Sunday, May 22, 2022

Is Psychiatry totalitarian?

Home Forums Rethinking Psychiatry Is Psychiatry totalitarian?

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    “But I am not sure it is right to demonize psychiatrists as monsters. Most of them have convinced themselves that they are doing the right thing for their patients.”

    The road to hell is paved with good intentions, as they say.

    Psychiatrist these days mostly have two tricks. First is that they give brain disabling drugs. Other is that they give different degrading labels to people.

    Some of them even whine that they need to be respected more, they’ve done eight years of studies and they understand that many of the patients have anosognosia.

    If the other of their main techniques is giving degrading labels to people, then it kind of fits that their label also gets degraded. There should be some centralised database where patients could “review” the psychiatrists and give them different labels. “A pharma puppet”, “Authority delusional dysfunction”, etc.

    If you take eight years of the studies leading to become a psychiatry, it just proves that these persons are very authoritarianist, and perhaps not very capable of independent thought. The other persons figured this out earlier in their studies and switched to some other profession.


    Most of what we call good intentions are, au fond, not neccessarily transcendently bad or anything, but self-serving. Psychiatrists and psychiatric nurses who coerce and lie have no excuses. At some point these people started to put their careers above their morals, and they must be judged. All this nonsense being said by some today about them ‘lacking insight’ and all the rest of the deceptions is a steaming pile of crap. These people, at least mostly,  in my opinion, are self-serving careerists, and not the medical samaritans some believe. Take away the money that all these quacks and their lackeys and bully-boys get, and they wouldn’t give a toss about the patients they, with mock-sympathy and pro forma concern, pretend to care for.

    That’s the problem you see, most people do not care about each other. Take these psychiatrists who claim to want to help, or to have got into psychiatry because  they want to help people. How many institutional psychiatrists are friends with their patients, hang around with each other, help each other with money etc etc etc ? They don’t care about their patients, they do what they do because, inter alia, they get paid to do that. Rarely do they have anything in common that might serve to forge empathy between the two, and often, perhaps even usually, there is a polarity between patient and psychiatrist. Yet we all have to sit back and watch this pathetic spectacle of a bunching self-serving idiots, destitute of morals, parade around in the garb of carers, like that clown without makeup Dr Moffic.





    mjk said: “Also in that hospital was this one woman who had been there for months.  She walked around every day wearing the same pants which had a full seat of dried menstrual blood.  They actually let her stay in those pants – for the entire month that I was there, she never changed. ”

    The detainee with menstrual blood all over her psychiatric prison garb story is that of a visual/appearance indignity, why would a group of people (psych nurses and psychiatrists), who don’t give a (censored) about the indignity of people having their very brains RAPED by forced drugging, a hidden indignity, a biological assault, care about a visual, exterior of body, clothing soiled indignity?

    If you’re prepared to rape someone’s consciousness, you’re prepared to rape their dignity in terms of their exterior clothing appearance. And to the majority who are handed a tampon, does that make it alright, that psychiatry is prepared to invade and occupy their brains, even if they do keep up appearances in a menstrual cycle sense? Let’s not forget for a second, that these people are prepared to do this to pregnant women too, not only do they not care if you have menstrual blood on your pants, they are prepared to forcibly drug women who have babies growing inside them!

    Let us never forget, that during periods of detaining innocent people on the basis of them being labeled brain diseased organ unseen by these quacks, multitudes of people, women, men, have been denied their right to basic hygiene, forced to beg for permission while locked down in solitary confinement “quiet rooms” to go to the bathroom, forced to soil themselves, forced to defecate and urinate in containers placed in “quiet rooms”, forced to be stuck in hermetically sealed  “quiet rooms” for hours with the stink of their own feces, forced to beg for a change of clothes, forced to beg for a reason, an explanation, any explanation, of why they can’t place a phone call, why they can’t see loved ones, why they must submit to forced injections of unknown drugs, why they must be treated like animals, why they must suffer every indignity that wouldn’t even be visited on a death row prisoner that is offered an open choice of a “last meal”.

