Psychiatric Fiction



 Included on this page will be:

1.Crazy Sarah in Her Crazy World

A New Psy-Fi (Psychiatric Fiction) Series Based on One Woman's Delusional Experience of the Perfectly Normal Society in Which She Lives. It is a fabricated series about a fictional character who worked in a psychiatric hospital as a patient special and who was herself psychiatrized by those seeking to save the world.  This will be in pedantic detail to show the complex delusions suffered by many (like me) who actually believe our experience is reality based. 

2.. Sarah's Journal 
        An Unusual Perception of Reality as a first hand account  

3. Spirit Voices series: A channeling of the psychiatrized who have moved on to another dimension of Being.

 ...and a variety of other fascinating psychiatric fabrications.....
Spirit Voices: Lynn 05/01/2012

Originally posted May 28th 2010
Lynn 

I'm dead.
Well I am dead from your point of view anyway. From your point of view I have been dead a long time. Yet I speak from the One. If you didn't get forced into this place, this timelessness, this collective, either before or after your physical death, you won't know what I am talking about.  

It seems incomprehensible to those who have not had the experience and even to some who HAVE had it. It is incomprehensible to ALL of us at first. It is like being slam dunked into the infinite, a state beyond our capability as human beings...like being forced into total meaninglessness/meaningfulness without any guideposts of any kind. The fear is quite literally overwhelming.

I was alone in the endless expanse of all creation. No one helped me. No one heard me. No one saw me....I fell off the earth. I fell into the vastness of space. My isolation was complete.  

The called me crazy.
They thought it had nothing at all to do with them. They were wrong but they could never BE wrong you see. So instead, they heard all I said as symptoms of my insanity. They use their precedent settings and their training to do that. They had heard it all before you see...it goes back over time to our beginnings and planned confusions of the Spirit they called the Devil way back then. The one who told the original pair, “don't listen to God as He is trying to trick you! HE is jealous of YOU. He knows that if you stop listening to Him you will get his power and He does not want to share it.” 

It was all the same old Bait and Switch Con between the truth teller and the liar. Of course, the original pair of humans did not understand that then, and so that old snake in the grass of Eden caused them to doubt themselves and to doubt God. The game has continued over our human history  because of it, even though some of us know the truth.   

They said I was not 'like them.' But I was you see. I saw them too well...far too well and I would not play the game with them; so they had to call me crazy. Finally I GOT crazy and the smiled about it...SMILED, as if they were now satisfied.

At first it was all an outer experience. They distanced themselves from me. They seemed to need to do that. Then when I could not get near them to tell them what they were doing and how it was affecting me, the outer game became the inner game as well. It was like coping with the same experience on two levels at the same time and the inner one could not be stopped or silenced, not for one minute, day or night. It was even more exhausting then spending time every day putting up with the sanctimonious staff of the psychiatric hospital, excuse me 'health centre' acting out all day when they saw me in the streets.  

I remember all the little scenes they performed, for me often in little groups oblivious to their own stupidity and projecting it onto me. 

There was this one in my town who was a head case of her own, denied of course as they all do, who just loved to go down to the town square and 'observe' me sitting six feet away from her while she discussed me with groups of others. Often she felt moved to express her derogatory opinion of me to ex patients of the psych hospital as well, most of them from the addictions unit there, who were eager to get from her all the latest rumours out of the hospital with me as the topic. She was more than happy to accommodate them too.  I watched her doing it over and over again, always it seemed oblivious to my seeing her, or maybe she was just so smug and arrogant that she didn't care...I Remember two consecutive days when she and others like her put on a performance for me.

I was sitting in the town square one day waiting for a bus when Magpie Maggie was also sitting on a bench about 10 feet away from me. A group of addiction graduates was sitting with her. One of them spotted me and so felt compelled to let Maggie magpie know. She turned and looked at me. I looked back. Her expression remained self deluded as always. I knew she felt invisible to me. As was her habit she then began to talk about me as it I was not there.

She asked the others observing me like a specimen what I was doing. “She is just sitting there” one of them replied.

“What is the expression on her face?” she asked. Sort of nothing replied the objective observer with her. (I resisted the urge to say, Somewhat less stunned and deluded than your own dear...” but one cannot correct the ‘correctors’ without awareness that more 'help' may well be the result of doing so you know..so I only thought it when i was alive and suppressed the urge to say it out loud.”)

