Here is a look at a few pages of a book I plan to write. The book is called, It was not funny at the time.
The Truth can set you Free
The first time saw a Psychiatrist, I was 8 years old. My parents were going through a very messy divorce. My Father wanted custody of my 2 brothers and I. This was very hard on me; it did not fit into my reality of what a family was. Divorce was a new thing back then in 1973, we were the first in our neighborhood. The “shrink” asked me who I wanted to live with. It was right then I realized that there was something very wrong with Psychiatrists. What kind of person would ask an 8 year old girl to pick between her parents? I loved both of them the same, the way I now love both of my Daughters the same.
I am 13 years old and my Father tells me we have an appointment with a Psychiatrist in Downtown Chicago. I have a few problems, but what 13 year old does not? I watched my Father mentally destroy my mother. He then used her mental instability against her to take away the only thing that mattered in her life…her children. He then married his mistress of 7 years (also his secretary). I was not exactly thrilled to be living with the woman who helped to destroy my happy home. Not to mention the fact that she was an adulterous. I wished her dead several times a day and even prayed to G-D at night to take this wicked woman away. Eventually I got to know her and she was very kind and loving to me. I liked her. She would never be my Mom, but she was my friend for sure.
While on Vacation in Mexico with my Father she became very sick. She assumed this was her pregnancy. However it was not. She was not only carrying my half-brother in her womb, she was carrying a tumor the size of a large orange in her brain. My Father truly loved this woman and did everything he could to save her life. In the end he brought her home to die. It was a terrible sight to see. She was in a vegetative state. You could see where the Doctors had cut a huge hole in her skull. There was nothing left of her, just a body waiting to die. It was a constant reminder of how I had prayed to G-D to take her life and how I had wished her dead. Of course I do not have that power, but at the time I felt a lot of guilt. I was sent to summer-camp knowing I would never see her again. On July 1st I awoke around 6:00 a.m. and demanded to call immediately I knew she woke me up on the way out, I could not explain it but I knew. The counselors at the camp assured me that if something had happened my Father would have called. Two days later my Father called to say she had died (at the time and date I woke up). I later found out that when my Father went to his safety deposit box all the watches in there were stopped at the exact time of her death. I guess you could say I was a little twisted from this trauma. My Father a member of the Jewish Priesthood most high has never set foot in a synagouge since. One day, I went to this appointment at Northwest Memorial Hospital and met Dr. Derrick Miller a shrink from England, only I was not allowed to leave. This was my new home an Adolescent Treatment Program. It was a locked unit for teens with a system based on reward and punishment with a level system. The higher the level the more privileges you earned. There were day patients there to teach me all about street drugs and crime. One day we stole the unit key and escaped into downtown Chicago where I got so drunk I passed out in the stairwell of some high-rise.
I would be released and re-admitted to the same unit one more time. The day patients would bring in drugs, we were allowed to smoke cigarettes it was not so bad. I liked my shrink, because he said my Father was the one with a problem.
My next Adolescent Treatment program was at Chicago Lakeshore Hospital. Same basic program of behavior modification, only this time they added medication. I did not like medication. My “shrink” was Dr. Luinbuk, a wealthy Psychiatrist from Israel who wore alligator shoes. He told me that manipulation was a positive thing. All I had to do was be Daddy’s little Jewish Princess and the world would be mine. For my Birthday I was given a “Dental Pass”. My Father and new Step-Monster took me and a friend to see The Rolling Stones. We were seated separately. My friend brought all kinds of goodies. I was returned to the Hospital “tripping” and put in solitary confinement. Many years later I was told by another Psychiatrist that the combination of medications I was on at that Hospital were not approved for people under 18 and the combination could have killed me. In both Hospitals there was this rumor/threat that if we did not succeed we might end up at a horrible place called Élan. “The last resort”.