    Let us not forget the many dead, who die face down in the quiet room, when staff suffocate them to death, for the crime of refusing oral meds, when the injection goons enter the room to dominate and rape the person’s brain for the sole crime of thinking thoughts declared “out of order”.

    For menstrual blood stories are but the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the daily, hourly, indignities, visited upon the innocent human beings who happen to dare experience emotional distress, in a society gripped by psychiatric ideology.

    I will never forget so long as live, pacing around the “quiet room” (Orwellian psychiatric newspeak for solitary confinement), pacing around wishing these rapists of brains would leave me alone.

    The only reason I was in there was refusing to swallow oral pills, and this is the reality of forced psychiatry brain rape, the pathetic, evil domination of innocent strangers, that the pieces of work who feed their families with our misery by turning up to work each day, engage in.

    To take a paid job, where you’re prepared to brutalize innocent strangers, and to buy food with the money you earn, and feed it to your kids, is immoral, and repugnant.

    Somewhere out there was a kid, fed with a spoon, full of baby food, paid for with the money earned, by the job of locking me in a toilet-less room, and taking me down, stripping me naked, and sticking me with a needle of drugs, that would deliver a tranquilizer drug that would breach my blood brain barrier, with the sole aim of destroying my ability to think the thoughts they said were “out of order”, and any other thoughts, this is psychiatry everybody. This is psychiatry.

    And anyone who doesn’t feel like explosively vomiting their lunch after comprehending what these vile human rights criminals do for a living, can explain to me why this is justified please.








    Do you mind if I ask – how/why did you tell them that you weren’t going to take the medication? Had you thought they would respect your right to say no?

    In the hospital I was in many other patients refused medication usually along the lines of “No, F*** you! I’m not taking it, and you can’t make me!!!”. Within about 10 minutes of that, about 3 security people as well as the nurses would hold the person down and inject them. The person would normally be lying in their bed tied up afterwards.

    I found it was more successful to pretend to swallow the pills and then either put them down the sink or in my case, one of the little travel bottles of body lotion that they provided. Then you get the added bonus of listening to them make fools of themselves. Plus (ironically) I think it really helps you to think clearly and act “normally” if you’re not drugged up to the eyeballs, and hence escape earlier.

    One girl I shared my room with was kept there for over a month. She had refused to “confess” that she had been trying to harm herself. We talked about it, and I recommended to her that I thought the only way she would get out of there was to tell them what they want to hear. Which she then did. The look of delight on the Doctors’ face was eerie…

    Like some of the other commenters, I don’t believe all those people I encountered were “evil”…I think they genuinely believe they were helping me. What is most infuriating is that they seem to so strongly believe in their right to “help”, that they will lie to you, assault you, terrorise and traumatize you, until you’ve shown that you’re appropriately grateful for the “help”.

    That said, I do think that profession does seem to draw some people who seem spectacularly authoritarian in their personality. There were definitely a couple who just simply didn’t seem to be able to handle any form of questioning, no matter how polite or sincere.


    “why would a group of people (psych nurses and psychiatrists), who don’t give a (censored) about the indignity of people … care about a visual, exterior of body, clothing soiled indignity?”

    The “thing” in my head kept calling them “wankers” as I was typing that paragraph.  Since “wanker” is not a word in my vocabulary, I had to look it up.  Boy, did that give me an entirely different perspective.  O.O

    I don’t know if I could agree that sexual gratification was the motivation for allowing the lower region of a woman to remain so … attention getting.  Subconsciously and / or psychologically speaking, it cannot be ruled out.

    In fact, I had been in another hospital in New Jersey (before being transferred to the long-term tour-of-duty) and what I found there is almost *unspeakable*.  I concluded that NJ is a Hell on Earth and now I know why a cousin of mine committed suicide.  It was almost … divine … that I toured NJ in the way that I did.  I’d never been to NJ and I’ve never met my cousin.  His name was Warren and I’ve always wondered about him.  WHY?  Just, why?  I was in Warren County when I found all that I needed … to *understand*.