This was not enough of an assessment for Maggie so she then said, “I have to look for myself...” So she got up out of her seat which had been with her back to me, punctuated furtive glancing from the side of her head and switched seats with the woman who had been giving her the bulletins so she could observe me for herself. I looked at her. As always she did not see me seeing her. Maggie had been doing a running commentary with me as her topic for many years. She never could figure out that she was not hidden in plain sight.  Of course, I could never tell her either, or anyone else like her, as that might have upset THEM and it was always how everyone else felt that mattered. That is what they kept telling me...over and over they kept telling me.

As Maggie acted this out, a man who had been watching all this drama for many years sat right near her on his scooter. He looked at me and then at her. I looked at him and then at her. He shook his head like bloody amazing...He lived in the ‘disabled’ apartment building downtown and had hear it all too...over and over again.  

The next day, Maggie was seen doing her rounds in the downtown mall. A psychiatric hospital volunteer saw her and rushed over to give her a big hug. Maggie needed to be soothed as apparently someone at the hospital had said something to her which caused her a little upset.

The volunteer wanted her to know that there were a whole lot of people who agreed with her. She did not want her to feel bad about any problems she had caused me or any of the others by keeping me away from the sick. Clearly she was right. The store clerk agreed.  

When I died, I was still being told, usually with big exasperated sighs, that if I ‘thought’ that store clerks I did not even know, psychiatric hospital staff and many volunteers were talking about me often right in front of me as if I was not there, it meant I needed a change in medication.  

Our reality never dies but it remains the unseen world to those who need to deny it exists and to deny they are a part of it.
Post a Comment  |  Register For Email Updates

Disclaimer:

Naturally any resemblance between this fictional character and my actual life, including any resemblance to others, living or dead, is purely coincidental. What else COULD it be after all? It has all officially been proclaimed to be my own fabrication. Why do you think I received the label that I did? So if you should think I am talking about any of you locals, or imagine that I might even be directly quoting something you have said, let me put you at ease by offering you the same advice I have received;
You are just reading too much into things, you are too sensitive, you must not be so touchy and can you not let it all just roll off your backs?  

If these ideas fail to serve you well, then I might also suggest that you are perhaps having a perception/reaction problem similar to mine and perhaps you should make an appointment for a really good psychiatric assessment. If needed I know several psychiatrists personally with ten or eleven minutes to spare. I would be happy to give you their numbers.
 

 

A Psy-Fi Adventure by Patricia Lefave 

Sarah's Journal
An Unusual Perception of Reality 

My Name is Sarah Robertson

 ...and I have officially been labelled Inherently Defective by those who are determined to 'help' me. 

I could say I was railroaded into a mental hospital but if I did, that would only be called one of my symptoms anyway. Everything IS. It was all written in the Big Book of Insanity before I ever walked in the door.

As many of my fellow psychiatrized know and dare to say, it is a 'rigged game.' Of course no one believed me, for what could someone like me, who is not even a nurse, for God's sake, know of how life works, or how minds think.  I was soon to discover that I was not going to be 'allowed' to know how my own mind worked whenever it offended anyone else to have to think so.

So the head games began and they are still being played these many years later. 

It has been a bizarre psycho spiritual adventure and one that I almost did not survive to tell about it. But I did; and so now I tell my own story of this experience from MY point of view. 'We' are not supposed to give first person accounts of our experience because when we do it tends to ruin the 'stories' about it as supplied by others...those same 'others' who can never be wrong, and who can never be blamed either.

I think it is time we all learned how to blame appropriately as not doing so is so bloody enabling to those who want all the control over everything, and everyone.

It has to stop.

Maybe if I talk about it all here, that will help others who have been put though something similar work their way through their own bizarre adventure. I hope so. I know that talking about it to others has helped me, and I think that we have to connect together and find our true strength in each other, even while those who so eagerly psychiatrize us as the means of invalidating us, mock, ridicule and hiss at us like the dysfunctional snakes they often are.  At least it is a bit easier to be hissed at in good company than to be hissed at all alone.

So where will I begin my story? Shall I start at the beginning or just jump into it from where I am right now and sort of reminisce my way through it? I think I will just start from the now and then talk about all the connections I have been able to make along the way which allowed me to sort out enough of the chaos and confusion to make sense of my own experience. 

