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None of this was written for sympathy or for any personal gain at all. It was simply written to end the suffering of millions of people around the world.
If you don't care for my personal story, please scroll to the bottom of this page to see an article written with statistics that prove the horrible conditions of jails and mental hospitals, and how they are effecting society. Including that a person is 246 times more likely to kill themselves after discharge and that mental health care is the most expensive health care in the country (costing 201 billion annually) sources are included in this article.
Before I was "crazy."
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I have tried many times to write the following story because I know it has to be told. Since there is a lot of religious experience in the story, I wrote it in the style of the Book of Mormon. I do not claim that my religious experiences are valid or that it means much more to others than it does to me. I only write this way to explain the divine experiences (or hallucinations) I had. They are only applicable to this story to give insight into why I personally was "crazy".
The main purpose of this story is to document how those deemed "mentally ill" are experiencing state-sponsored torture and abuse - and that everyone in America is complicit in this via apathy. And that the way we deem someone mentally ill is also flawed and keeping potential prophets of the Earth (whether or not I am one is up for debate and unlikely) from being able to spread the word of God and our Lord and Savior. The beginning of the story goes through a great deal of religious experience before it gets to all of the abuse. I hope you can get through it even if it offends or bores you to get to the main purpose of this article. Which is to end the suffering of millions of people. I have written this many times in many styles and have continued to receive no support. |
My "Manic" Art
Finally I must preface this with: I have never consumed an illegal drug or any drug not prescribed by a doctor. I have never been convicted with drug use or possession. I was blood tested for drugs during each of my psychotic breaks and did not fail once. Therefore, to claim that I am responsible for what happened to me because of drug use (that did not occur) is not only immoral, it is libel and/or slander.
This does not mean I think drug addicts are more responsible for their mental illness than I am. I only say this because I have often been called a drug addict and judged for it myself. I am trying to avoid that judgement.
Before I speak at all I have to try my best to escape judgement so the message of my writing will actually be considered. To escape the judgement of people who hate drug addicts, I have now offended people who are compassionate about drug addicts. That was not my intent by writing that paragraph or my intent for anytime I write about them. Because of how controversial this all is and because I am trying to have an original voice and come at this from a different point of view (that could actually change the world if it was listened to instead of judged and thrown away) I will be judged harshly by every group of people.
Why do you think I haven't even been able to say an anecdote of this for the past three years of my life? Three years of my life and I am not allowed to say any part of it honestly because it could be deemed offensive by someone somewhere.
I have my perspective because I have experienced so much in the past three years. My perspective is different then every person walking this Earth. It is going to offend people. All I care about is that you read through what is "offensive" to you to understand the message of the entire story.
I hope you won't be a part of that group and just listen to my entire story before judging me harshly. I also hope you won't tell me what I believe. If you say I believe something based on what I wrote, it isn't fair. If I tell you what I truly believe, that is what I truly believe and you have misunderstood my writing.
This does not mean I think drug addicts are more responsible for their mental illness than I am. I only say this because I have often been called a drug addict and judged for it myself. I am trying to avoid that judgement.
Before I speak at all I have to try my best to escape judgement so the message of my writing will actually be considered. To escape the judgement of people who hate drug addicts, I have now offended people who are compassionate about drug addicts. That was not my intent by writing that paragraph or my intent for anytime I write about them. Because of how controversial this all is and because I am trying to have an original voice and come at this from a different point of view (that could actually change the world if it was listened to instead of judged and thrown away) I will be judged harshly by every group of people.
Why do you think I haven't even been able to say an anecdote of this for the past three years of my life? Three years of my life and I am not allowed to say any part of it honestly because it could be deemed offensive by someone somewhere.
I have my perspective because I have experienced so much in the past three years. My perspective is different then every person walking this Earth. It is going to offend people. All I care about is that you read through what is "offensive" to you to understand the message of the entire story.
I hope you won't be a part of that group and just listen to my entire story before judging me harshly. I also hope you won't tell me what I believe. If you say I believe something based on what I wrote, it isn't fair. If I tell you what I truly believe, that is what I truly believe and you have misunderstood my writing.
This story occurred three years ago. I now have a very good therapist and psychiatrist that I see regularly. I accept that I have bipolar disorder and I'm on a great medication regiment that has allowed me to return to full time work and get married. I am studying the Bible and the Book of Mormon to explore tha potential validity of my experiences. Please don't worry about my current mental health or religious beliefs.
THE BOOK OF GREGORY AND THE CHAPTER OF BREE
In March of 2015 an event that was great to me occurred in my brother’s house. One month earlier I had been hospitalized for anxiety. I had PTSD from a rape and couldn't sleep. A psychiatrist named Donald Mayes of the Desert Parkway Hospital, put me on zoloft. He did not warn me or my family that it could cause a manic episode if I had an underlying bipolar disorder. I did an a manic episode did occur.
The night before the event occurred, I had not thought of God or felt his presence since I was six years old. I had been experiencing strange occurrences and wished to speak with God on them. My friend Erik claimed to have spoken to an Angel about me. He was my closest friend at the time and we had been experiencing a religious delusion together.
The room had filled with such light that all I could see what white around me. And appearing from above was my father who had died when I was three. He asked me if I was angry of his death and I replied that I was. And he said to me that he was not angry.
He told me that his death was for a purpose.
And he spoke to me that before meeting my mother God called had called to him. And He said to him, "You should marry a widow and care for three children, then seed two of your own. And after that, you will die."
The pain for them would be boundless. He did not wish for my mother to fear during the last of his days thus he did not reveal this prophecy to her. He knew that after his death, his two children must be left alone in the world. For their mother would work too hard to ever see them. Their siblings would not feel this pain as they had a different Father than them.
I wept more but then God spoke to me. His voice appeared liken of Morgan Freedom and we all laughed. Apparently, this is a common theme among people with religious hallucinations. He was silhouetted in the blinding white light - wearing a fedora and a business suit.
"Why do you speak this way?" I asked.
And he said it is the tongue I would accept.
And that I should weep the loss of my father and then weep no more.
He said to remember how my Father had always been alive with me. He told me to remember the meetings of my Dad that were taken from me through ridicule of my siblings.
I suddenly had all the memories of my childhood where my Father had been. And I wept with joy as each flashed into my mind in just but a moment. For example, I was in an over crowded swimming pool and there he was in the distance, a huge bald man with round glasses that glinted in the sun. Always with a strap on them to keep them from being lost if they fell off. My father is very distinct looking and I knew it was him, but no one believed me.
God told me that all he does is for a purpose and that now I was protected from all calamity.
And while I was full of grace and respect no harm shall come upon me as I was protected by God and my Father and my Lord.
And He spoke that I did have a mission but that it is yet to be revealed. And I would know when it started.
My father began to speak with me again. He appeared in the room as a person. I could touch his skin and feel his heat pulsing in his chest.
And he told me many things I cannot remember. Things about his life and what he had done before he met my Mom, things I never knew. But I hadn't slept or eaten for days. He said I would forget and I did.
I had written them down immediately after the event. Alas it too was not meant to be remembered as the laptop was later stolen. I do hope that the laptop still exists in the world and that it will be returned one day.
And in great ecstasy I did beg my Brothers to read the text. In which they read one sentence and threw it away. They said to me that I was insane with their eyes though but they did not speak a word.
A dog appeared in his back yard. And god had told me that dog was his name backwards for a great purpose. I fell on the wood of my brother’s kitchen as I ran outside to meet the dog.
Upon entering the day light he had disappeared. I knew I should take my own dog for a walk. And while I did my keys fell onto the earth. I searched for them a long while and then went to bed with a fear that my car would be stolen.
Yet it was not and the next day I began to search again and came upon a sign. It’s said: Found Keys and to call a number.
And as always it was Mormons who came to my aid when my brothers would not. As they had not searched with me when I asked.
Then I felt strong urges to put myself into dangers. To test if they would be to provide aid and safety as God had promised. And He appeared to many times.
I knew the lost and found keys were a sign. There were many signs that filled me were fervent ecstasy. Some of them valid and others not. As I was searching for the mission God had sent me on but not told me of.
And God had done so to make me manic. And through this, God tricked me into starting my mission.
Yet He did urge me to protect my most precious things. The tens of artwork I had drawn in the midst of suffering the year before. And two journals from each of my previous mental hospitalizations. And that if He had not done so, it would all surely have been lost.
I had many stories to tell documented in such work. And He knew it must be protected and I could trust no one.
Then God spoke to me in my head. He said I was to bring it to my first mentor. Christi at Utah’s Hogle Zoo. And it was with great purpose this is across the road from This Is The Place park, which commemorated the Mormon pilgrims first arrival in the state. I brought my portfolio of art there to that holiest of places. And Christi looked at all the art and promised to keep it safe.
The Zoo had many valuable artifacts of deceased animals - their parts preserved and separated. To show all at the Zoo the miracles God had evolved on this Earth.
And I knew locked in that storage was the safest place in all the world for my Art. Especially from my Mother and Brothers whom I could no longer trust.
I searched everywhere knowing I had a mission and trying to hear God’s instructions. Yet all I heard was that there was a mission to pursue and I would know when it occurred.
And so I thought many actions were the beginning of the mission. They were the beginning but not in the way one would expect. As God was going to turn me away. And thus, he made me believe.
And as I put myself in danger many times to test the validity of God my three days after the event. Finally climaxing in me suddenly driving from my brother's house in Utah, back to where I lived in Las Vegas. An hour earlier I had seen a sign that I was to return to Las Vegas and make Amends with Alex, the boyfriend I had dated for two weeks and broke up with immediately before travelling to my brothers.
I was living alone in my house, but I couldn't stand being alone any longer, so I had moved in with my Mom. Alex offered to move in with me so I could go back to my house but he had a stipulation: I had to buy him a car. I had not known him for long, so we had a fight and he broke up with me.
I was already somewhat delusional at this point. In my right mind, I never would have spoken to Alexander Governale, let alone date him. His arms were covered in ugly tattoos, he had several piercings including two in his lips that were so dirty they gave me large pimples in the same area on my lips.
He was also a meth addict supposedly in recovery, but in reality he had never quit smoking meth at all. I had met him inside the mental hospital. Another reason why it is a terrible idea to house vulnerable, gullible, mentally ill patients with personality disordered drug addicts.
The signs from God had told me that he was my soul mate, and that I was to return to him and do his bidding. I was in complete hysteria at this point. My mania was induced by zoloft, making it an extremely severe acute case of psychotic mania.