    I would add, there is nothing “quiet” about a solitary confinement “quiet room”. Practically speaking, they are often built side by side with other identical cells, the visceral screams of the captives in the next cell will haunt you for life, if you’re a captive yourself, and not one of the staff/brain rapists drinking coffee and filling out reports, in a nearby office talking chit-chat about sports, for whom imprisoning strangers in such a room is just all in a day’s work. (Their parents proud they are allegedly helping those labeled “mentally ill” for a living).

    That is the practical level of why “quiet rooms” are anything but quiet.

    In the more intangible sense, these alleged “quiet rooms”, become an indelible, maximum decibel scream, seared into your soul, etched into your retina, and burned, scorched-earth style, into your very soul forevermore.

    I am reminded at this point of the title of a book by a useful to the establishment psychiatrist who believes she is brain diseased mentally ill, the title of the book, “an unquiet mind”, an ever-popular propaganda tool to hand freshly minted mental patients….

    What about instead…?,

    “An unquiet room”.


    There’s a room in every city, where innocent strangers, will face-off helpless against strangers imposed on them by their government, who come bearing needles and the legal power to strip you to your naked buttock and force them into your body with legal impunity, a room of terror and horror. And your number might just come up.

    All it takes, is to dare think the forbidden thoughts. To dare feel the forbidden feelings. To dare believe the forbidden beliefs.

    The DSM outlines what these forbidden mentations are.

    And God can’t save you if you wind up laid out on the 21st century crucifix of psychiatry’s rubber bed.

    In fact, there is a whole cottage industry profiting from brain rape…

    Seclusion Beds
    Made to the same high standards and specifications as the other seclusion furniture,
    this useful seclusion bed/mattress has no internal frame or external zips etc. ”

    This is the bed they slam you down on, pull your pants down, and rape your brain on.[email protected]/7908785042/

    This is the weapon they use to deliver their brain raping drugs, stabbing strangers who just dragged in 15 minutes ago for the crime of experiencing extreme states of mind. Too real for you???[email protected]/7908784892/








    Typo… that should read “stabbing strangers who were just dragged in 15 minutes ago for the crime of experiencing extreme states of mind”

    And THEN what do the brain rapists do? they lock the door… on the already brutalized stranger that they’ve never met, and don’t know (censored) about their life history, or the context of their problems… they lock the door, and leave their terrified quarry behind the perspex glass, to be peered at, like an animal, like a specimen…[email protected]/7908834300/



    “when forced fluids are indicated”.

    Make no mistake people, we are dealing with institutionalized violence. No matter if hundreds of psych nurses got assaulted by the strangers they get paid to assault every day, it would pale in comparison to the violence they unleash on the people they legally own.



    “I found it was more successful to pretend to swallow the pills and then either put them down the sink or in my case, one of the little travel bottles of body lotion that they provided. ”

    They’re so clever … now they’re using dissolveable tablets.  I was given risperdal in dissolveable form – that drug made me blind (and I kept passing out).  When I complained to the “doctor” about my disturbed vision she said, “you want me to give you something for your eyes?”.

    Um, NO.  Is it just me or is that pure stupidity and reckless negligence?  Here’s the thing:  I’m NOT a drug junkie.  When they “recommended” a “dual-diagnosis” and 30 hours per week of substance abuse treatment, I absolutely *flipped out* and completely lost it.  That was one pivotal point that technically set me on a war path with this so-called “industry” and cystem.

    I’m NOT a junkie.  Those people were *convinced* that I was lying and hiding a cocaine habit.  When I tested negative, the woman looked so confused and she literally said to another “worker” – it’s negative?  I said HELLO – I told you I’ve never done that junk a day in my life.  They just DON’T believe anything except themselves and what they want to believe.

    I’m beginning to wonder and really ask myself – why am I here on a “psychiatric” website?  Hmm.  Is it that I just can’t escape?  And because they robbed me of two decades of my life?

