. I relate to many of your comments you leave on this site. I struggle with my relationship with my mother as she stood by and watched them drug me, told me I was sick and had a chemical imbalance because at 14 I was distressed over the sexual abuse I endured at 11 and 12 by a family member. She stood by when they drugged me to a zombie state in a matter of weeks at a “top notch” eating disorder center at the age of 21 and then she drove me in that state to have my brain electrocuted because who would expect a mother who is also a medical professional, to question such barbaric treatment. I find myself having to forgive her over and over again because the flashbacks make it all so raw and violating. I also believe her denial is due to the fact that if she admitted her nearly 40 year old daughter was living with her and financially dependent on her due to her playing along and forcing the drugs and ect, is too much for her heart to acknowledge. For that, I try to be gentle with her because I do see her pain when I cry over not being able to work or live in my own space. My fear of what will happen when she is no longer here.
    The pittance the government gives me each month as restitution for their sanctioned torture is just enough to allow me to see how little my actual life and suffering were worth. I was a freaking cheerleader! Now I am mostly a recluse, afraid of people, saddened by the state of our society and what we allow. Most people are completely unaware of the underbelly of the beast.

  • I remember praying fervently while in the psych annex, for protection of my mind and spirit. I knew every time they gave me “meds”, I was slipping away. I prayed that one person would see that my pain was not only understandable but warranted. I believe for me, that my focus continuing to stay on my faith and not on the self proclaimed human gods, is what literally saved my life. His grace was sufficient for me.

  • “You can have a perfectly fabulous life after going through sheer hell — you can go through it, and you can come out on the other side.”
    Thank you for those words. I’ve heard them before, but NEVER from someone who would completely understand what it is to try to get your footing back after escaping. I too had the internal urge to get my medical records. I only got them from one hospital, the others wanted to charge me and due to their “treatment ” I am not working yet, therefore could not afford the proof. For me, my records were the thing that confirmed that I was not lying or exaggerating concerning the torture I suffered through. I also feel that my anger at being locked up for no valid reason, in my opinion, just a child sex abuse victim with depression, saved my life. My anger protected me from being completely brainwashed, although they did try hard and I was falling into it at times.
    I say this all to say thank you. Thank you for sparking that hope in me that I can be more than a mother again. That I can actually maybe one day , WANT to be here for more than just making sure my kiddo is safe. Thank you….

  • I relate to the police cars. I freeze. I was innocent before but hauled of like a criminal and put in a cage. I too struggle with the before, during and after selves. Who would I have been had I been allowed to be me? That one aches in my heart daily. Wondering if my interactions with others was “normal” because I still don’t know what I did wrong to be punished to begin with. I was just honest. It is bittersweet to hear that I am not alone in this struggle to now figure out where and how I belong. I also feel that if there was validation and an “I’m so sorry” by those who directed and completed those assaults on my very being, I would not be so afraid of the world. But all I have ever heard is baseless justifications. I hear you Cat. I believe you. I wish for all of us to find our place and some peace in this world.

  • You scare them because they know you are right. The last time I was in treatment, 2 years ago, under the condition that if I didn’t go, due to my weight they would court order me, I was a thorn in their side. They were frustrated that I refused to do trauma work with them, strangers. I was there for one reason only in my mind, to get enough weight on to not be court ordered. I did speak of my torture to the psych and told her I refused any labels she was going to give me besides post traumatic stress injury and that under no circumstances would I take their drugs. Since I was “voluntary” that was the only right I could assert. I watched as they sent a young baby, 19 years old, drugged to the max, off 3 days a week for shock treatment. It was horrible to be watching what they had done to me and being helpless to stop it. I was scolded after sharing with patients that their “anxiety medication” was not in fact that but that seroquel was a heavy antipsychotic. They lies and manipulation were so hard to watch and even moreso traumatizing than when it was being done to me. They don’t care about the person, they care about keeping clients.

  • Wow Julie, thank you. Yes, everything in treatment that you say is your “ed talking”. They try to condition you to believe that ed is another entity inside of you. Talk about crazy making. And when there are rational reasons that one could use a harmful coping skill, it’s minimized and said that is ed just trying to take control. No bitch! Maybe I find it hard to meet my needs because I was conditioned to believe my needs weren’t deserving of being met. Although on a logical level I know that is untrue, it hard to compute that to the treatment I received for being an honest human being asking for help in an abusive family setup. There are so many days I wish I had never told or spoke up about my uncle’s abuse of me, because then I wouldn’t know the pain of my entire family discounting the pain and trauma it caused justifying their torture of my very being. I am in a place of accepting nutrition as long as I am not having to place that food in my mouth. I am still very much trying to allow myself to meet my basic needs and took control of how to go about it. No more dbt, fake it till you make it. No more being removed from society to “get well”, because I only ever came back more broken and fragile each time. Thank you for hearing me, really hearing me. That means so much.