In my hysteria, I suddenly stopped driving back to my brothers house after spending a day driving around looking for signs. Including going to the Mormon temple and hassling the members. Something came on the radio and through it I heard god voice telling me I must return to Alex.
In my hysteria I did the worst thing I have ever done in my life. I owned a service dog named Kimber. She was a tiny red golden retriever and the love of my life. She had been the only person in my life for the previous three years. I had paid $1200 to the breeder and $700 to a trainer so she could become my service dog.
From that moment on, she was with me 24-7. I couldn't function without her. However, I worked from home and only left my house a few times a week. When I did so I drove short distances. Kimber had very bad car sickness since she was a puppy. She would always throw up multiple times in the car.
I had planned to make ammends with Alex that night and then return back to my brothers house in Utah, and only leave my dog for one day. All day I had been making crazy posts on my snapchat and sending crazy texts, but my family had completely ignored my behavior. Until I started driving back to Las Vegas.
At that point my brother texted me that I could not leave Kimber behind. Very dangerously, I texted while driving. As God had told me he would protect me and I was testing him. My brother was livid and the rest of my family also started to angrily text me. They showed no concern for my wellbeing, only anger for how I was bothering them.
I told my brother that Kimber suffered from sickness, and I didn't want her to experience a round trip car drive of over 13 hours. I would be back the next day. I had already driven a couple of hours, but I told my brother I would turn around and retrieve my dog if he demanded it. But he agreed to keep her for the night, so I continued on.
On the way to Las Vegas, I needed to stop and get gas. I saw a sign for "Leeds" Utah, which was another sign from God, because he was clearly leading me there. I went to a closed gas station, but the pumps were still open. There were detailed instructions on how to pump gas at that particular station, along with other signed warning you to not smoke or use a cell phone while pumping. There were way too many signs in that gas station for a psychotic person to look at.
I completely lost my mind at this point. I tried very hard, but no matter what I did I couldn't get the gas pump to work. I began to believe it was a test from God to prove that he was talking to me. I thought that everyone in my family had actually been tested this way and ended up at the same gas pump. They had been told a special code that they put into the card reader that gave them a special receipt which was actually a VIP pass to the Mormon temple, along with providing me with free gas.
So I began to call my siblings asking for the code. I talked each of their ears off. They all told me I needed to go back to Utah or call my Mom. They wouldn't answer me about the code. Finally I called my Mom. She told me she was going to call the police to have them come help me.
The police arrived and took me to a hotel for the night. The next day my Mom came and picked me up. We started driving back to Las Vegas, and I enthusiastically told her all about the signs, the codes, and the mission to make ammends with Alex. She told me that I was unwell and needed to return to the hospital.
In the end, I agreed to go, because I thought it was another test. If I could prove to the hospital that I was not crazy and really was talking to God, then everyone would believe me. For the first night, I was convinced that Alex and the leader of the Mormon church would arrive at the hospital at any moment to whisk me away to a life of doing art for the Mormon church.
They never came. Then I realized I was locked again in a mental hospital which is a terrible place to be.
I was completely stable on the fifth day and had always complied with my treatment, but I was not released. And even when my psychiatrist and therapist outside of the hospital told them I was ready to be released into their care. And my Mom said I was being harmed more there now than I was being helped, I was not released into their care. In the psychotic ward I had few friends and the rest were criminals that only wished to harm me and drive me into further insanity.
And many prophesied that I would be turned away from God. And that he would allow me a great deal of suffering. And they told me I would become evil. And I said that I never would do such things and that God would never allow me harm. And they told me it was what God told them, but I did not believe.
Upon being released, I brought them a great number of books and the collection of an entire series of movies worth a great deal of money and gave it to them. I talked to them on the phone because they were just as “crazy” as I. God led to believe me this was the mission.
And they said unto me that this place was certainly evil and condemned by demons. And that something had to be done.
And so God appeared to me once more. And He demanded me a strange quest:
To tell my story of the mental hospital with grace and respect and to save my brethren but without a tongue.
And so I did as he demanded. Erik who had assisted me in the past assisted me again. As he had spoken to God and had been demanded to help. And we both knew this. Though we had not much said it to each other, for God had done the talking to both of us. He helped for my car was back in Utah where my Mom had picked me up.
And so Erik drove me to Fremont Street. I told him he should leave and return to me in an hour. And I began upon my task.
I had known how I would tell the story. I brought chalk and drew on the gigantic sidewalk of Fremont street as other performers sang and danced around me. And many stopped and observe as I let my body be possessed with the Holy Ghost and dramatically move with each decisive stroke as I had done with many art pieces in the six months prior.
A man came unto me and he said the police were coming and I must leave this place. And I said in my mind that the police are good and will treat me fairly. But I could not use my tongue, so I shook my head no. And he said that I would go to jail and jail was not a good place. Yet I knew with the spirit I had inside me that I could make any place good, even a jail. And so, I went back to drawing and he stepped back to observe.
The police did come and I tried to communicate my mission but without my tongue as He had demanded. My tongue was but a stone in my mouth I could not move even if I tried. This was actually a side effect of the medications I was put on. As I discovered in future hospitalizations, whenever I was put on a new antipsychotic I would get this side effect and so would any other patient I met. Your tongue would get stuck to the roof of your mouth and it would make it nearly impossible to speak. The little you could speak came out slow and sounded retarded. No doctor ever warned me that this was a side effect, and so I thought it was supernatural.
And they demanded my ID and I did not know I could refuse. And they looked at it and scanned it whispering among themselves a few feet away.
And they then said to me we must go in an alley. As a great number of people had gathered who had watched me draw with the chalk. That did wish that no harm would come upon me. And I was not allowed to complete my drawing though they wished that I would.
And at that time my cousin appeared in the street whom I had only seen a handful of times. And I was not aware she was there nor, did I remember what she looked like. She served God without knowing and had been drawn all the way from Texas to be there at that very moment.
And yet she did betray me. She did not speak to the officer to tell them I was “manic” and great harm would come upon me if arrested. And that I was not a drug addict as they proclaimed but had just been released from a hospital. And no one should be judged or treated differently for addiction. And yet they are. So to be judged as such made humanity harsher towards me.
As drug addicts are immorally judged and treated, and so when I am branded with such a cursed name, I face the same judgement.
And yet she did not say these things. She did not follow us into the alley. The police did not think I was crazy. They believed I was addicted to immoral chemicals. And that I deserved great punishment for harming My Temple given by our Lord and Savior.
And I was immediately arrested. And I asked why? And they did not reply. And I said it again and they began speaking among themselves as if I didn’t exist.
And yet I was so full of joy and faith in God that I shall not be harmed. As I had been shielded many times before.
So that I was driven to the jail and chained to a bench for many hours with no information. Among a possessed man who yelled at me that I was a white. Who yelled at me that I should be raped and murdered.
A woman begged for hours to urinate and yet they would not let her urinate. And I yelled at our captors that this woman must urinate. And that it was truly evil for a woman so scared and out of her mind to not be allowed such a basic right. And finally, she did urinate all around the floor and my socks as my feet were chained there. And that the guards did nothing for a great while. And then they took my socks and I never had them again. I would long for them in the future. My feet would not be washed from her urine for five days hence.
I still believed God will protect me though I could not feel his presence in that place. I knew that I must remain full of positive love and grace; and if I did so no one would hurt me.
And during the many hours there I began to sing. And drowned out the sounds of the wicked and fill the room with beauty. And no one told me to stop. I did sing until my throat was raw and I asked for water. And after a while they did give it unto me while they did not give it to others. And they liked me singing and I was glad to bring them joy.
And then finally they retrieved me and took me unto a nurse. And she asked me many questions of my health. And I told her I was dependent on a great deal of antipsychotic and mood stabilizers and that I did need my medication, or my life would be at stake. As one is more insane in withdrawals than they could be naturally.
And she told me a psychiatrist would come the next day. And I was full of love and faith and so I believed her and spoke no more. But I had not taken my medication that morning and had already missed one more dose there. And I was beginning to feel the world become chaotic around me. As it would become more chaotic than ever in withdrawals, then with never having them at all.
Again I asked the guard what my charges were. But he said I would be told later. Again, I asked for my phone call and they said I would have it later. And then they put me in a cell without any other cell mates. It was a holding cell and therefore only had a bench and no bed, but a cot. Outside my doors all the other inmates were caged with phones in the centre of the room.
And I was never allowed to have one phone call as I was not released from my cell as they were. And a great deal of fear fell upon me in the night. And I believed my family did not know where I was. Unbeknownst to me my cousin had told them, and they did know.
And my Mother did care. And she called the jail asking for me many times and they would give her no information. She drove to the jail and yet they would not speak with her. She spent many hours in the parking lot a few hundred yards from my cell, unable to do anything to release my suffering.
And Satan started speaking to me for the first time. I saw him in the eyes of the guards and the other detainees. He told me what God had in store for me.
And he made my body scream in agony of pain as if I was burning alive.
God had turned me away and left me to Satan.
Who in turn told me it was him all along. And that all I had done was simply to hurt myself. And that I was amusing and that was all.
And he showed me visions. He demsnded, look at the horrible things you have done. And I looked. And I saw it was Christmas and my nieces’ bodies lay mutilated in the snow. And that I held a knife and had butchered my sister moments prior.
And I knew that I had hate it my heart for her. Because she was the leader among my brothers who had turned me against God and sought to leave my childhood in ruins.
And I knew that I ought to love her because I loved my nieces so. But how could this rage at my sister cause me to consume my nieces?
And I knew it must have happened. And that I was in jail to suffer for my crimes. And I knew the worst punishment were my memories of bearing Emma for all her life.
That I had sought to have more fun with her than my sister had. That I had let my arms break with her heaviness as I walked her around the house crying from birth to six months of age. And that she always cried. Yet I would never let her cry alone. Thus, I held her.
And one day the work was realized. As she suddenly stopped crying and I looked upon her miraculous face. And she peered into my soul and smiled for the first time. And it was the most beautiful sight I will have in this lifetime. But I had snuffed this innocence out.
And I forgot as God intended, I did that he had demanded I never violate my Temple and snuff out my own life. And yet in grief I could not remember this and tied a towel around my neck. And I hung myself on the edge of the cot. And lay there until I could breathe no more.
And as my head was collapsed in pressure the guards did enter the cell. And the yanked upon my body as if to break my neck as I hoped they would, though it hurt. And they untied my neck and ripped my body from the concrete.
And they said unto me, now you will go to suicide watch. And asked if I knew what that meant. And I did not respond because I knew not. And another guard said of course she does. She has certainly been there before.