In the “Now”   

The community acting out is really pissing me off lately. It is SO long and tedious a process waiting for all these idiots to just wake up to the reality which is going on around them every single day, and which HAS been for all these years. How can they STILL not see the bloody obvious? No wonder so many of my fellow psychiatrized believe they have got to be “pretending” to be this stupid or else doing it on purpose so they can 'enjoy' the entertainment value they get from driving us into insanity. It is pretty hard to believe, even when I know it's true, that this many people can be this stupid and self absorbed for like, 17 YEARS. No wonder we sometimes think either 'we' or 'them' MUST be from some other planet. It is too far fetched to think we are all actually living on the same one with such profoundly different perceptions of the same experience. 

I have come to know though that this has a whole lot to do with the point of view from which we look at it and the premise of belief from which which judge everything we see and hear. I will try to explain as concretely as I can in my own story here. I think I will start with the last two months or so and then point out the connections I have been able to make over the years which have allowed me to understand my own experience even if no one else in it ever does. Trying to get anyone to just hear me has been like beating my head against the proverbial brick wall. I have to SAY the word 'proverbial' as otherwise the expression may well be construed as a 'cry for help' or taken literally, and a taser supplied team of community treatment police may arrive at my door to bring me down for more 'treatment' as ordered by this year's version of the thought police.

Do you STILL believe you have been harmed by 'others' Sarah? Despite the fact that we have told you we are only trying to help you? 

(My these sure are persistent delusions these whack jobs have aren't they?) 

Would you please stop talking about me three feet away like I am not here? I can hear you for God's sake.  

Oh we aren't talking about YOU Sarah....don't you worry your little head about that. (Apparently 'they' all think that people are talking about them.) 

One guy involved in my own case was said to have stated to a group, “we are talking about her right now.” 

I heard that the group members didn't really know what he meant by that. I wonder if this is the one who is supposed to have also said, I told one person and the whole city got involved. Later, it was acted out by some that a 'he' had said, “I told two people and the whole city got involved in that.”  

Was this the same person, two different people, or just another 'story' someone had fabricated and then others acted out for me. I never know of course as I am never talked to genuinely, or directly, by anyone. Insults and judgements they are interested in and assessments of the lives of people they don't actually know but genuine communication doesn't seem to interest anybody much; I guess it is not 'fun' like all the story telling.

I also think that the hardest thing to do is to just get the 'normal' people to hear themselves denying the reality of their own splitting, and the projection of it. I  learned in this experience that such people have NO IDEA we can see them and hear them when they are acting out from four feet away. It is absolutely surreal. 

My community won't deal with this reality. They don't want to “open up a can of worms.” Yet if they refuse to look, they will never understand it and this kind of mob behaviour is going to go on and on and at what cost? How many people have to die, go mad, or take vengeance on their abusers because of something  that could be understood and prevented from ever happening? Why does politics, appearances, the glad hand, and nice little sound bites come first? How did society get to the point where how we look and sound takes precedence over how we really are?  Is that what we learned best in all our dysfunctional groups; to behave like grinning idiots, be popular, smile like the Stepford Wives and ignore the fact that the world is full of pain, fear, rage, death and horror of our own collective creation? When will the acting out and the denial of it all stop? 

Why do we treat FEELINGS as if they were causes rather than the effects of all this? How does numbing ourselves to reality, some of us by FORCE if we don't comply, solve the very real problems we are all being so well trained to just ignore?
Worst of all WHO decides what is ''normal” and that those who are 'different' in any way or outside the parameters of this 'normal' need to be and should be controlled and modified to “fit” the predetermined standard? WHO, or perhaps WHAT is the 'one' who makes that decision?   

 

Who, or what is it, that sits at the top of the pyramid of power and control and defines the nature of reality and the abnormal for all of the rest of us? Is it psychiatry? If it is, then I have a really big problem with that and I am going to tell you all about it here and in relation to my own experiences too. 

Right now though I have to answer the automaton on the phone who wants to know, “How are YOU today Mrs. Robertson?” and then I have to go to Miller's department store where a well trained grinning clerk will whip out a pen, draw a circle around the 600 points! which I 'earned' today by shopping there, which are actually worth 7.5 cents, and which she has been specifically trained to do, including the plastic smile that goes with it. Then I have to go to a grocery store where I will enjoy a chorus of voices at the cash registers all asking in unison, Hi there! And how are you today?  

