Inspired by Tyler Perry to open up

Growing up I had social anxiety disorder (hard to believe right?) I was abused by a number of people from ages 2-18 and I'll leave it there for now. From emotional to psychological and physical. Well, a family member would throw garbage cases at me and throw me on my bed by my wrists. Sometimes several times at once. If I didn't feel well (from stress or pain) and didn't go to school, I would get beat. Several times my mom would save me by holding him back. She'd say "run!" I would. Run for my life. Our nanny is now dead and that's what happens when you burn people (sorry karma got in the way). I don't remember the rest.

I saw my first psychiatrist at 12. I don't remember much from then. I remember my next one at 16. He tried to get me off
of the drugs the first fake psychiatrist put me on. I was overmedicated. This meant: adding drugs to take away the pain
of withdrawal while coming off a drug, having to cope with withdrawals on my own. Withdrawals are painful and sickening
side effects are unreal. I was in bed for a while. We couldn't figure out what to do when I kept getting ill. I was
talking to God so I decided to let him take over. My psychiatrist would put me on more. I remember being in my doctors
office and seeing a prozac rep sitting across from me (anti depressant pushers or Eli Lilly employees who only care
about money). I was sitting face to face with a murderer. She was wearing prada shoes and nice clothes. I wanted to slit
her throat but of course, that can send you to jail. You know, where she should be. So I just stared at her, as evil
as I could look. She had free samples of prozac, tissue boxes with Zoloft written all over them and pens promoting Paxil.
I stared her down. She looked up a couple of times and I could tell I was making her feel uneasy which was my goal. When
she dropped off her "poison" and walked to the door she looked at me. I stared at her and just "smiled". The guy next to me
in the lobby laughed at her. I could tell he was being entertained. That's cool.

I could tell my psychiatrist only wanted money. So at 16, I made his life a living hell. I would threaten him. I
remember asking him which car was his. He said "I'm not telling you that. I can't and I know what your intentions are."
I laughed. He was like my toy for maybe a month or two. When I saw that I had put him through hell and he still chose
to see me he began earning my respect. Especially when he lectured me about disrespecting him. I thought 'wow, he stands
to up for himself. He is human' I began to open up. I trusted him.

I also had a cutting problem at this time. A girl at my school taught me about it. She had been doing it so I tried. It
distracted me from mental pain, from school, from everything. It got out of control though. I accidentally cut too deep
once and freaked out. I ran to mom and she called my psychiatrist. I described it and he told me what to do and he
said I should be ok but he'd look at it next appointment. Good thing he's M.D. certafied too. I cleaned it, bandanged it
and went to sleep. The next day I logged on to my livejournal. I got a disturbing message from a friend. She said:
"I thought you would want to know this because it's not right. You need to tell your parents..." she gave me a link.
I clicked on it and my sister's livejournal page came up. She had written a page about me telling her friends what I did
and calling me crazy or insane. I read it all and broke down crying. I had a panic attack because everyone at school had
seen it. Dad came home and I ran to him crying and showed him the page. He yelled at my sister and made her take it down.
That was nice but you can't erase what people already know. I got a lot of shit at school about it.

One of my withdrawals was so bad, I was encouraged to take Benadryl to help with the side effects. It was Effexor and
I thought I was dying. So many things were happening to me, so many side effects that were terrifying. I was blessed
with family and friends encouraging me to be positive and bringing me movies and whatnot. When it was over I was so
happy I cried. I wanted to remember it, that I got through it. I called *Ryan and told him I made it. I first met him
when I was 17. He was a piercer and a training tattoo artist at the time. I love that place, I've always loved it
and the location downtown. The houses are beautiful, it's so much more artistic. I loved walking through the park
and museums. I told Ryan I was coming over with my mom because it was so important to me. I'm so comfortable there
because everyone is like an artist and I can tell them anything and they'd understand.

The shop had been redone and when I walked in I just went "wow, you guys did an amazing job". There were blue lights,
amazing art work and they even made jewelery and t shirts. Even the jewelery case looked awesome. I noticed everything.
The colors in the rooms. I always loved how each artist's room matches their personality. I told Ryan after all I've
been through, I wanted "Hope" tattooed on my wrist, right above the star he did a few months back. The star was my first
tattoo and I loved it. I let him pick the cursive font and we went back. My mom too, of course. People have called me
hardcore but it sounded cooler when he did. We were talking as I was getting the tattoo. My mom went "doesn't that hurt?"
I laughed and went "nah". I have a high pain tolerance. I loved it (still do) got a lot of compliments on it (still do).