And I said unto them, I had never been in jail before and I knew not why I was there and I had not had a phone call. And they laughed and said you know what to do. And I was led to a white concrete cell. That was empty save for a toilet, sink and suicide smock on the floor. And they stripped me naked. And their eyes burned upon my naked flesh which few had seen.
And they told me to not be naked any further I must wear the suicide smock. They laughed and said I wanted to be naked. And yet I did not want to even move. Thus I was frozen.
Yet I grew cold in the late winter air. And so, felt the camera in the corner of the room more than anything. And that people were filming me naked and I knew not what they did with such videos.
And so I picked up the smock. I inspected it and found it was cut into different shapes with velcro in many places. And as I stood there naked, I said this is not a puzzle I can solve.
And they said unto me again, I had been there before and I knew what to do. And then I believed them. As if my entire life was a delusion. And I had been in jail many times with no memory.
And Satan did say yes that was true and yes, I belonged to be humiliated in this way. Thus, I placed the thick polyester upon myself and stuck the Velcro into different places, yet I did not do it correctly.
Much of my flesh was exposed to the cold and watching eyes. And I looked foolish. And my long hair was caught and mangled in the Velcro. And now with so much time in captivity it began to turn into a matte.
And I begged for a hair tie or a brush to save my hair which I had worked all my life to make it so long, smooth and glimmering with life. And I was given nothing.
And many hours passed where I had nothing to do. All I wished for was a pencil and paper to remain sane. And had I been given none that followed would have happened. I meditated for hours as the Buddha had taught me and began to forgive my captives for such transgressions.
I saw upon the walls much graffiti was pierced with by pencils. And I asked why I was not allowed a pencil when I would not do such a thing, as I would never have risked it taken away.
And there could be no sleeping. There was a piece of thick polyester on the floor that was labeled a suicide sleeping bag. I discovered it was meant to be folded it in half. However, with it under me I was too cold to bare and the floor was too hard.
Thus, not even sleep could make the time pass. And time did pass slowly. But I sat as the Buddha did and meditated. Save awoken from my trance when the guard walked past my cell every fifteen minutes to scan a bar. The machine he held would beep a few times and then grow fainter as he did again for each cell. And to this day I do hear that beeping. And it awakens me from my sleep. And it brings me back to that place when I hear it.
The hallway did stretch into an eternity. So many souls were here tortured, scared, bored and angry. And they did yell and scream. And hit and kick their doors. And I could feel the demons feeding around me and bringing more harm to these souls.
It came to pass that my cell filled with light. Where in Jesus did appear before me.
He did not blind me as God had. And I saw him as a man I could touch. And he said I could touch his hand to know it was true.
And I said that I did love him and always had believed in him. As my father had told me to. And all though I had forgotten the conversations, my love for Jesus was permanently stowed upon my soul because of my Father.
But that I had to pretend not all my life to be safe from the ridicule of my family. And sometimes I had convinced myself to be safe at the worst of times. And that I could not be forgiven for betraying him. And yet he forgave.
Where in Jesus came upon me and we had a joyful time and then told me all that I had believed in jail was a lie. And that I had never been before. And that I had never killed an innocent in my life. And then he was gone, and the hall was filled with darkness though the fluorescent lights never stopped their constant glow that made my brain throb.
And I filled with rage at my captors and Satan who had convinced me to violate His laws and snuff out my own life. The Satan that was worshipped here. And I hit my hand with great force on the window in the door. And that my hands turned bright red and I was certain they should break.
And I told the passing guards I had not had my phone call. I had been for almost two days without a phone call. And that I did not know what my charges were. And save for the first nurse, no one had acknowledged my existence.
And when they said nothing, I hit my hand upon the door again. And I was so filled with rage that I would not have known if my hands did break.
And a man some cells away from me screamed in agony. He said that his cell was on fire. And that he was burning in great agony. And they must remove him from his cell or he would surely die. And many times, did they go to his cell because he had done things I knew not.
And they tore him from his cell before and returned him several hours later where he screamed even more of the flames inside his cell. And I wished I could go upon him with Jesus and soothe the wounds that burned him. And to release his soul from these captives. No matter what he had done to arrive therein.
And as I heard other screaming, some drowned, some electrocuted, I thought I was not in jail, but a torturing facility. And I thought each cell was a particular torture growing worse to the last cells of the hall. And that I would proceed through all the cells to be tortured in each way until finally I was to be slain.
And then I began to scream with all my strength. I screamed with blood collecting in my throat. I screamed until nothing, but air would come out as my vocal chords had broken. The guards did not acknowledge me.
And I had sang a great deal in the two days prior but now I could not do so anymore. And they did nothing to my screaming. Thus I took the only item in my cell, the roll of toilet paper. And I soaked it in the sink. And I mashed it into pieces.
And as I threw it at the camera, so they would have to acknowledge my cell, I left the jail. And the walls disappeared behind me and I was throwing a snowball at my childhood friend Max.
And I did laugh and throw more in rejoice with mine arms that had turned into the arms of a child. Yet the toilet paper would not stick. I looked upon the meal of a burger they had left and realized it would stick. And so I mashed the meat with the toilet paper until the camera was covered.
And then the guards did come and stand at my cell, ridiculing me and discussing if they should clean my cell. And they decided no, and one named Rachel said she made her mess and let her sit in it.
And I wanted to appear strong. Thus, I sat on my sleeping bag with paper and food bits all around me. And the roaring of nothing to occupy my mind was silenced. As I meditated once more.
And they no longer brought me trays of food. They brought a paper bag with a bologna sandwich and an apple three times daily. And I awaited Gods return but He would not come.
And there were detainees who had brought me trays of food three time daily in the past. And they had nodded at and acknowledged me. And I saw in their eyes even though they were criminals that they wept for me. And the best part of my days was to see them and nod at them and smile. And that too was taken from me. For now only a guard would come upon my cell with food.
And when they had brought me trays of food the water they gave was mixed with soap and a carton of milk was given for hydration. I did not drink milk, so I dumped it out. And they did not bring any other water. And so I drank from the sink and saved a carton of milk to use as a cup. When they began giving me sacked lunches, the soap was no longer delivered.
And I did not know that the soap was brought for cleaning. And I did believe they were dehydrating me with great purpose.
I was positioned closely to their desk. And I could hear the computer when they played music and watched videos. And I could barely see the computer if I looked at an angle that hurt my eyes.
And instead of helping detainees as I have their basic rights fulfilled, as I had been there two days without a phone call nor being told what my charges were, they did surf the web. And they looked up the private records of criminals to humiliate them. And when I begged them to look up my record, they finally acknowledged me and said that they had seen my file and there were no records yet.
And I did not know the charges against me and neither did they, yet they continued to punish and abuse me. And I saw them look up my records on the computer, wherein there was a picture of me smiling, and there was no information on the computer beside my picture.
And once they played music from beauty and the beast. And I had a vision of being in that hall dancing. And I did dance with the beast in a perfect waltz which I had not known before how to do. And I realized they were watching me. And they had not played the music to amuse me but to humiliate me.
I needed to relieve my bladder. After I did so, I realized there was no longer any toilet paper in my cell. I sat there for a long while deciding what I should do without begging the guards.
And I decided I should wash myself with water from the sink, though there was no soap or method to dry myself in the cold cell. But when I turned on my sink no water came and when I flushed the toilet no water left.
Hours passed on the sealed room began to rot with old food. I had to release the contents of my colon and I could not wash my hands, flush the toilet or wipe myself. More filth did rot upon my body. The stench of the rotting food and the toilet covered the sealed room.
I became thirsty and asked a guard why there was no water to my cell. And he said unto me that it was broken. Thus I asked him again for water and he walked away.
And so in desperation I sucked the last of the water out of the pipe with my lips upon the filthy faucet. And I believed the water was from another cell that would be electrocuted every time I drank water as I always heard her scream when I drank. Yet it was good, so I drank. And I turned from God by allowing another to be tortured for my needs.
There was rotting food in my hair from throwing it around. My hair became a thick matte, and I could barely see around it as it stuck to my head.
I was brought a carton of milk with my next meal. It did not quench my thirst, but it did soothe my broken throat and vocal chords. My voice returned, and I was able to sing again. And I asked Jesus to return to me. And I sang for Him this song over and over. And I knew He was with me.
In my weakest moment I see You
Shaking Your head in disgrace
I can read the disappointment
Written all over Your face
Here come those whispers in my ear
Saying, “who do you think you are?”
Looks like you're on your own from here
‘Cause grace could never reach that far
But in the shadow of that shame
Beat down by all the blame
I hear You call my name saying it's not over
And my heart starts to beat so loud now
Drowning out the doubt
I'm down, but I'm not out
There's a war between guilt and grace
And they're fighting for a sacred space
But I'm living proof
Grace wins every time
No more lying down in death's defeat
Now I'm rising up in victory
Singing, hallelujah
Grace wins every time
Words can't describe the way it feels
When mercy floods a thirsty soul
The broke inside begins to heal
And grace returns what guilty stole
And in the shadow of that shame
Beat down by all the blame
I hear You call my name saying it's not over
And my heart starts to beat so loud now
Drowning out the doubt
I'm down, but I'm not out
There's a war between guilt and grace
And they're fighting for a sacred space
But I'm living proof
Grace wins every time
No more lying down in death's defeat
Now I'm rising up in victory
Singing, hallelujah
Grace wins every time
For the prodigal son
Grace wins
For the woman at the well
Grace wins
For the blind man and the beggar
Grace wins
For always and forever
Grace wins
For the lost out on the streets
Grace wins
For the worst part of you and me
Grace wins
For the thief on the cross
Grace wins
For a world that is lost
There's a war between guilt and grace
And they're fighting for a sacred space
But I'm living proof
Grace wins every time
No more lying down in death's defeat
Now I'm rising up in victory
Singing, hallelujah
Grace wins every time, every time
Yeah, I'm living proof
Grace wins every time
And as I sang it I had a vast amount of visions. And I acted them out and did dance. And the concrete did not hurt me as I rolled over my head and onto the ground many times. So many visions of such variety that I cannot describe them now without a great deal of meditation.
I did see Jesus upon his cross and remembered he and others had suffer so much more than I. And that I should not break and not let the guards take away my honor and grace.
And my voice did echo in the room sealed with rot. And the guards did not like that I was not broken. Thus they finally did come upon my cell. And they told me to stand naked with my hands upon the wall in front of me.
And Jesus had told me not to feel shame. And that these people will be plagued with memories of torturing innocent souls when the know what they had done. And that I should feel sorrow for them and not myself.