In 1981 that is exactly where my Father wanted to put me. We went in front of the School board for some type of meeting. The School would not pay for my placement there and furthermore stated that I that I did not need to be in Élan. I could go to Public school. My Father said “fine then I will pay for it myself” My first day at Élan I was escorted to a bathroom, made to strip in front of two strangers and take a Quell shower. I was told I would be a resident of House #3. There were many Houses in Poland Spring, Maine. #3, #5, #7, #8 and Administration #1. There was also a house in Waterford, Maine #6 and two houses in Parsonsfield, Maine #2 and #4. Élan #3 was “the big House.” The first thing I noticed was all the costumes. These were called Learning Experiences or L.E.; they were made from mostly cardboard and came from the communications Dept. Dunce caps Cigarette hats. Nuclear Reactor Boxes, Whore and Pimp costumes the list goes on. Whatever the “issue” was there was a L.E. to go with it. With every L.E. there was a sign sometimes you only got a sign. These would always start out “Please confront me as to why……..” It was not unusual to see someone with 15 signs. One night at school a kid walked into class from another house wearing a huge penis on his head with a sign in it that said “ Please confront me as to why I think with one head and not the other” I had to hide behind my book to not laugh. If you laughed at someone’s L.E. you got the same one. There were boxing rings to beat you into submission, Haircuts where 3 people yelled at you over trivial stuff. General Meetings where hundreds of your peers were whipped into frenzy in the dining room before you arrived and when you did then would all rush at you to yell an spit in your face. Then the Director would emotionally lambaste you for hours. At the end you were given a L.E. and “Shotdown” made to scrub floors and toilets all day. Then there was the Corner for those who would not “get with the program”. It was meant to be used for a couple of hours, because it was unbearable. You could not talk or read or listen to music or anything and some other poor kid had to supervise you the whole time. I stayed in the corner for 5 months. I refused to abuse my peers. I was not going to humiliate others. For this I was severely abused, but I did not care. I gave it right back. I was not going to join a cult. In a last effort to get me to conform, my Father flew up and told me that I was going to be there until the bulldozers came. Three weeks later he returned to pick me up; I had done the impossible I had been kicked out of Élan in eight months. My Father and Stepmonster tried to drop me of in Mass. It was a school for mostly mentally handicap Teens. I told them I would raise hell and they would not take me. Unwillingly me Father had no choice but to take me home. I took the G.E.D. and tried to go to Columbia Collage. There was something wrong with me at this point, socially although I could not put my finger on it. To cope while in the corner I would use different techniques that I had read about. I was not allowed to close my eyes so I would stare at the vertex until everything went black. Each time it was easier. I would at first astral travel. After the meeting with my Father I decided to try “Creative Visualization”. I had read a small book by the same name before entering Élan and it was the perfect time to try it out. I imagined the same scenario over and over again. When it actually happened I was sure I was still in the corner visualizing it. Only after the visualization went past the point of my creation did I know that it had worked. I think I was in shock.
To really understand the POLITICS of the Teen Help Industry: Like anything else… Follow the Money Trail http://fornits.com/anonanon/
My friend Aaron Seymour founded the Youth Liberation Foundation to help kids that are caught in the Troubled Teen Industry
Here are some more helpful links for our Teens in the Mental Health System:
For many years I did not have a relationship with my Father and Stepmonster. One day in 1998 I was given the opportunity for my Children and I to get away from my abusive Husband and move to rural Wisconsin. Choosing what I felt was the lesser of two evils I took the bait. There was one condition I had to see a Psychiatrist. This should have been a big red flag for me, but it was not. My Children were enrolled in School and were doing well. I had a job at Lands’ End main headquarters. It was located 3 blocks for where I lived in Dodgeville, WI. On the weekends I would have brunch with my Father an Stepmonster who never failed to condescend. I put up with it for monetary benefit. On August 16th 2000 a Social Services worker showed up at my door and requested to see my oldest Daughter. She was sleeping at a friend’s house. I told her this. Within minutes my house was surrounded by The Dodgeville Police Department, The Iowa County Sheriffs and Unmarked vehicles, I agreed to let a