Sunday, 14 February 2016

A Messed Up Story

I have accidentally deleted this post. Perhaps the universe doesn't want me to tell my story. Hopefully, I will be able to find a copy somewhere and repost it. Or see if it is possible to write it again at some later time. I hope a few people out there read what I wrote before it vanished.

The gist of it was this... Bad record keeping is endemic within the Mental Health System. It seems like a small thing but it can be a very significant thing indeed. If someone such as me who is committed to the search for truth is the victim of lies it can drive him (or her) mad. I know it sounds like a familiar complaint - people diagnosed schizophrenic often say they have been 'misdiagnosed' or mistreated and people assume that they are unreliable. But it does frequently occur. As a result no only people be made 'unwell' but it can also lead to such things as hospitalization on false grounds or in forcing people to take medication who have actually recovered.

I know this complaint may make me sound mad. Because I have somehow deleted the previous post, I can only make vague claims without being able to back them up. Sometimes I feel I am fighting a war not only against the Mental Health System but against the entire world. When I was genuinely very ill in 2009 and the beginning of 2010, I was imaginary friends with Jon Stewart. I used to have whole conversations with him in my my head. I remember his final episode last year. His last speech to camera was about "bullshit". He was talking about written records: was talking about reports that were full of falsehoods, about how people talk bullshit all the time. About how people lie all the time. I can't remember precisely his final harangue to camera but it is worth searching for on the net.

I find the fact that I have deleted my last post profoundly depressing. It makes me feel that the truth about my situation and others who have been or are in the situation I was in and am still in is something people don't want to know, or aren't allowed to know - as though fate or God is against us. I don't know if I will be able to rewrite what I wrote the day before yesterday. I don't know if I will ever be able to tell my own story. Life can be very cruel and the victims of crimes are often just footnotes in history.

Perhaps I will go back to writing about narrative theory. We'll see what happens.

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