And so they threw my orange jumpsuit at me and I followed all instructions to wear it. And they put chains upon my wrists and ankles, so tightly they cut the blood from my appendages and they began to swell. And then they placed a chain around my waist and chained my wrists and ankles to this.
Before I had been in suicide watch they had given me a sweatshirt to wear under the jumpsuit. I saw it piled on the floor with my rubber sandals. And I longed for it because I had not slept and was cold for two days.
There in, Rachel pushed me, and I fell with no way to catch myself. She held the chain at my waist and so all my weight fell upon the chains on my wrists. And the pain burst white hot radiating through my body and I uttered the word ouch.
And the women mocked me and said ouch dramatically and my cheeks did burn with helplessness. That I vowed to never cry out in front of them again.
And then they paraded me down the long hallway. My ankles were chained so tightly that I could not stand flat footed. As the tendon in my ankle could not flex without being sharply bitten by metal. I did not speak, but I did smile. As I felt Jesus with me, giving me strength.
And they said unto me. You are going to The Bench. And I felt as if I was the horse from the movie Spirit. When he was chained to a post for three days without food or water, under a hot sun. To force him broken and allowed them to enslave him as form of transportation and no more.
And so the vision had told me what was in store. And that I was not to break. As spirit had not broken. And they took me to an empty holding cell. And they chained the chain around my waist to the bench. And so I could move no longer.
And I had to urinate. And I could see the toilet and could not go. And they brought me a sack lunch. And I threw the sandwich in the toilet. And I ripped apart the apples to collect the seeds. And I realized I had done so to collect the arsenic and kill myself. Yet I swallowed the seeds. It was if I had been possessed.
And time passed slowly. And I could only tell time as I had done so in my cell. The window above me was frosted so one could not see outside. But the sunlight did hit the window. And revealed the passing time. And when I entered the cell the window was blue. And I watched as it slowly turned to dark blue.
And I could not move upon the bench, save for an inch or two. Thus, my body ached unbearably. I had not slept in two days and I could not for another night. I shivered with cold and longed again for my sweatshirt.
I could not comprehend why they should be so harsh. I again was plagued with delusions of crimes I had not committed. And Jesus left while Satan returned to me. And what I longed for most was water. Which was why I had dumped the milk on my head in front of the guard who brought it to me. Where it would later rot. I needed water. I felt as if I would die without it. I had no water since two days prior when my sink was on.
I had never experienced such thirst. And I stared at the sink that was a million miles away. And I sang again the song of Grace but could not for long as my throat was too parched.
It came to pass that my brain would shut down for moments at a time. Wherein each time I would fall forward, and the chains would bite into all of my flesh of my ankles, wrist and waist. And I would awaken in such agony. And I did wish for the release of death. And I believed I would die soon and should die then to save me from more suffering.
And finally I did break and did beg. And all I yelled was water and nothing else. Because then that was all I wanted. I would have signed away my life for just one cup of water. I would admit to any crime for one cup of water.
And I remembered my Grandma dying in my house. And all she did during the night was cry for water and I would awaken from my sleep and take it for her because my brothers and sister would not. And my Mother was too exhausted from work.
And though she had birthed my miraculous Father, she had been wicked toward me while showering my brother with praise and love. And yet I would not allow for her to suffer.
And it came to pass that she finally died when I was 8 years old. I did rejoice because she was no longer my burden and she had been so wicked to me. And I felt her cheek and that it was cold, and I felt happy. And I said unto my mom, she’s so cold and she has always been.
And then I remembered the echoes of her cries for water after she had died, and her spirit was not at rest. And I heard her again and all the evil things she had said to such a young child.
She had told me I had killed my Father and that I was pure evil and that should be thrown out of the world.
And I knew that my entire life I had been good. And that I had followed the rules. And that I had treated my body as a temple. And that I had given as much to the needy as possible l, saving little for myself, though I earned a great deal of money every year.
And I knew I was good. And that I had done no harm to any living creature - even ones that had harmed me. And yet when my wicked Grandma cried out for water, I answered her. But when I cried out for water, no one answered me.
And I saw a black man standing outside my door. As all the guards save two whites women had been black or another race than white. And they had told me to be a good white girl many times. And it felt as if they hated me more than they usually hated drug addicts because of my color.
And he stared at me. For hours. And I screamed at him to stop staring at me and he would not move. And even after I discovered that he was a hallucination, he still stared at me and my heart was full of rage.
And then for a moment I closed my eyes and I slept. And immediately I felt my dog Kimber licking my face. And I smiled and felt as all of this had been a nightmare and I were in my bed. But then I awoke from a shiver and opened my eyes. And I did see my God my Dog run through the metal door.
And I screamed for her to return because there were many wicked people here that they would hurt her. And she did not return. And I heard her call out in pain and all was silent. Thus, I wept and mourned her passing
And as the window turned black my vision would flex from focused to doubled and the world was spinning. Vomit burned in the back of my throat but never came. And when I tried to see out the window of my door, I saw loved ones in chains being forced down the hallway.
And I did believe that they were taken to the torture chambers and tortured in each room. Thus, I could hear each of them screaming in agony as I recognized their voices. And the worst was when I heard my nieces screaming. I mourned the death of all my dog, friends and family. I have never felt such grief and I wept the rest of the water in my body.
I knew that I was to die in this place and wished to suffer no longer. And that my family had suffered and died because of me. Thus, I had nothing left to live for. Again, I turned away from God and is heavenly Son as they had not returned to me in this cell. They had left me to Satan.
And even though the chain around my wrist was so tight it had collected blood in my fist, I pulled against it and it loosened. I nearly broke my hand, but I pulled it out. And Satan not God had loosened it.
I then had enough freedom that I could push my way down the chains and fall off the bench. I did so until my body hung over the bench still chained in four places. But I moved the chain around my waist over my throat and I knew if I fell, I would strangle myself. And I knew if I did fall; I would not be able to stand again, and I would certainly die.
And I knew that the guards only checked my cell herein for suicide once every hour instead of once every 15 minutes. And I hovered there for a long while. Until the cell filled with blinding light. My shaking muscles filled with energy and I pushed myself back upon the bench.
And God nor Jesus spoke a word, but I knew I had nearly forsaken him. And I knew I was withdrawing from my medication and that I might die. But I also knew it was why I was considering such things. Thus, I sang the grace song and forgave myself. And yet God did not return to me for all of three years.
And the night drew on an eternity. With each minute hurting more than the last. Until a guard returned and said onto me, “How did you get so tangled up?”
And I could feel warmth in him. And he did loosen my chains and help me rise slowly. And in the hall were a great many more guards. There were white guards now and they treated me with the same contempt as the black guards had. And they asked me many questions to humiliate me. I know that I said a great deal of strange things and they laughed, and my face burned with shame.
And then one said unto me, what do you see?
And I looked up into his face and was drawn to his striking grey eyes. And I said unto him, my father. And he asked where? And I said, in your eyes. And they laughed no more.
And I did believe my Father's eyes had been given to this man when he died. And that my Father’s eyes gazed upon my torment and could do nothing.
And Rachel and the other woman made me strip again in the cell, but the male guards remained behind them watching. And I was told to stand naked with my hands upon the wall until they left.
I cared not for my nudity. I went to the faucet and turned on the water. I put the faucet in my mouth and filled my stomach with such a flood that it might burst.
A psychiatrist came upon my door. He spoke unto me through the slot where food was placed. I had not the strength to speak much. But I did murmur that all my rights were violated. And that I had been tortured. And he told me not to speak of such nonsense. Though he could see the bruises upon me, the bags under my eyes, and my matted hair. And of course, he realized my smell, even though the metal door.
I did tell him of all the medications I should take and that they were high dosages. I knew that medication should relieve me of the false visions and memories, leaving only the real ones. I knew the nausea, dizziness, and pain would end. And the psychiatrist knew the same.
Yet, he prescribed me one small pill I had never learned of. He moved to another cell as the number of detainees he must see was overbearing. And I knew this would not be enough to save my life from withdrawals. And I did have seizures. And they saw so through the camera and did not come to my aid.
A nurse passed my cell every day. I cried out to her for help. As my entire body had surely been infected with filth. And that I needed medicine to survive. She did not look upon me, but her nose did wrinkle in disgust at my sent.
And it came to pass that the guards did tell me I must fill out a form to see her. And I asked for the form. Again, I was told it would be given later. Alas, it never was given. And I believed I would surely die.
Upon the third day, they collected detainees to take them to court. I said unto a guard I had been there three days and knew not my charges, let alone spoke to a judge. The guard said I was not on the list. I struck the door many times with bruised palms and cried out all the rights that had been violated as he left.
He returned and said I would see a judge. And I dressed. And it was good. I walked out of the cell to be chained. The cell applied constant pressure upon my ears. Then it was gone, and I could breathe again.
We traversed to a building with 50 men and women in jump suits. There were two small rooms where virtual court was held. I sat upon a table where without three days of sleep, I struggled to be consciences but was too uncomfortable to sleep. And I did lose consciousness for moments at a time.
The stench of my body was radiating, and I believed the detainees would see me in contempt. But they asked what I had done, and I said unto them that I drew with chalk on Fremont Street.
And they did believe me as they too had been wronged. Yet they were astounded. And seeing my bagged eyes, matted hair, bruises upon my appendages and the stench they knew what I had suffered thus far.
And one did smell as I did and look as I did. And I asked her why she was there. And she said unto me that it was for a spoon. She too was unable to speak. She showed the paperwork she held. And it said she was with drug paraphernalia and described it as a spoon and rubber band. And I saw the tortured soul in front of me and I asked, this is how they wish to treat drug addiction?
And I knew then what my mission was. I’m that God had known about this inhumanity. And that God had sent many people such as I into this system. And that our job was to experience and expose it. And I filled with strength for this young girl.
She said unto me, I will die in this place. And I said she will survive. And she shook her head and said maybe not this time but eventually. And she was so young. And my heart filled with grief. And I asked her if anyone could retrieve her. And she said that her father had forsaken her.
I knew that my Mom would still help me, had I been allowed to call her once. As I had never done an illegal drug, which meant to the world that I still deserved to be saved. When God intended that all be saved who wished to be. Yet, she did know but was powerless to save me.
I believed my family had assumed I was stolen or dead. If so, I knew they would be relieved of the burden I had placed upon them save my Mother. As I was relieved of my Grandma, they would be relieved of me and rejoice. Thus, I felt no grief for my family at my passing.
The detainees told me I could file complaints against the jail with the kite system.