    I really am anti-drug.  But psychiatry isn’t, so this is for them:

    ‘cuz all-in-all, I truly do believe that the psychiatric “drug” mind-set is just a continuation of REAL JUNKIES.  You WON’T be telling me that YOU folks don’t snort, toke and shimmy shake with your “good stuff”.


    ” to be peered at”…. the peering through perspex glass, is the real “peering”, the most consequential “peer”, you’ll find going on at a mental hospital today. The cold, brutal, clinical gaze, of the brain rapist, is the only “peer” you’ll notice when you’re imprisoned in solitary. In “the hole”.

    And this is what forced psychiatry is all about. The pictures you have just seen, just 1% of my photo collection, are the tools of torture, the tools of indignity, that are being used against innocent people, every hour, of every day, right around every western country. This is “best medical practice” to these people.

    One day, I’ll share the worst photos in my collection with you.


    “Do you mind if I ask – how/why did you tell them that you weren’t going to take the medication? Had you thought they would respect your right to say no?”

    Why? Like so many, I was young, naive, and angry that I was even being detained. I was outraged that these strangers were descending on me like a pack of wolves. I was scared, confused, and defiant, and young.

    I had never in my life met anybody who didn’t respect my right to say no at this point, and I guess I’d never play it that way again now that I know what I’m dealing with.

    Evil, is a controversy, as I said in an earlier comment. I know completely well these people don’t believe they are raping strangers’ brains. It doesn’t matter what they believe, it matters what they DO. Actions speak louder than words, and actions speak louder than intentions.

    The holocaust, of which people labeled mental patients were a part, was not perpetrated by people just trying to be evil. It was perpetrated by people who were willing to dehumanize strangers, in the name of their beliefs.

    This is what forced psychiatry staff do. They dehumanize you. Irrespective of anyone’s impression of them, or the logical understanding that they don’t intend to be evil, they ARE committing evil acts. Hate the sin love the sinner, all that.

    “I’m beginning to wonder and really ask myself – why am I here on a “psychiatric” website?  Hmm.  Is it that I just can’t escape?  And because they robbed me of two decades of my life?”
    I don’t know. Why is the internet full of child molestation survivor websites, rape survivor websites. The traumatized need to feel they have others who understand the horror.

    We are members of a minority group for whom society doesn’t even validate that we’ve been violated, so while victims of human rights crimes that get validated, might be able to walk away, a man freed by the “innocence project”, imprisoned for 20 years gets 4 million dollars in compensation from the state for being imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit, for example, may feel less of a need to commiserate with others, we, the lowly labeled, have sites like this.

    Make no mistake, no mistake at all, I’m dead serious, before the internet, and still, many people kill themselves out of the despair caused by psychiatry ripping their life and dignity apart. There are many people out there who feel hopelessly confused and alone, and know intuitively they’ve been deeply, deeply wronged, and destroyed, and end it all.

    A community like this, a place to come together, can and does save lives, believe me.

    Somewhere today, a person brutalized and psychiatrized, will die “by their own hand”. And the tragedy is, society will never even think to look at the OTHER PEOPLE’S HANDS that were laid on that person before that person laid a hand on him or herself.

    It is the gloved hand of brain rape in that photo up there, that starts the butterfly effect toward the suicide grave for so many.



    Inactive[email protected]/7908784892/

    This is the gloved hand of brain rape.

    It is a chilling picture for survivors of forced drugging.

    I keep it, and look at it often, in the hope that if I do, eventually it will lose its power.

    The blackness of the background, the white coat, the clinical blue latex glove, the weapon/delivery device, the droplet of drug, it is searingly evocative and terrible, brutal.

    The realization of the fact that the brain rapists “glove up”

    The glove, represents the distance between the paid government employee of forced psychiatry, and how he wants his inviolable skin to be protected by the glove, while he spits on, and holds in complete dehumanizing contempt, the human right of the other, the supposedly inalienable rights, the inviolable skin and body of the person he is about to shoot up with psychiatric drugs.