  • I tried to post this once but it came back marked as spam… weird. So here’s my second try. I have been reading the comments daily since Sunday after your blog was put up, wanting to comment myself but finding it hard due to intense and intrusive memories. I will never understand why I was treated as less that a human being by those who were “helping” as my family, my mother, stood by and allowed it. Blaming me when it just compounded my agony. I was brainwashed at the age of 14 into believing something was wrong with my brain, with me, because I found living in a family who coddled my pedophile abuser after disclosure, unbearable to live. I was held down and mouth pried open by my own parents as they forced that first pill. After that, I knew better than to fight them and always placed those drugs in my own mouth. They never helped but I did become increasingly “mental” resulting in self harm and ending up with a severe eating disorder which I still struggle with at the age of 37. Treat for that just resulted in poly drugging and then sending me in a zombified state to a shock doc, because in 9 weeks and over a dozen “medications” I was “medication resistant”. Mind you the abusers were still in my family and one welcomed into my childhood home constantly telling me how God wants me to forgive and that’s the cause of my distress. Those shocks killed a huge part of me. They DESTROYED what little trust and hope I had in my relationship with my mother. There is a before shock person and and after. They look they same but I can tell you that I am not the same, at all. I trust no medical practioners and question everything. I break out in sweats and find it hard to hide the intense fear upon entering a hospital for any reason, and that’s hard when I now have a feeding tube in my abdomen to help keep me going. I find that being out in public, even saying not one word, I feel so far away from the strangers walking through Target, wishing I could once again wander the aisles without the knowledge of what humans are truly capable of and still not quite knowing what exactly I did to deserve that, all of it. I have a child, and because of him, I stay. I know that sounds heavy but, without him I have no want or will to continue on this hell of a place we call earth. I just never want my kiddo to ever feel that no one has his back, that no one will stand up for and fight for him. That is why I stay. But it’s so hard to keep going when my soul is more than tired. I still have yet to find the point of fighting so hard to keep me alive if they were killing everything that made life worth living. I am surviving, but that is far from thriving. 5 years med free now, I am more clear and able to sense danger and know that I did not deserve any of that. I just wish the heart and soul would mend enough to make every day here not a curse that must just be gotten through. Thank you Bonnie for your hard work. I am in tears and my heart is overwhelmed that you think enough of us to fight for us. Thank you…..

  • This whole thread just infuriates me! We are HUMAN BEINGS! At one hospitalization, 8 weeks pregnant and stopped all meds cold turkey for my baby and had severe withdrawal and suicidal thoughts, I ran into a doctor who saw me as nothing less than a thing. I was severely constipated and requested an enema that I could take to my room and administer to myself. They were all aware that I was a child sex abuse victim/survivor, but that didn’t stop the doctor’s refusal to allow me that dignity. He said I could not only not administer an enema to myself, I could not have one at all. The only option I was given was for this 70+ year old man to digitally stimulate my rectum and “break up the stool”. I cried and refused. I was then given zyprexa (Satan’s drug) and 20 minutes later I was on the exam table crying while a nurse stroked my head and this man dug his fingers in my body for well over one minute. I was in shock, drugged and humiliated. And I still didn’t have have a bowel movement. I ended up on the floor of my private shower for the next 2 hours crying. I then got dressed, walked to the nurses station and filed a formal complaint. Worst mistake ever! The comments and treatment I received from the male techs after was enough to make anyone not wanting to die to begin with, want to be die. I survived only because of the other “inmates” compassion and support. One of which was a veteran that spoke up on my behalf when being mistreated. I will never forget how he put himself in danger for me, not once by going to actual war, but twice by going to battle for me in those walls. I suffer from complex ptsd now from not just the abuse I received as a child, but the torture I received because I was a victim. Thank you for speaking out. I hear you! I believe you! And I am so sorry you had to suffer at their hands too.