It came to pass that I was not to see a judge. I spoke to the guard who had taken me and requested kites. With Satan’s tongue he said unto me that he would do so if I went with him.
After a long walk he returned me to my tomb. He stripped me naked and threw me inside. The pressure of the room engulfed my ears and it was impossible to endure.
I yelled at him through the door. He had promised the kites. He winked, and I saw the black eyes of a demon consuming my souls. He wandered off smiling.
It came to pass that on that third day I was with no constitutional or God given rights. I sang my grace song and begged God or Jesus to return. They did not. Satan came.
I am an old friend of Satan. I understand his purpose and that he is not evil but allows it. He is tasked with teaching humanity hard lessons. But he has over stepped his bounds and now does so without the consent of God.
I did not know why he would betray me to Satan in this hour of need. Yet he gave me away to him.
I was defeated and could care no more. I let myself slip into complete insanity, wherein I left my cell and went many places. And I did renounce God and Jesus. And I did hate them for their dishonesty.
I went to Hogwarts where you could step in the toilet and be whisked out of a room. I was told that this place was a torture site. The purpose was to torture people into producing their magical powers.
I did not wish to step directly into the filthy toilet, and so I placed my sleeping bag there and stepped on it. I flushed the toilet. I did swirl into a hidden passage way. And thought it was not happening I did believe it was.
Many will hear this and say I deserved punishment. This was after three days of captivity with the reasons unknown, no contact with the outside (no phone call), psychotic from the torture of being chained to bench dehydrated the night before, and withdrawal from psychotropic medication. Thus, I was no longer responsible as I was helpless to insanity.
I stepped from the toilet as the room filled with water. The cell was a water park. I had much joy and played until I, the smock and sleeping bag were drenched. I also attempted to clean my rotting body.
I dipped my genitals in the puddle of water and relief from the ceaseless burning there did resolve. Then I became cold.
And it came to pass that I would spend the next ten hours in this flooded cell. With a drenched smock, that I could not wear and hide my nudity or shield from any cold. And the water would not evaporate from my skin.
The concrete was ice upon my bear feet. For many hours I walked a small circle as standing was too painful to bare. I was three days without sleep and that night one more was stolen.
I stood on the sink many times in the dive position awaiting the courage to fall my head into the ground. I placed my back against the light there and warmed my back.
The black guard came and demanded me that I should step down. I refused, and he threatened to enter the cell. I did oblige at the end. And this happened many times. And I may have done it and died, but they took no action. And yet I was always moment away from death as I was too cold to stand it. And yet he did not come to my aid. And Jesus did not come either.
The two detainees came to deliver food unto us. When they arrived at my cell, I grabbed the young man’s hand through the slot. He squeezed my hand and it was warm.
The guards demanded that I should let go. And though he had the strength to rip away his hand, he did not try. Then pepper spray can entered my cell from the food slot.
Rachel threatened me with it and let go. My hand was shoved back in the door, but my fingers were caught in the metal when they attempted to close it.
It came to pass that I did break and I renounced God. I heard another call the officer C.O. and he was kinder to them. My voice so harsh and distorted did not sound like my voice. And I spake unto him with no dignity and called him C.O. though he did not deserve a title.
And I did beg of him a dry blanket. And I was told there would be none until the laundry was finished the next day. And I pleaded to all who passed my cell. Yet, if they did stop it was to look upon my naked body and laugh. And I did plead for a roll of toilet paper, as my genitals and bladder were infected with filth. And none would be given. And I did long for soap and toothpaste.
And the window changed color. And I hit my head into the concrete wall many times to escape. I awoke with a gash on my forehead and a broken tooth. And the guard said unto me that had knocked myself the fuck out.
And so even with a grave head injury they would not come to my aid. And on the fourth day the psychiatrist saw my state and had me removed from the cell. As I had been left wet and naked until he arrived. And the only word I spoke to him was Cold. And in my records he does lie and said I had calmed down but makes no mention of the effects of the abuse I suffered,
And I did take a shower where the water ran brown for such a while that I was shocked. And I did have a bed though it was not very warm, I did rejoice in it. And that there were other inmates wandering outside. Playing cards and watching the tv’s. But I had nothing. And yet I was too happy from my removal to be jealous.
And then I understood why the other detainee believed he was on fire. Because my skin was covered in filth for so long it had inflamed by infections. All my skin burned as if I had a terrible sun burn. My lips were in such constant pain I would have done anything for Chapstick. And when I did finally see a nurse on the fourth day, she did say I needed antibiotics, but that I was getting out that night and I would need to see a regular doctor. I begged her for lotion or Vaseline, and she informed me they could only be purchased in commissary and not given as medicine. As my family had not been able to add money to my commissary and I did not have access to it anyways, I had to suffer many hours with burning skin.
And I was told by my public defender that I must plead guilty or that I may not be released for two weeks. And that my crime was expired car registration. And I could not make sense of his words.
But I was insane, scared, and I did plead guilty to a crime I did not commit. As clearly this arrest was a mistake and when they had discovered it, charged me with a ticket I had plead to and I paid four months prior. And the judge did say I had served my time and I was to be released that night. And every hour a guard passed my room I asked if I should be taken from the wretched place.
But it came to pass that I would not be released until the next day. And though clearly psychotic, I was not taken to a hospital, nor was my mother called to collect me. I was dumped in the city among many criminals and God did protect me from them or I would have surely perished there. But I did not feel God as I had renounced Him.
And I was taken to a mental hospital upon release from jail. Wherein my brothers took my stolen dog and relinquished her to the pound. And my brother knew not of my torture nor would he listen. And he did take my Kimber to the Humane Society and told them with Satan's tongue that she belonged to him and that he could care for her no longer. Thus they did not look for me. And they did not call me to know that upon release I would take the best care of her in the world, as they did not know of my existence or the number to the hospital. Thus my family committed their greatest act of betrayal and I could speak to them no longer.
During my 23rd birthday I was left there alone in a mental hospital and my Dog which was my idle of God was forever stolen from me. Wherein I did not celebrate Easter as I had renounced God.
Wherein for two weeks they attempt to convince that all I had experienced was a delusion and that I should turn away from God or never be released from their captivity. Until I admitted God was not real, they would not release me. And now I obliged and said that God was not real and that all I had done was insane and I said that I deserved all that I had been treated. And yet they would not release me.
And it came to pass that I was in captivity for the month before. And then I would be in captivity for two weeks more.
But the hospital had no concern for my safety or my health. As hospitals are owned by the psychiatrists therein. And they do profit from insured patients. And the cast out uninsured patients prematurely. And keep insured ones for as long as the insurance will pay. And they do make larger profits when the beds are full of insured patients. And they do receive larger dividends from these profits.
Where in the conditions are not much better than jail. Where in there are two wards. And many stay in the depressed ward and believe that these hospitals do help and that they are not evil. And that people who say they are evil are in fact crazy.
But they have not seen the psychotic ward. Wherein the doctors do not respect you enough to question you. Wherein group therapy only pertains to personality disorders and substance abuse. Wherein the most vulnerable and abused members of society and forced to live with the most dangerous criminals. Wherein all detainees are treated as if they are drug addicts and the staff are in contempt. Wherein people are kept for weeks without due process and are helpless to be released. Wherein many people lose houses, cars, valuable property, pets and jobs. Wherein many people lose families and spouses. Wherein constitutional rights are subjectively revoked. Wherein their websites and brochures are false advertising. Wherein meek people are introduced to drugs for the first time. Wherein families are lied to and told their loved one only remains sick because they refuse help, not because their help is hurting them. Wherein people are given their first treatment and are left with no ability to trust future doctors and therapists.
And I did turn away from God for three years. And I did forget all we had spoken of. As He had betrayed me. And for those three years I did nothing. In the first year I did nothing at all but gaze at a wall. And I did write my will. And I did write a note on my phone. And my plan was fool proof. But by the grace of God my employee did read the note and turned me to my Mother who did convince me not to die.
And yet I still did not believe in God. And still I went through many more deluded times and many more detentions. As I knew not of the mission any longer. And I did nearly die without intent. I did cut the arteries in my left arm but survived. I carved in a cross, down the road and across the alley to be certain. And I did nearly die from drinking Christ's blood into a great amount one night.
And I did believe a many of things. That my Grandma was in a cult and that they wished to capture me. That the CIA thought I was guilty of great crimes and were monitoring me. That I was in an experimental government program. That ex-boyfriends who were in fact evil would steal me at any moment, which may have been true as one did kill my cat Gimli whom I had loved with all my heart. As after my second hospitalization wherein my family stole my dog, I did meet such a boyfriend. And that he abused me and tricked me into further insanity. And that he has stolen $80,000 from me.
I had many other delusions that resulted in eight more detentions. Wherein I received no or little support from my family. I did believe that demons did follow me and possess others to harm and kill me. That I would be framed for great crimes and locked away forever. That my business was being destroyed by the government or private persons, which may well have been true as it was attacked and destroyed. And many other delusions sprang from these. And I do believe God did let me suffer through them, so I would know all there was to know if insanity. And God did leave me on purpose. And even when he welcomed me back, I would not go, and I would not listen.
And not until he did return unto me last night that I did listen and did I understand the purpose of it all. As I had forgotten all that had started my job. And he did return all such memories to me in just but a moment.
I say unto you; no human being deserves such treatment. Not even one who has abused others in terrible ways. And I have not spoken this story in a quest for sympathy. I proclaim to the world that I Abrianna Peto, did suffer of every abuse discussed herein. And that my story does not matter except into showing through a credible person what the American mental health system truly does. As it does show all the ways which in a non-violent young person can be abused into complete insanity.
I speak nothing but the truth, the whole truth, so help me God. And I will say this under oath with threats to my liberty for lying. And that I will say this though it greatly risks my reputation and I will receive nothing in turn. I have not written this for an ulterior motive than to stop this crime.
And that I have collected a great deal of evidence that will prove my claims. And that hundreds did bear witness to each of the anecdotes described here in. And that throughout the years I had discussed many of the anecdotes and not once did I deviate from the truth in any way. And that all my records attest to all that happened. And that any investigation will leave no doubt that this is true. And that to discard them without reviewing my evidence is apathy, which is a crime against God.
And that there is much more evidence than mine. And that you can ask any therapist or psychiatrist that has not profited from such a place of them. And they will tell you that patients sent to such places often turned hopeless. And that such places only do care of profits and nothing else.