Dodgeville Police Officer search my house, he confirmed my Daughter was not there. My Daughter then called on the phone I told her what was going on. She agreed to speak with Social Services. To make a long story short, both of my Daughters were taken from me that day. At the request of my Stepmonster. They were put into Foster care, where one remains today. They were 8 & 12 at the time. I was sent to a Mental Hospital the very same day, for getting “Hysterical”. If you ask me, if you do not act a little “Hysterical” when someone comes and takes your Children away you really have a serious problem. For the next 2 years I was systematically harassed in an attempt to criminalize me. I think it might of worked accept for the fact that I pleaded NGI. I also opted for a bench trial for reasons that I will not make public at this time. If you take my kids away on the basis of my Mental Illness, please do not call me a criminal. When I found the actual paper in my case file at the court house that contained the evidence of my Stepmonsters report to Social Services I was Irate to say the least. It said I had been diagnosed with Mental Illness and she did not care what happened to me but she wanted my Children to be put in Foster Care. Before my Children were taken from me in 2000 I was seeing a Therapist and Psyciatrist of my own choice. I was on 2 Medications. I had a healthy and happy life. I had no criminal charges. We need to look at how this is seen for a reason for removal of Children from the home. I have never in my life experinced such stigma and open hatred for wanting to get some help in the MH industry. I also have to state that this event has been the most Traumatic thing I have and continue to experince in my life.
“You do not examine legislation in the light of the benefits it will convey if properly administered, but in the light of the wrongs it would do and the harms it would cause if improperly administered.”–Lyndon B. Johnson
“Of all tyrannies a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victim may be the most oppressive. It may be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busy- bodies.
The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated, but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.” — C. S. Lewis (1898-1963), British novelist
Permanent termination of parental rights has been described as “the family law equivalent of the death penalty in a criminal case.”
http://familyrightsassociation.com/index.htmlI was sent to the state Hospital and Diagnosed with 5 different things. I am now court ordered to take 6 different kinds of medication and 1 more because they make me physically Ill. I have a D.O.C. worker who gives me random urinalyses. I have a Conditional release worker. I have a Court appointed Psychiatrist and a court appointed Therapist. We must not forget the Social services worker either. I never had any freedom in America to begin with. I am not paranoid I have justified fear. Outpatient Commitment is Unconstitutional, but so is The Patriot Act. Without a lawyer, like many Americans find out you have no chance for justice. I have a good cases against the State of Wisconsin for both unjust removal of my Children and continued deniel of my Civil and Constitutional rights. As far as my “Conditional Release” I have a good case there too. I just can not afford a lawyer. If you look at the statistics, people most affected by this are the ones who cannot afford proper legal representation. Any lawyer out there willing to help? Here is a list of the Court ordered Medications I am forced to take:
Adderall 30mg. tab 3 times daily
Paxil 40mg. tab 2 times daily
Topomax 100mg. tab 1/2 tab in a.m. 2 tabs in p.m.
Ativan 1mg. tab 1-4 tablets daily as needed
Trazadone HCL 100mg. tab 2 at bedtime
Ambien 10mg. 1 at bedtime
Hyoscyamine sulfate 0.375mg.ter (gen.Equiv for Levbid) Take one Tablet by Mouth every twelve hours for Abdominal cramps & Diarrhea. (Because now I have Irritable bowl syndrom from the other six medications)
My first hand knowlage of Outpatient forced treatment is basic. You can not force someone to change. You can monitor them, provide services, overmedicate them (this applys to me) and check thier bodily fluids to make sure that G-d forbid they to not use any herbal medications of their own choosing. But real change comes from within. As an alternative to Prison it is of course the prefered route to go. You have to ask yourself, how far backward have we gone? Lets take a look at my Outpatient Commitment. After my release from WHMI I was given all of the above mentioned services with the threat that I could be re-hospitalized at any moment for not following my Conditional Release Plan. This could be initiated by any of the above mentioned people. This causes additional anxiety. Knowing what I know now. I would never seek help. My “confidential” MH files were used against me in court to take my Children. Knowing what my “issues” were: I was provoked and harrased daily.