Political Persecution and Whitewash

So enough about me. The whole point is that I was writing about others and observations I've made. Yes, I'm on medication that I didn't consent to and I don't even know what it is. Probably lithium or tranquilizer, and not the "drug dependency" line they're now feeding me. Whatever it is, as long as it slows me down and makes me suffer is the point. I'm the laughingstock of town for thinking the side effects are from radiation. That's okay.

I have told the truth about others. And when I've made guesses as to my own life, I admit they're only guesses. Being wrong, uninformed, or made to feel humiliated about my own life doesn't take away from the truth.

I wondered why the ER doctors tried to say my pain was in my head. But they have refused to do an MRI. Hmmmm....I wonder...Could it be that they know I'm in pain but want me to suffer, knowing that if they acknowledge my pain they'd have to take me off of this crap that slows me down and hurts me too? Do they care about my pain or about themselves and the idea that I may write about them and continue writing about the Healthcare Hell in Wenatchee? I believe I was criticizing them, in my little blog, before they pulled out the dart guns.

I hurt badly. But the more of this crap I take, the more I hurt. I'm feeling the pain in my spine again, and back, to where I can't sit upright again and feel too weak to hold up my own spine. If this is all in my head, it's interesting how I knew EXACTLY the date the pain STOPPED and when it started up again. Isn't it? I got ONE week off of this crap and after telling them how much misery it caused me, what do they do? Put me back on it.

All I know, is that when I was on it, if I wrote, I thought I was writing like "myself" but I wasn't. And I couldn't even see it until I was off of the crap. Then I realized how I hadn't been able to articulate how I felt, feel things, smell things, or sing. I haven't been singing. I don't have the energy to sing anymore. If I kept taking this, and at this point, they've had me on it too long for me to quit without assistance, I would end up in the same painful stupor. I notice, when I'm on this stuff, I write about myself, and don't have the ability to write about the important things.

Which makes me think about one of the guys they had come to hospital to interview me for admission to a psych hospital. He got in my face, turned red, and yelled at me. He even yelled at me that I was delusional. Which is interesting because the medical professionals in town hate me and are hostile to me, and treat me like crap, until they think they have me beat. When I'm no longer a "threat" to their own moral integrity and reputations, they're civil. Not that I don't see the sneers, delighted exchanges, and laughs. It's funny, how people will forget to conceal their feelings when they think someone has lost the ability to make accurate observations.

If someone thinks you're drunk, even if they are NOT drunk, they let their guard down. They're not worried about anyone catching on. Same thing here. I say, let the guards down and show me your true colors.

I could be completely NOT taking any medication at all, but if others THINK I am, I can pick out changes in their behavior and awareness. It's like going undercover as a poor person when you're rich. You don't really know how people feel about you, until you see both sides--the side they show when they believe you're rich, and the side they show when they believe you're poor.

It's almost like switching a light on and off. How do they look in the dark vs. light? When I speak the truth, I am accused of being false. For example, one of my alleged "delusions" is that I ever knew anyone in the FBI. It is generally assumed here, that I did not, even though the truth is, I did. So now, while others attempt to control me and what I write by administering drugs without my consent and knowledge, which I believe is a form of mind control, political persecution and violation of the freedoms of free speech, how do I regard those who are false and opposed to the truth?

I have to say, this is their choice, not mine. I choose the light, they want the dark. I choose the truth, they want what is gray. I am bound by their chains, and yet I am free in knowing my Will is manipulated and it is not my fault. This is the price one must pay for loving the Truth and wanting to let it shine when others don't appreciate the glare. They want the white picket fence and tell me I should want it. If I don't want it, they will attempt to force me to want it. I choose the cross. You can keep the whitewash to yourselves.