And here I must mention before I continue. That I had many joyous times in the mental hospitals. And I made many friends. And I will likely never see any of them again as we were not allowed to know the full names of others nor give each other ways to contact in the future. And while this story makes all seem negative. But I must say that many people there did bring happiness to my life and that I returned the favor. And that I learned a great deal from such people. And that I am glad I was in every hospital because in each I did connect to at least one wonderful person. I know that I brought great spirit and happiness to the patients therein. And I do wish sometimes to commit myself, just to help those within and have them help me again. And there is such a great deal of stories I have left from this summary that I do hope I will have the strength to share someday, if anyone will care to listen.
I say unto you that I am an honorable person that none have ever proven me to be dishonest. That I do not request any compensation for this from anyone. I say unto you I speak nothing but the truth.
It is that three years from this event on December 25th, 2018, I did speak to God again. I did not speak to God and all I longed for was death for the three years prior.
And when I spoke to God yesterday I was told I had suffered to end all suffering. And that I have an insurmountable task of proving this occurrence to the world. That I can save the Earth from this wickedness. And all my memories of God were returned to my soul. And my heart hated Him no longer. And I did rejoice at Christmas and love Jesus once more. Thus I did write all of these 12,000 words in a single day, guided by God.
And I did see Christmas with my husband’s family for the first time. And I experienced all I had longed for with my family as a child. Wherein my childhood we had a nativity set, but never discussed it. Wherein we worshipped Santa and forgot about Jesus. Wherein I was never told that I am a miracle crafted by God, as all children should be told.
With his family I did experience worshipping Jesus. And enjoying traditions I had longed for all my life. And I did steal away into their bathroom to cry. As I had learned what I did not have for my life before. And God did come to me then and we spoke for a long while.
And God did ask of me forgiveness. As He did turn me away from Him with purpose. And that He did fool me into false invulnerability. And He did not know whether I would survive or come back to sanity or if it would all be for not. And I told him I had forgiven Him long ago. Because I did know my purpose though I did not realize it until that moment. And that I did know that my life was worth sacrificing to end this great evil. Thus, I did not question God any longer.
I say unto you now, this is one the most evil practices in the world. Wherein God will say yes, humans do more horrible things elsewhere. Yet this inhumanity is one of the greatest crimes of all. As this behavior is accepted and encouraged by the state of the freest country. There is no sign of this crime being halted. As the entire public is not aware nor cares to be.
And that this is what occurs when God and state are too separated. And that apathy has made the entire country guilty of this crime. And that this crime is the main cause of our homelessness, substance abuse, and violence. Which we blame on everything else, but for which are truly the causes. And many conceal this truth to press their agendas, which is another great crime.
And that our governance has purposely divided us for profit. And we have been fooled into hating each other. And in this chaos psychopaths can work without consequence. And that society has focused on problems that have no worth.
And that many others have suffered worse than I did and for longer than I. And that millions have died from this. And that the state is systematically removing the meek from the country. And that we have never left the dark ages. And that the “crazies” are treated as the “witches” were but in modern age. Wherein they are deemed to be destructive for existing regardless of the actions that take. And that they are doomed to torture, detentions and put to death for being deemed as such. And that we have changed little since the time of the Salem Witch Trials as only the labels have changed.
That those suffering from this crime are the meek. And they are the ones not afraid to talk with God and proclaim Him to the world. And they are the ones who will work hardest in the right setting. And that casting them from society is a grave mistake. There may or may not be new prophets, but all are condemned by society and we speak with God no longer.
I have spoken with great certainty. But I was only certain of such things as they occurred three years ago. On this day I do not know if the God, Jesus and Father I saw were a hallucination. And while I did touch some, there is such experience as a tactile hallucination. But I say these things unto you to explain my insanity. I do not expect to be believed nor is that the purpose of this writing. And while I have experienced many small miracles while praying to God, He has done little to others to make them believe in me. Aside from other patients in mental hospitals wherein we did experience such great divine events. Yet no one will believe those people nor I. And we do not wish to be believed as those experiences were only meant for us to witness.
Such events may not be possible until I further connect to God again or they were a mass hysteria. If they were reality they were not meant to be seen by any but the tortured souls there to provide them with hope and faith. And so, until and unless God and I work to prove this collaboration to the world, I do not wish to be believed and should not. If the religious revelations bestowed upon me from God, they were only meant for my stewardship. As I have kept much from this writing that humanity is yet ready to hear. And I have been instructed to not share such revelations aside from my stewardship.
Thus, I do question if the divine was involved. If it was it may have been only dark forces leading me into such insanity without the involvement of God. Yet I believe that God will reveal the truth of my questions of insanity through small miracles in the future.
But while the validity of such occurrences is questionable, being tortured and killed for such beliefs is evil. And that I should have spoken to a bishop or a missionary then to resolve of the validity of such experiences long before my second hospitalization and detention in jail. And that I did beg many times to speak to such a person with no success prior to and during these events. And that chance to come back to sanity was stolen from me many times, as it is stolen from many others before they fall into the greatest depths of insanity.
And though the conversation on Christmas was not as outstanding as did not see God but only heard his voice. I do believe that we did speak and that God did give me the task to end this great crime. And only that task. And that this is a revelation in the literal sense: to bring to the worlds attention a crime that they are unaware of. And that this is not a religious revelation but a revelation that is true regardless if God even exists. And that when I prayed to Him on Christmas, He did tell me this but that this anecdote does not matter. And he did say unto me that humanity is at risk for being cast from the Earth and Heaven so He may begin a new creation due to such crimes. And that is not meant to believed but others, but them to understand the gravity of this situation. And that my purpose in life is to only bring these issue to the world attention. Thus, this the only purpose of me writing this and proclaiming it to the world while putting my reputation in grave danger.
The night before the event occurred, I had not thought of God or felt his presence since I was six years old. I had been experiencing strange occurrences and wished to speak with God on them. My friend Erik claimed to have spoken to an Angel about me. He was my closest friend at the time and we had been experiencing a religious delusion together.
The room had filled with such light that all I could see what white around me. And appearing from above was my father who had died when I was three. He asked me if I was angry of his death and I replied that I was. And he said to me that he was not angry.
He told me that his death was for a purpose.
And he spoke to me that before meeting my mother God called had called to him. And He said to him, "You should marry a widow and care for three children, then seed two of your own. And after that, you will die."
The pain for them would be boundless. He did not wish for my mother to fear during the last of his days thus he did not reveal this prophecy to her. He knew that after his death, his two children must be left alone in the world. For their mother would work too hard to ever see them. Their siblings would not feel this pain as they had a different Father than them.
I wept more but then God spoke to me. His voice appeared liken of Morgan Freedom and we all laughed. Apparently, this is a common theme among people with religious hallucinations. He was silhouetted in the blinding white light - wearing a fedora and a business suit.
"Why do you speak this way?" I asked.
And he said it is the tongue I would accept.
And that I should weep the loss of my father and then weep no more.
He said to remember how my Father had always been alive with me. He told me to remember the meetings of my Dad that were taken from me through ridicule of my siblings.
I suddenly had all the memories of my childhood where my Father had been. And I wept with joy as each flashed into my mind in just but a moment. For example, I was in an over crowded swimming pool and there he was in the distance, a huge bald man with round glasses that glinted in the sun. Always with a strap on them to keep them from being lost if they fell off. My father is very distinct looking and I knew it was him, but no one believed me.
God told me that all he does is for a purpose and that now I was protected from all calamity.
And while I was full of grace and respect no harm shall come upon me as I was protected by God and my Father and my Lord.
And He spoke that I did have a mission but that it is yet to be revealed. And I would know when it started.
My father began to speak with me again. He appeared in the room as a person. I could touch his skin and feel his heat pulsing in his chest.
And he told me many things I cannot remember. Things about his life and what he had done before he met my Mom, things I never knew. But I hadn't slept or eaten for days. He said I would forget and I did.
I had written them down immediately after the event. Alas it too was not meant to be remembered as the laptop was later stolen. I do hope that the laptop still exists in the world and that it will be returned one day.
And in great ecstasy I did beg my Brothers to read the text. In which they read one sentence and threw it away. They said to me that I was insane with their eyes though but they did not speak a word.
A dog appeared in his back yard. And god had told me that dog was his name backwards for a great purpose. I fell on the wood of my brother’s kitchen as I ran outside to meet the dog.
Upon entering the day light he had disappeared. I knew I should take my own dog for a walk. And while I did my keys fell onto the earth. I searched for them a long while and then went to bed with a fear that my car would be stolen.
Yet it was not and the next day I began to search again and came upon a sign. It’s said: Found Keys and to call a number.
And as always it was Mormons who came to my aid when my brothers would not. As they had not searched with me when I asked.
Then I felt strong urges to put myself into dangers. To test if they would be to provide aid and safety as God had promised. And He appeared to many times.
I knew the lost and found keys were a sign. There were many signs that filled me were fervent ecstasy. Some of them valid and others not. As I was searching for the mission God had sent me on but not told me of.
And God had done so to make me manic. And through this, God tricked me into starting my mission.
Yet He did urge me to protect my most precious things. The tens of artwork I had drawn in the midst of suffering the year before. And two journals from each of my previous mental hospitalizations. And that if He had not done so, it would all surely have been lost.
I had many stories to tell documented in such work. And He knew it must be protected and I could trust no one.
Then God spoke to me in my head. He said I was to bring it to my first mentor. Christi at Utah’s Hogle Zoo. And it was with great purpose this is across the road from This Is The Place park, which commemorated the Mormon pilgrims first arrival in the state. I brought my portfolio of art there to that holiest of places. And Christi looked at all the art and promised to keep it safe.
The Zoo had many valuable artifacts of deceased animals - their parts preserved and separated. To show all at the Zoo the miracles God had evolved on this Earth.
And I knew locked in that storage was the safest place in all the world for my Art. Especially from my Mother and Brothers whom I could no longer trust.
I searched everywhere knowing I had a mission and trying to hear God’s instructions. Yet all I heard was that there was a mission to pursue and I would know when it occurred.
And so I thought many actions were the beginning of the mission. They were the beginning but not in the way one would expect. As God was going to turn me away. And thus, he made me believe.
And as I put myself in danger many times to test the validity of God my three days after the event. Finally climaxing in me suddenly driving from my brother's house in Utah, back to where I lived in Las Vegas. An hour earlier I had seen a sign that I was to return to Las Vegas and make Amends with Alex, the boyfriend I had dated for two weeks and broke up with immediately before travelling to my brothers.
I was living alone in my house, but I couldn't stand being alone any longer, so I had moved in with my Mom. Alex offered to move in with me so I could go back to my house but he had a stipulation: I had to buy him a car. I had not known him for long, so we had a fight and he broke up with me.