I read Criss Angel's book Mindfreak: Secret Revelations. He wrote "I chose Believe because Believe is such a strong word."
then "When the mind, body, and spirit work together I believe anything is possible". Believe just kept popping up in my
life. If you believe hard enough, it will happen. Lie is in Believe. Stuff like that. That's tattood on my shoulder. I
believe tattoos show who you are and/or what you've been through. I think they're beautiful and kind of tell a story.

I was (am) depended on dyphenhydramine. It started out as Benadryl my psychiatrist recommended for sleep. For some reason,
my brain didn't take it that way it became an addiction. I began buying Benadryl, then I saw how much money I was
spending to get my fix so I started buying store brand because it was much cheaper. It numbed me
from the pain I was feeling before. Before I could cope with the pain, now I've forgotten how. Antihistamines made me
feel good and happy for about half an hour. I know half an hour isn't much to users but to me it was all I needed. all
the pain i felt from the world and all the pressure I got from my family or from me beating myself up, would go away.
It was like getting a break from it. I didn't have to try and be someone, I could think clearer and my writing improved.
I could multi task while using. The high was so relieving I wouldn't even care about the crashing. The illness, dehydration,
temporary amnesia seemed like nothing. Sometimes it would get so bad I would cry and say that I would never take it again.
The next day, I would forget and think 'it won't be so bad this time'.

I began taking a few, then I'd be immune to that amount and have to increase it until it worked. When Heath Ledger died
from overdose I had only been taking a couple. I didn't think that could happen to me. Months later, it grew worse. I
thought "I might end up like him." When I saw DJ AM overdose, I thought the same thing. When I saw Michael overdose,
I accepted death. I was so traumatized I just thought 'screw it, whatever happens happens". I don't want to die but at
the same time I was aware at what I was facing. This Is It really screwed me over. I got mom tickets because I wanted
to make it up to her. I said I'd go with her and at the time I meant it. It was ok, I got over it. Then, while watching
TV the trailer came on. I fell to the floor sobbing I felt so guilty. I contacted a friend and she said "your health
comes first." No, I didn't believe that. When it comes to loved ones, when I make a promise I intend to keep it no
matter what. I was thinking what I could do to get through it. I thought "I'll just drug myself and won't even see it"
I've only been drugged in public once or twice and it was horrible. I knew this wouldn't be pleasant but I'd do it if
necessary. I'd do anything for mom and anything for Michael. Anything.

I had a few scares. I would get sick, stomach pains, nights where I was so dehydrated I drank six bottles of water. I
would pass out, see things and hear things that weren't there. A few people knew about this. I asked my psychiatrist
for help, I poured my heart out to him and he said he couldn't help me because I was seeing another psychiatrist. He
said I was his patient now. I hated the other psychiatrist and I was so disappointed and upset since he didn't even try
to help me, I cried for a week. I told my new psychiartist also. He said "uhh...try to wean yourself off". The next
week, he didn't even remember what I told him or went through. I asked mom to tell her psychiatrist. He's the best
there is so I had hope he'd know something. He said the same thing "wean off of it". No one knows how hard that is. It's
called an addiction for a reason. I told dad but he just yelled at me about his problems. I felt horrible. I ran to my
room and took five pills to calm myself down.

I began overdosing, not to kill myself but to make myself very sick or induce a coma. That way, maybe someone would take
me seriously. God knows, of course. I prayed lots of times for help but nothing came. I didn't tell anyone else, I shut
up fast because I was afraid I'd be sent back to that abusive prison. I let myself go. I'm not even sure how many
cavities I have because I don't want to be lectured by the dentist. I had goals and dreams but I pushed them aside
because I didn't think I'd live to 25. The drugs began using me. I saw how many rehabs Nic Sheff was in, how he was well
then crashed. That scared me (the rehab part) so I pretended I was ok.

