Biological Healing
I briefly toyed with the idea of suing the Quebec Government for mind control in the psych system, but then I checked out their health laws and found out they wrote a new one since my hospitalization where if they get sued or taken to court they can open up someone’s ENTIRE medical record to public scrutiny, and give someone’s medical record to employers, and give it to people in the event of the patient becoming incapacitated mentally, it’s really creepy and it got written in under a more neutral case. And I know weird shit is written in mine, so I’m not terribly interested in giving them that power. On the other hand, I’m perfectly happy to continue describing my experience in the Montreal psych ward through this blog.
One thing which does kind of bum me out is that sometimes I worry no one has been paying any attention to this blog, but I think that’s just some weird program I have. I tried to get as many people to pay attention to me when I was disintegrating because I knew I needed people to carefully watch what happened to me. But sometimes I’m worried people just kind of wandered off in disgust along the way, and a lot of people did. I remember afterwards my dad was just like “Thirza! You have to pick your friends better!” And it was so cute because it was like the understatement of the year. At this point I’m pretty cognizant of people who might try to influence me back towards that kind of programming, but I think I’m starting to regain mastery over myself. I don’t want to state that completely though, because I don’t know if I’ll have flashbacks from heavy neuroleptics.
I’m healing my brain as well as I can though. I’m taking Natrum Sulphuricum for head injury as prescribed by my homeopath, along with 3 capsules of Omega 3 6 9, iron, vitamins, and kelp just because it’s recommended for people in awakenings. And some other stuff, but those are the ones directly related to my brain. In fact, the entire depression thing could be explained just by my low iron levels, because my iron was REALLY low. And my Gramma had to take iron pills her whole life too. I’m interested in this idea of biomagnetism, because the theory is that you can replace damaged brain tissue with magnetite crystals. And that’s not doing creepy brain surgery, it’s just figuring out a way to consciously spark the natural formation of those crystals, how that’s done I’m not sure. But it does make Buddha’s Diamond Mind thing sound like he was talking about more than a metaphor. So for now I’m looking at Buddha again and his concept of cultivating a diamond mind. Magnetite has some funny characteristics in crystal work, but I’m not really doing it to get that, just to repair what’s been taken. But I’m aware it might have other implications.
I am going to keep making movies though, and I think I’m more interested in doing “fictional” work to talk about history and issues. The funny thing is the entire time I was in the hospital I kept telling them “I’m making a movie” and what I meant is that I was observing so that I could write a screenplay about it later. I think it just seemed like a bizarre rambling though, which is good. I mean, they genuinely thought that me being a filmmaker was a delusion, until my friends said it was true. And the first psychiatrist was convinced I spoke French, for who knows what reason. I didn’t. And there are various mistakes altogether, including the fact that Montreal psych ward survivors recognize each other and talk about it because it is so overt.
But fucking hell, it’s been so frustrating trying to tell people around me that I was ritually abused in the psych ward, because of programming. I don’t know what would happen to me if I hadn’t studied mind control long before I ended up there. And when I say I studied mind control, fuck, I spent two years off and on reading all about it. I’m trying to figure out how to intelligently disarm the programming in the people around me who keep trying to keep me involved with psychiatry. Telling my mom about the hate-your-mother programming changed something in her, but I don’t know if she knows about how the other programs work. I can’t really tell people “Hey! Pay attention to this!” because then it looks like I’m “manic.” So I’m just hoping people eventually start listening to me, but it’s going to take a while. I only did my healing turn around this weekend. And I know people might try to intimidate me through the threat of psychiatric force again, so that will be interesting. But I do have reams of evidence to confront them with, or the appropriate questions to get them to reveal their thinking around it, which is probably the better tactic.
It frustrates me though that I bothered to spend time around R.A. survivors, because they did put their shit on me and that sucks. I think I’m developing boundaries though, especially since every time I make friends with an R.A. survivor I set them off at some point and I know it. I don’t want to hurt them, but clearly there is something about me that hurts them, and I don’t want to change myself just so they feel at ease. It’s time to let some of those people go. And I have, the seriously programmed people are for the most part out of my life. And it’s getting easier, to trust that even though R.A. survivors seem to be everywhere, there are people who never went through it. I think sometimes if you attract that kind of energy, it seems like EVERYONE is an R.A. survivor, it just blocks out reality through a generalized feeling. Mostly though, if someone starts putting their issues on me I’m not going to take it on anymore, it confuses me.
I also wonder, why is it so many people don’t remember stuff they say? I have this bizarrely good memory (when not drugged) and I can somehow quote people verbatim once in a while. But even if someone says something really mean, they don’t remember it. I guess it’s selective memory. But it used to fuck me over all the time.
Anyway, even if the drugs did make me feel better (which they didn’t) I was going to die from them one way or another. I just couldn’t handle those neurotoxins in my system anymore.