  • Oh my gosh Steve, Thank you! After nearly 20 yrs of being told that there was actually something inately wrong with me because I was believed, the police were involved, he plead down and my family member stayed married to him and I was significantly traumatized everytime I saw her, it’s nice to hear someone “get it”. He admitted it once all the evidence was clear, yet I got force drugged, brainwashed, seperated from my sisters, had my parents be told I was a lost cause, electrocuted and have male dr’s refuse to allow me to give myself an enema and was subjected to rectal digital stimulaion while on zyprexa by a dirty old man…..only now am I finding the courage to fight back. NEVER AGAIN! I will never allow anyone to treat me as anything less than human, at least not without them ending up scars too…

  • Wow, thank you! I too hate the word treatment. It doesn’t fit. The truth is, I am scared to death to be anywhere, even if I am in a frame of mind to know my rights, my right at this time to refuse medications. But I cannot survive going into a hospital psych hospital ever again and those are the choices I am faced with. So voluntary, no meds because those lead to the most horrific place on earth, seems like the only option. I just am not sure how much help it will be beyond weight restoration because I have learned to not ever again trust the system with the details of my heartache and trauma, they only see symptoms and never actually hear you. I am not sure if this is how life is supposed to be, but I know that I can no longer trust another to hold sacred, my truth, my life. All I wanted was to forget, because asking for help only killed me more.

  • As one who has suffered through the disorder eating behaviors and the physical effects, not once have I ever wondered why. I know the cause, for me. And I am pretty positive that all other sufferers, if honest with themselves, know deep down too. And let me the you, it has not one thing to do with my DNA. For me, when it kicks in the hunger gets so much that it consumes the mind, making it harder to have the memories of abuse as a child, then being labled for the subsequent depression when pedophile was kept in the family, forcefully drugged…. well, when everyone who says they are helping you and love you yet all of their actions are in complete contrast to that, you can’t live in that reality for long when it hurts so much. I just wanted someone to listen and help, instead they tried to drug it out of their site. Today, I am in what they call “relapse”. I have flashbacks from their “care” that was anything but. I am trying to figure out how I heal my heart so I can find the courage to keep my body alive. That has nothing to do with anything that these so called experts profess to know. Unfortunately, I have found myself in a place where they say I can go to treatment voluntarily, for now but my window of voluntary treatment is closing. It sucks that that which I am scarred by is professing now to be what will heal me. And fyi, in treatment they refer to everyones eating disorder as ED, like another being inside of you. Brainwashing clients to nearly believe in an almost split personality like thing. And the meds, the mounds of meds……. no wonder the relapse rate is so high…

  • The state of AZ placed all of their medicaid recipients who received a seriously mentally ill label by abusive dr’s, onto a newly formed insurence plan without a the right to refuse that plan, and then the state made public announcements of this plan and that only those deemed “smi” will be covered. Try going to the dr with that insurence card and everyone from the receptionist who logs your new insurence info to the dr will look at you with caution. Try fighting that and the United States Department of Health and Human Services say no violation of privacy happened and the discrimination against tens of thousands in the state is not a rights violation. No one wants to hear the truth, they think our being upset is just another validation of how sick we are. Where do you go when there is no safe place to turn???

  • Wow Tina, your words brought me to tears. You so perfectly worded what I feel my life experience has been. I am now stuck with the how questions. How do I move forward from this, how do I learn to trust when every person intimatly involved in my life told me something was inately wrong with me because I was depressed after child sexual abuse? How do I learn to breath in a relaxed state because those officers were sent to my house, put me in handcuffs in front of my family and neighbors like I was a criminal, all because my psych thought I lost too much weight. How for years and years I had side effects from drugs and was then just drugged more, then had my brain hooked up to jumper cables because I voiced I wanted to die because I felt inhuman, all brought on by the bounty of drugs given to me so that no one would have to listen to the broken child inside that just wanted to feel safe again. How do i , only 2yrs free from meds after two decades of torture and discrimination because of it, find my will to want to live in this heinous world with such evil people? Am I depressed today, why yes of course, I feel alone in twilight zone, where speaking my truth gets looks of concern and anger from my family., because remember, I am not a traumatized child sex abuse victim who was never given the opportunity to heal and instead was blamed and tortured and labeled defective, I am just their crazy mentally ill, adult daughter, still living in their home unable to work. All that caused my initial depression and shame is still there, I was never allowed to heal, and now I have 20yrs of consistent abuse by numerous “trusted professionals” to add on top. How do I not give up now, and get to the other side? Or better, what worked for you, others? Thanks for hearing my broken heart and thanks for speaking up for us all.