I watched House tonight. I was drawn to Chase. He was so depressed. You could see the sadness in his eyes and his
behavior. He went to church to confess that he killed a man and the preist said "Ten Hail Marys can't get you out of this.
You need to face it. You need to confess." I know it's the same for me. It's the only way I can be free of all this
weight crushing me. I'm not sure I'm ready. So far, no one has been supportive or wanted to help me. I'm not even sure
if I'm ready. I can't tell my parents because they'd freak out and blame me for stressing them out. I can only tell God
I have no one else. Sometimes, I think it would be easier to just not wake up. Then I think about Marigold and mom.
I can't leave them. It may not be coke, heroin, speed, or demoral but it can slowly kill me.

I broke down "Morphine" to my level of understanding.

I hate careless doctors because this is what they say to you:
"Trust in me, Just in me, Put all your trust in me."
Relax, This won't hurt you. Before I put it in, close your eyes and count to ten. Don't cry I won't convert you.
There's no need to dismay, Close your eyes and drift away."

Demerol, Demerol, Oh God he's taking Demerol.

"He's tried Hard to convince her To be over what he had. Today he wants it twice as bad. Don't cry I won't resent you.
Yesterday you had his trust, today he's taking twice as much."

My secret:
No one knows what happens behind closed doors. You could be yelled at, lectured, fighting, lying, hurting. When you
come back, it seems like everything's ok. You hide that secret so no one would be upset. You've been brainwashed. I've
been brain washed. All I am is a guinea pig doing drug trials. More than anything I want my life back but I don't
remember what that's like. Did I have a life before?
I fought this back because I was taught pills were the answer. If I asked for it, I got it. Isn't your psychiatrist
supposed to help you? He's caused so much anxiety and stress that all psychiatrists scare me to the point of illness.
The night before I have to see one, I drug myself. I can't handle the panic. My heart feels weak and I have collapsed
before.

He quit monitering me even though I'm on Lithium which is dangerous. If not monitered enough Lithium can destroy someone's
liver. Lamyctal was given to me the first day I met the second psychiatrist. He didn't moniter me or check my health
first. A month later, I got the Lamyctal rash whitch can be fatal. No one ever took me seriously so all I could do was
pray and hope for the best. I should be dead by now but God wants me here, I guess. I hate explaining myself I hate
no one believing me, I hate having no support or encouragement, I hate not being normal, I hate psychiatrists because
they made me hate myself. Since he didn't believe me I had to stop the Lamyctal by myself. The next day the rash went
away and I told mom so I started tapering off of it. Now, I have trouble breathing deeply without coughing.
I've had enough.



2AM

I've started a movement. An American Anti psychiatry movement. We won't take this shit anymore. I'm not alone at all, so many people
suffer from psychiatric drugs. I'm loving the shorts people made as well as the Vlogs, and honesty. Obama hurry up and save
us! Parents are speaking out about their kids suicides due to psychiatric drugs backfiring. Ritalin is the number one
killer for kids. Eric and Dylan (Columbine) are not killers, he was a victim of psychiatric drugs.
Chances are, they were brainwashed. They had good grades, they were good kids up until the prescriptions.

I'm gonna answer some questions I've been avoiding for a reason:

Do you work for Michael Moore?
In a way. I promote him. Ever since he did "Sicko" I told him if he ever needed anything to contact me.

How do you know all of this?
I do research. What I've learned has led me to toxicology reports, people's stories and whatever God leads me to.

Do you know how many people Eric and Dylan killed?
Yes I do. I also know that the medications they were on, can backfire especially if they had a very careless psychiatrist.
Those type of drugs can brainwash a person and make them homicidal or violent.

Disturbing Facts: America is the only country this bad. America is the only country that cheats people out of health care
and insurance. Obama is working on that and I'm waiting. Psychiatrists and drug companies don't want you to know this.
They don't care about you. They care about money that's all. Tons of peope die every year from these. Others end up
with brain damage, seizures, withdrawal illness, the feeling of being poisoned.

what to say to your psychiatrist (Dr. Matthews had an "initiation" so he will too) Dr. Van Dyke is a "Christian"
psychiatrist. These apply to either or.


"The Truth, I do my research do you? Do you know you're hurting people while you make money?"