I must not ever suggest though that I feel like I am in some sort of reality TV Show where everything said and done seems contrived and artificial, or that I must be in some kind of surreal dream  like “the Matrix”, since if I do, it will most likely be perceived as signs of psychosis. After all, all the normal, non psychiatrized, smiling automatons everywhere see no problem; no problem at all. So if I don't want some more “reduction awareness medication” I'd best keep my mouth shut.

Still I will write it here where no one can accuse me of 'confronting' anyone which is apparently bad if I do it, but not bad for those who spew insults at me in public, even though they don't actually know me at all.
I don't know if they are the ones I would like to 'confront' the most or the ones who smile to my face and then tell third parties the “stories” they have heard which they have invented themselves. Of course I am not to see or hear any of this since it has all been defined as my “paranoid delusions and hallucinated conversations.”

 I 'hallucinated' one of my long time critics today...a woman who is a stranger to me and I to her, yet she feels entitled to bad mouth me to other strangers (to me) and the group of them get all righteous about what they think they understand, which in fact they have no clue about. This thing spread like wildfire. But I am forced to deny anything happened and that all these people are not doing what they do since it  would  not 'reasonable' for this to happen.
God!

When you get put through something like this and end up having to go to a psych hospital because you can no longer stay connected to concrete reality since you can't identify it anymore, it is terrifying enough. But when you get there and watch everyone smiling all the time like this was more fun than a barrel of monkeys, it is like being in the Twilight Zone. I Remember thinking, “They ALL look absolutely crazy.”
I think now that was truer than I would have guessed it would turn out to be. This has a whole lot to do with reality being the opposite of itself. That's what makes it all so bizarre; that and the capacity of the masses for engaging so willingly in The Pretence.

 

I remember that song: 

Evil grows in the dark

Where the sun it never shines

Evil grows in cracks and holes

And lives in people's minds. 

Trouble is it is often the minds of the wrong 'people' that get psychiatrized in the first place. Many of the real problem people fit right into society as easy as you please. They know what others want to see and hear and so they “comply” like good little automatons, but some of those good 'compliers' are  operating with hidden agendas all the time. They are the ones about whom everyone is “shocked” to discover it turns out that they are really well dressed, lovely mannered, serial killers, or embezzlers, or con men for whom society generally has had the greatest respect and admiration. I wonder if we will ever understand enough about ourselves and and the dysfunctional society we have created and called 'good,' to stop being shocked and surprised by this, each and every time it happens? 

Speaking of the dysfunctional society, just yesterday, I was given two little 'tests' by my fellow dysfunctional citizens. One of the 'tests' was to see how 'smart “ I am and apparently I failed.

In the other 'test' the testers were looking to see what kind of a reaction they would get and got none since I just ignored them. (You see I have been given the SAME 'test' many times.)

In both versions of the little 'test', the testers were unaware of my awareness of being 'tested.' Therefore, their assessment of my responses is based on their own belief that they are the smarter, more 'normal” minds testing a lower one. 

These little tests remind me of lab rat experiments.  The experimenter wants to see how fast the lab rat can find it's way through the maze. Before the little test though, the rat talked it over with the other lab rats back in the cage and they decided together that it really did not matter how fast they made it to the finish line since it was never fast enough to suit the lab technician anyway. So they decided to stop running the maze and just wait it out.

Of course the lab technicians had no idea that the rats understood the test was about seeing how fast they would get through the maze and the only reason the rats had co-operated so far in running it, was the faint hope that if they did it fast enough to satisfy the testers, they would get out of that damned lab and go home.

When that proved not to be the case, they saw no further point in running since the motivation to do so was gone.  

The lab technicians of course knowing themselves to be the genetic superiors over the lab rats concluded that the rats were all of extremely low intelligence. To what other conclusion could they possibly come as 'objective observers' of an inferior species? 

You know I think it is just too hard to try to talk about this in any kind of chronological order so I have decided I am just going to talk about it now as it is happening. I never thought I would do this but I have decided just to open up my journals for others to read...Here they come  

 Sarah's Journal: Thinking Out Loud...

stay tuned....to be continued

00044560
 
 
© 2013 CounterPsych Log In