I was already somewhat delusional at this point. In my right mind, I never would have spoken to Alexander Governale, let alone date him. His arms were covered in ugly tattoos, he had several piercings including two in his lips that were so dirty they gave me large pimples in the same area on my lips.
He was also a meth addict supposedly in recovery, but in reality he had never quit smoking meth at all. I had met him inside the mental hospital. Another reason why it is a terrible idea to house vulnerable, gullible, mentally ill patients with personality disordered drug addicts.
The signs from God had told me that he was my soul mate, and that I was to return to him and do his bidding. I was in complete hysteria at this point. My mania was induced by zoloft, making it an extremely severe acute case of psychotic mania.
In my hysteria, I suddenly stopped driving back to my brothers house after spending a day driving around looking for signs. Including going to the Mormon temple and hassling the members. Something came on the radio and through it I heard god voice telling me I must return to Alex.
In my hysteria I did the worst thing I have ever done in my life. I owned a service dog named Kimber. She was a tiny red golden retriever and the love of my life. She had been the only person in my life for the previous three years. I had paid $1200 to the breeder and $700 to a trainer so she could become my service dog.
From that moment on, she was with me 24-7. I couldn't function without her. However, I worked from home and only left my house a few times a week. When I did so I drove short distances. Kimber had very bad car sickness since she was a puppy. She would always throw up multiple times in the car.
I had planned to make ammends with Alex that night and then return back to my brothers house in Utah, and only leave my dog for one day. All day I had been making crazy posts on my snapchat and sending crazy texts, but my family had completely ignored my behavior. Until I started driving back to Las Vegas.
At that point my brother texted me that I could not leave Kimber behind. Very dangerously, I texted while driving. As God had told me he would protect me and I was testing him. My brother was livid and the rest of my family also started to angrily text me. They showed no concern for my wellbeing, only anger for how I was bothering them.
I told my brother that Kimber suffered from sickness, and I didn't want her to experience a round trip car drive of over 13 hours. I would be back the next day. I had already driven a couple of hours, but I told my brother I would turn around and retrieve my dog if he demanded it. But he agreed to keep her for the night, so I continued on.
On the way to Las Vegas, I needed to stop and get gas. I saw a sign for "Leeds" Utah, which was another sign from God, because he was clearly leading me there. I went to a closed gas station, but the pumps were still open. There were detailed instructions on how to pump gas at that particular station, along with other signed warning you to not smoke or use a cell phone while pumping. There were way too many signs in that gas station for a psychotic person to look at.
I completely lost my mind at this point. I tried very hard, but no matter what I did I couldn't get the gas pump to work. I began to believe it was a test from God to prove that he was talking to me. I thought that everyone in my family had actually been tested this way and ended up at the same gas pump. They had been told a special code that they put into the card reader that gave them a special receipt which was actually a VIP pass to the Mormon temple, along with providing me with free gas.
So I began to call my siblings asking for the code. I talked each of their ears off. They all told me I needed to go back to Utah or call my Mom. They wouldn't answer me about the code. Finally I called my Mom. She told me she was going to call the police to have them come help me.
The police arrived and took me to a hotel for the night. The next day my Mom came and picked me up. We started driving back to Las Vegas, and I enthusiastically told her all about the signs, the codes, and the mission to make ammends with Alex. She told me that I was unwell and needed to return to the hospital.
In the end, I agreed to go, because I thought it was another test. If I could prove to the hospital that I was not crazy and really was talking to God, then everyone would believe me. For the first night, I was convinced that Alex and the leader of the Mormon church would arrive at the hospital at any moment to whisk me away to a life of doing art for the Mormon church.
They never came. Then I realized I was locked again in a mental hospital which is a terrible place to be.
I was completely stable on the fifth day and had always complied with my treatment, but I was not released. And even when my psychiatrist and therapist outside of the hospital told them I was ready to be released into their care. And my Mom said I was being harmed more there now than I was being helped, I was not released into their care. In the psychotic ward I had few friends and the rest were criminals that only wished to harm me and drive me into further insanity.
And many prophesied that I would be turned away from God. And that he would allow me a great deal of suffering. And they told me I would become evil. And I said that I never would do such things and that God would never allow me harm. And they told me it was what God told them, but I did not believe.
Upon being released, I brought them a great number of books and the collection of an entire series of movies worth a great deal of money and gave it to them. I talked to them on the phone because they were just as “crazy” as I. God led to believe me this was the mission.
And they said unto me that this place was certainly evil and condemned by demons. And that something had to be done.
And so God appeared to me once more. And He demanded me a strange quest:
To tell my story of the mental hospital with grace and respect and to save my brethren but without a tongue.
And so I did as he demanded. Erik who had assisted me in the past assisted me again. As he had spoken to God and had been demanded to help. And we both knew this. Though we had not much said it to each other, for God had done the talking to both of us. He helped for my car was back in Utah where my Mom had picked me up.
And so Erik drove me to Fremont Street. I told him he should leave and return to me in an hour. And I began upon my task.
I had known how I would tell the story. I brought chalk and drew on the gigantic sidewalk of Fremont street as other performers sang and danced around me. And many stopped and observe as I let my body be possessed with the Holy Ghost and dramatically move with each decisive stroke as I had done with many art pieces in the six months prior.
A man came unto me and he said the police were coming and I must leave this place. And I said in my mind that the police are good and will treat me fairly. But I could not use my tongue, so I shook my head no. And he said that I would go to jail and jail was not a good place. Yet I knew with the spirit I had inside me that I could make any place good, even a jail. And so, I went back to drawing and he stepped back to observe.
The police did come and I tried to communicate my mission but without my tongue as He had demanded. My tongue was but a stone in my mouth I could not move even if I tried. This was actually a side effect of the medications I was put on. As I discovered in future hospitalizations, whenever I was put on a new antipsychotic I would get this side effect and so would any other patient I met. Your tongue would get stuck to the roof of your mouth and it would make it nearly impossible to speak. The little you could speak came out slow and sounded retarded. No doctor ever warned me that this was a side effect, and so I thought it was supernatural.
And they demanded my ID and I did not know I could refuse. And they looked at it and scanned it whispering among themselves a few feet away.
And they then said to me we must go in an alley. As a great number of people had gathered who had watched me draw with the chalk. That did wish that no harm would come upon me. And I was not allowed to complete my drawing though they wished that I would.
And at that time my cousin appeared in the street whom I had only seen a handful of times. And I was not aware she was there nor, did I remember what she looked like. She served God without knowing and had been drawn all the way from Texas to be there at that very moment.
And yet she did betray me. She did not speak to the officer to tell them I was “manic” and great harm would come upon me if arrested. And that I was not a drug addict as they proclaimed but had just been released from a hospital. And no one should be judged or treated differently for addiction. And yet they are. So to be judged as such made humanity harsher towards me.
As drug addicts are immorally judged and treated, and so when I am branded with such a cursed name, I face the same judgement.
And yet she did not say these things. She did not follow us into the alley. The police did not think I was crazy. They believed I was addicted to immoral chemicals. And that I deserved great punishment for harming My Temple given by our Lord and Savior.
And I was immediately arrested. And I asked why? And they did not reply. And I said it again and they began speaking among themselves as if I didn’t exist.
And yet I was so full of joy and faith in God that I shall not be harmed. As I had been shielded many times before.
So that I was driven to the jail and chained to a bench for many hours with no information. Among a possessed man who yelled at me that I was a white. Who yelled at me that I should be raped and murdered.
A woman begged for hours to urinate and yet they would not let her urinate. And I yelled at our captors that this woman must urinate. And that it was truly evil for a woman so scared and out of her mind to not be allowed such a basic right. And finally, she did urinate all around the floor and my socks as my feet were chained there. And that the guards did nothing for a great while. And then they took my socks and I never had them again. I would long for them in the future. My feet would not be washed from her urine for five days hence.
I still believed God will protect me though I could not feel his presence in that place. I knew that I must remain full of positive love and grace; and if I did so no one would hurt me.
And during the many hours there I began to sing. And drowned out the sounds of the wicked and fill the room with beauty. And no one told me to stop. I did sing until my throat was raw and I asked for water. And after a while they did give it unto me while they did not give it to others. And they liked me singing and I was glad to bring them joy.
And then finally they retrieved me and took me unto a nurse. And she asked me many questions of my health. And I told her I was dependent on a great deal of antipsychotic and mood stabilizers and that I did need my medication, or my life would be at stake. As one is more insane in withdrawals than they could be naturally.
And she told me a psychiatrist would come the next day. And I was full of love and faith and so I believed her and spoke no more. But I had not taken my medication that morning and had already missed one more dose there. And I was beginning to feel the world become chaotic around me. As it would become more chaotic than ever in withdrawals, then with never having them at all.
Again I asked the guard what my charges were. But he said I would be told later. Again, I asked for my phone call and they said I would have it later. And then they put me in a cell without any other cell mates. It was a holding cell and therefore only had a bench and no bed, but a cot. Outside my doors all the other inmates were caged with phones in the centre of the room.
And I was never allowed to have one phone call as I was not released from my cell as they were. And a great deal of fear fell upon me in the night. And I believed my family did not know where I was. Unbeknownst to me my cousin had told them, and they did know.
And my Mother did care. And she called the jail asking for me many times and they would give her no information. She drove to the jail and yet they would not speak with her. She spent many hours in the parking lot a few hundred yards from my cell, unable to do anything to release my suffering.
And Satan started speaking to me for the first time. I saw him in the eyes of the guards and the other detainees. He told me what God had in store for me.
And he made my body scream in agony of pain as if I was burning alive.
God had turned me away and left me to Satan.
Who in turn told me it was him all along. And that all I had done was simply to hurt myself. And that I was amusing and that was all.
And he showed me visions. He demsnded, look at the horrible things you have done. And I looked. And I saw it was Christmas and my nieces’ bodies lay mutilated in the snow. And that I held a knife and had butchered my sister moments prior.
And I knew that I had hate it my heart for her. Because she was the leader among my brothers who had turned me against God and sought to leave my childhood in ruins.
And I knew that I ought to love her because I loved my nieces so. But how could this rage at my sister cause me to consume my nieces?
And I knew it must have happened. And that I was in jail to suffer for my crimes. And I knew the worst punishment were my memories of bearing Emma for all her life.
That I had sought to have more fun with her than my sister had. That I had let my arms break with her heaviness as I walked her around the house crying from birth to six months of age. And that she always cried. Yet I would never let her cry alone. Thus, I held her.