    The sheer power imbalance, the hubris hiding behind a medicalized ritual of putting on a glove, that in any other context would just be normal hospital hygiene, but in this context represents the self-centered, self-serving, supercilious concern for his own health and safety, while he is about to condemn the unconsenting other to a lifetime of long term organ destroying, health decimating, toxic psychiatric drugging.

    The sheer immoral filth, of stripping the stranger naked, forcibly removing their pants, and exposing their naked buttock while they are held face down screaming in terror, but the perpetrator looks out for his own health by wearing gloves. He doesn’t want to get an “infectious disease” from the corralled and dehumanized other whose body he presumes a right to enter by force, whose buttock he treats like a slab of “intramuscular” meat to be impregnated and penetrated with a blob of oozing psychiatric tranquilizer drug.

    It is sick, dark, black, evil, forced psychiatry art. This is my “favorite” photo for evoking the horror of forced psychiatry. It speaks to me on a level of heart-stopping horror like no other photo I’ve ever laid eyes on.

    It is gruesome in its truth. It is the hand of a human rights abuser. The same hand that drives his car to work, the same hand that caresses and loves his wife, his children, yet is capable of such brutality. The bones of the hand, the skeleton of man, represents irrepressible and inescapable power to me. Power and brutality from which there is no escape. The same hand which signs the commitment papers.

    No animal is more terrifying than a human. A man’s hand, given complete legal power to enter your body, and rape your brain, is an image that captures the essence of the brutality of forced psychiatry.

    There are many scary animals in this world, wild animals, lions, tigers and bears, but if you’ve ever sat in a crowded stadium and heard the roar of a crowd at a sports game, you’ll now, there is something uniquely irrepressible about human power, and action.

    This man’s hand, is not just his own hand, but the hand of all of society that believes it is perfectly fine for the person defined as “mental patient” to lose his or her right to own their body. This is the hand that acts, on society’s behalf, to penetrate, violate and perpetrate. This is the hand that lays still in the bed while the owner is sleeping soundly at night, not losing a wink of sleep over what he has done that day.

    To those who’ve had the privilege of owning their own bodies and making their own choices all their life, you might not understand the evocative significance of this image, and the horrific trauma it encapsulates, the meaning it is loaded with, for the forced drugging survivors among us.

    There is blood, on these hands.





    I forgot to mention the way the two knuckles stick out, evocatively shaded with the lighting of the gloved hand. The knuckles are the iron fist, the glove, the velvet glove.


    “I had never in my life met anybody who didn’t respect my right to say no at this point”.

    I can very much relate to the above. What I found truly incomprehensible is that they seemed totally incapable of grasping that people get severely distressed when they find themselves in a situation where they are not allowed freedom, when their lives are in the hands of others. It was like they honestly didn’t understand why people wouldn’t just passively accept everything that they said. Any question, or any thoughts which didn’t completely coincide with their view was just not tolerated.

    As a result, my family could do nothing (they deigned to disagree with the Doctors) therefore, I couldn’t be let out under their care.

    “I’m beginning to wonder and really ask myself – why am I here on a “psychiatric” website?  Hmm.  Is it that I just can’t escape?”

    I’m here because I take comfort from the feeling that I am not alone in feeling traumatized by my experience (though granted from the sounds of things, my experience was less violent and disgraceful than many others here). I find that I cannot talk to my friends or family about what happened, as they understandably have no idea of what it’s like to experience that level of disempowerment and terror.

    If it were not for books like MIA or Anatomy, or the Emperor’s new drugs, I would feel totally isolated and probably be at home, alone, totally questioning my own sanity.

    I do find it sad that I cannot talk to my close friends about what happened. Despite them being educated, well-read people, they simply do not know that the “bio” mantra of Psychiatry doesn’t seem to have a leg to stand on, and when I express doubts, they look at you as if you’re some sort of conspiracy theorist. That is very disheartening.

    Here, among you lot, I feel that I have some sort of virtual “friends”/fellows who share my situation with me, and for that, even though I don’t “know” any of you, I am extremely grateful.

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