"I'm being stalked by idiot claiming to be a psychiatrist!!! He says his name is Dr. _____ ...oh wait...I am"

"I cannot say anything unless my lawyer is present" *silence*

"Did you know you have 666 on your forehead? OMG"

"If you believe in the teachings of the Bible and Christ why do you charge us $140?? Does Jesus charge?"

after the full session: "...................huh? oh..you were talking to me?"

"Did Jesus make Prozac?"

"I looked through the Bible and didn't see anything about Lithium. I even looked at Paul and JOb. No Lamyctal!"

"Smile..you're on candid camera" need a hidden camera for this...and a youtube channel

"Am I normal yet?"

"I had a guinea pig once. Have you ever had a guinea pig? Oh duh!! That would be me."

sad but true with mine: "you know wayyyyyyy to much about Michael Jackson's meds, Dr. Conrad" *walk out..or moonwalk out
or sing "Morphine" or "Beat It"* (my ringtone is set to "Beat It" call me!)

"Jesus take the wheeeeeeeel take it from his hands...."

"you sound gay...it's ok to come out of the closet ya know" *he does...*




I know this life is crazy and unpredictable. I also know that ever since the trauma in the ward, I'll never really be able to "grow up". I also know that I need to start where MJ left off. Show peace, faith and love. I can't do this if no one will trust me and give all of their fears and doubts to the Lord. I'm not afraid of God, I'm afraid of man. I'm emotionally and mentally abused. I'm pushed around and pressured. I can't do my job if this continues. Dr. Van Dyke doesn't let me talk, I feel stupid. I hate him.

When I was being cursed at and screamed at yesterday, when mom would not leave my room and stared me down. She was yelling "YOU'RE THE REASON I HAD HEART PALPITATIONS YOU WANNA DO THAT AGAIN??" I WAS SOBBING AND SAID "PLEASE STOP PLEASE!" SHE WENT ON "GET READY OR GO LIKE THAT AND GET IT IN THE DAMN CAR!!!" I SAID "PLEASE PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE" SHE SLAMMED MY DOOR AND YELLED "NO!" SHE LOOKED LIKE SATAN. SHE WAS SATAN I KNEW HE WAS THERE. HE LOVED MY PAIN. HE ADDED FUEL TO THE FIRE. I SAID "PLEASE LET ME MAKE A PHONE CALL" SHE SCREAMED "I'M STAYING HERE UNTIL YOU GET IN THE DAMN CAR" I CALLED DAD SOBBING HE SAID HE WOULD TALK TO HER. SHE CAME BACK SCREAMING EVEN MORE. I WAS SO EXHAUSTED FROM FIGHTING I FELL ONTO MY BED. I FELT SO ALONE. I SWEAR I SAW SATAN IN HER EYES. I SAID "DIDN'T DAD TALK TO YOU" SHE SAID "YEAH, HE SAID YOU WERE TRYING TO GET OUT OF IT!!!" I WAS SO SICK I VOMITED. SHE STOOD THERE STARING ME DOWN. I BEGGED AND BEGGED FOR GOD TO JUST TAKE ME. I EVEN BEGGED FOR MICHAEL. I BEGGED TO ANYONE THAT HAS COME INTO MY LIFE. I GRABBED MY PHONE AGAIN AND DIALED 911. BEFORE THEY PICKED UP MY ANGEL CAME AND SAVED ME. During this, my first thought was "if I grab the closest object now, I can end this." I felt like a prisoner I Felt helpless and hopeless. I began crying out to God soo hard I think all of Heaven heard me. My angel came (I felt someone tap me) and said "it'll be ok, just stop fighting. They can't hurt you, they're foolish. God is disappointed in them". That's when I dropped everything. I got up off the floor and said "ok...." my stomach hurt from the panic attack. I was so tired.
I told Dr. Van Dyke that she's retarded from the ECT. I think he could tell something was wrong. I did pull a Michael Jackson and show up in sweat pants and a hoodie. I put my hair up really sloppy. My makeup was running I forgot to wipe it off. He said "everything ok?" I told him I was just sick. I should have told him the truth. But I was saving that for Dr. Bergwyn.

I'm very very blessed and thankful to God, and Christ for saving me. I had no one and they reminded me that I did. From what I've learned in my experiences is that if you pull something like this you will be punished. I've never gone that far so I don't know what God's plan is. When I gave in and didn't take my own life, God won and satan lost