And one day the work was realized. As she suddenly stopped crying and I looked upon her miraculous face. And she peered into my soul and smiled for the first time. And it was the most beautiful sight I will have in this lifetime. But I had snuffed this innocence out.
And I forgot as God intended, I did that he had demanded I never violate my Temple and snuff out my own life. And yet in grief I could not remember this and tied a towel around my neck. And I hung myself on the edge of the cot. And lay there until I could breathe no more.
And as my head was collapsed in pressure the guards did enter the cell. And the yanked upon my body as if to break my neck as I hoped they would, though it hurt. And they untied my neck and ripped my body from the concrete.
And they said unto me, now you will go to suicide watch. And asked if I knew what that meant. And I did not respond because I knew not. And another guard said of course she does. She has certainly been there before.
And I said unto them, I had never been in jail before and I knew not why I was there and I had not had a phone call. And they laughed and said you know what to do. And I was led to a white concrete cell. That was empty save for a toilet, sink and suicide smock on the floor. And they stripped me naked. And their eyes burned upon my naked flesh which few had seen.
And they told me to not be naked any further I must wear the suicide smock. They laughed and said I wanted to be naked. And yet I did not want to even move. Thus I was frozen.
Yet I grew cold in the late winter air. And so, felt the camera in the corner of the room more than anything. And that people were filming me naked and I knew not what they did with such videos.
And so I picked up the smock. I inspected it and found it was cut into different shapes with velcro in many places. And as I stood there naked, I said this is not a puzzle I can solve.
And they said unto me again, I had been there before and I knew what to do. And then I believed them. As if my entire life was a delusion. And I had been in jail many times with no memory.
And Satan did say yes that was true and yes, I belonged to be humiliated in this way. Thus, I placed the thick polyester upon myself and stuck the Velcro into different places, yet I did not do it correctly.
Much of my flesh was exposed to the cold and watching eyes. And I looked foolish. And my long hair was caught and mangled in the Velcro. And now with so much time in captivity it began to turn into a matte.
And I begged for a hair tie or a brush to save my hair which I had worked all my life to make it so long, smooth and glimmering with life. And I was given nothing.
And many hours passed where I had nothing to do. All I wished for was a pencil and paper to remain sane. And had I been given none that followed would have happened. I meditated for hours as the Buddha had taught me and began to forgive my captives for such transgressions.
I saw upon the walls much graffiti was pierced with by pencils. And I asked why I was not allowed a pencil when I would not do such a thing, as I would never have risked it taken away.
And there could be no sleeping. There was a piece of thick polyester on the floor that was labeled a suicide sleeping bag. I discovered it was meant to be folded it in half. However, with it under me I was too cold to bare and the floor was too hard.
Thus, not even sleep could make the time pass. And time did pass slowly. But I sat as the Buddha did and meditated. Save awoken from my trance when the guard walked past my cell every fifteen minutes to scan a bar. The machine he held would beep a few times and then grow fainter as he did again for each cell. And to this day I do hear that beeping. And it awakens me from my sleep. And it brings me back to that place when I hear it.
The hallway did stretch into an eternity. So many souls were here tortured, scared, bored and angry. And they did yell and scream. And hit and kick their doors. And I could feel the demons feeding around me and bringing more harm to these souls.
It came to pass that my cell filled with light. Where in Jesus did appear before me.
He did not blind me as God had. And I saw him as a man I could touch. And he said I could touch his hand to know it was true.
And I said that I did love him and always had believed in him. As my father had told me to. And all though I had forgotten the conversations, my love for Jesus was permanently stowed upon my soul because of my Father.
But that I had to pretend not all my life to be safe from the ridicule of my family. And sometimes I had convinced myself to be safe at the worst of times. And that I could not be forgiven for betraying him. And yet he forgave.
Where in Jesus came upon me and we had a joyful time and then told me all that I had believed in jail was a lie. And that I had never been before. And that I had never killed an innocent in my life. And then he was gone, and the hall was filled with darkness though the fluorescent lights never stopped their constant glow that made my brain throb.
And I filled with rage at my captors and Satan who had convinced me to violate His laws and snuff out my own life. The Satan that was worshipped here. And I hit my hand with great force on the window in the door. And that my hands turned bright red and I was certain they should break.
And I told the passing guards I had not had my phone call. I had been for almost two days without a phone call. And that I did not know what my charges were. And save for the first nurse, no one had acknowledged my existence.
And when they said nothing, I hit my hand upon the door again. And I was so filled with rage that I would not have known if my hands did break.
And a man some cells away from me screamed in agony. He said that his cell was on fire. And that he was burning in great agony. And they must remove him from his cell or he would surely die. And many times, did they go to his cell because he had done things I knew not.
And they tore him from his cell before and returned him several hours later where he screamed even more of the flames inside his cell. And I wished I could go upon him with Jesus and soothe the wounds that burned him. And to release his soul from these captives. No matter what he had done to arrive therein.
And as I heard other screaming, some drowned, some electrocuted, I thought I was not in jail, but a torturing facility. And I thought each cell was a particular torture growing worse to the last cells of the hall. And that I would proceed through all the cells to be tortured in each way until finally I was to be slain.
And then I began to scream with all my strength. I screamed with blood collecting in my throat. I screamed until nothing, but air would come out as my vocal chords had broken. The guards did not acknowledge me.
And I had sang a great deal in the two days prior but now I could not do so anymore. And they did nothing to my screaming. Thus I took the only item in my cell, the roll of toilet paper. And I soaked it in the sink. And I mashed it into pieces.
And as I threw it at the camera, so they would have to acknowledge my cell, I left the jail. And the walls disappeared behind me and I was throwing a snowball at my childhood friend Max.
And I did laugh and throw more in rejoice with mine arms that had turned into the arms of a child. Yet the toilet paper would not stick. I looked upon the meal of a burger they had left and realized it would stick. And so I mashed the meat with the toilet paper until the camera was covered.
And then the guards did come and stand at my cell, ridiculing me and discussing if they should clean my cell. And they decided no, and one named Rachel said she made her mess and let her sit in it.
And I wanted to appear strong. Thus, I sat on my sleeping bag with paper and food bits all around me. And the roaring of nothing to occupy my mind was silenced. As I meditated once more.
And they no longer brought me trays of food. They brought a paper bag with a bologna sandwich and an apple three times daily. And I awaited Gods return but He would not come.
And there were detainees who had brought me trays of food three time daily in the past. And they had nodded at and acknowledged me. And I saw in their eyes even though they were criminals that they wept for me. And the best part of my days was to see them and nod at them and smile. And that too was taken from me. For now only a guard would come upon my cell with food.
And when they had brought me trays of food the water they gave was mixed with soap and a carton of milk was given for hydration. I did not drink milk, so I dumped it out. And they did not bring any other water. And so I drank from the sink and saved a carton of milk to use as a cup. When they began giving me sacked lunches, the soap was no longer delivered.
And I did not know that the soap was brought for cleaning. And I did believe they were dehydrating me with great purpose.
I was positioned closely to their desk. And I could hear the computer when they played music and watched videos. And I could barely see the computer if I looked at an angle that hurt my eyes.
And instead of helping detainees as I have their basic rights fulfilled, as I had been there two days without a phone call nor being told what my charges were, they did surf the web. And they looked up the private records of criminals to humiliate them. And when I begged them to look up my record, they finally acknowledged me and said that they had seen my file and there were no records yet.
And I did not know the charges against me and neither did they, yet they continued to punish and abuse me. And I saw them look up my records on the computer, wherein there was a picture of me smiling, and there was no information on the computer beside my picture.
And once they played music from beauty and the beast. And I had a vision of being in that hall dancing. And I did dance with the beast in a perfect waltz which I had not known before how to do. And I realized they were watching me. And they had not played the music to amuse me but to humiliate me.
I needed to relieve my bladder. After I did so, I realized there was no longer any toilet paper in my cell. I sat there for a long while deciding what I should do without begging the guards.
And I decided I should wash myself with water from the sink, though there was no soap or method to dry myself in the cold cell. But when I turned on my sink no water came and when I flushed the toilet no water left.
Hours passed on the sealed room began to rot with old food. I had to release the contents of my colon and I could not wash my hands, flush the toilet or wipe myself. More filth did rot upon my body. The stench of the rotting food and the toilet covered the sealed room.
I became thirsty and asked a guard why there was no water to my cell. And he said unto me that it was broken. Thus I asked him again for water and he walked away.
And so in desperation I sucked the last of the water out of the pipe with my lips upon the filthy faucet. And I believed the water was from another cell that would be electrocuted every time I drank water as I always heard her scream when I drank. Yet it was good, so I drank. And I turned from God by allowing another to be tortured for my needs.
There was rotting food in my hair from throwing it around. My hair became a thick matte, and I could barely see around it as it stuck to my head.
I was brought a carton of milk with my next meal. It did not quench my thirst, but it did soothe my broken throat and vocal chords. My voice returned, and I was able to sing again. And I asked Jesus to return to me. And I sang for Him this song over and over. And I knew He was with me.
In my weakest moment I see You
Shaking Your head in disgrace
I can read the disappointment
Written all over Your face
Here come those whispers in my ear
Saying, “who do you think you are?”
Looks like you're on your own from here
‘Cause grace could never reach that far
But in the shadow of that shame
Beat down by all the blame
I hear You call my name saying it's not over
And my heart starts to beat so loud now
Drowning out the doubt
I'm down, but I'm not out
There's a war between guilt and grace
And they're fighting for a sacred space
But I'm living proof
Grace wins every time
No more lying down in death's defeat
Now I'm rising up in victory
Singing, hallelujah
Grace wins every time
Words can't describe the way it feels
When mercy floods a thirsty soul
The broke inside begins to heal
And grace returns what guilty stole
And in the shadow of that shame
Beat down by all the blame
I hear You call my name saying it's not over
And my heart starts to beat so loud now
Drowning out the doubt
I'm down, but I'm not out
There's a war between guilt and grace
And they're fighting for a sacred space
But I'm living proof
Grace wins every time
No more lying down in death's defeat
Now I'm rising up in victory
Singing, hallelujah
Grace wins every time
For the prodigal son
Grace wins
For the woman at the well
Grace wins
For the blind man and the beggar
Grace wins
For always and forever
Grace wins
For the lost out on the streets
Grace wins
For the worst part of you and me
Grace wins
For the thief on the cross
Grace wins
For a world that is lost
There's a war between guilt and grace
And they're fighting for a sacred space
But I'm living proof
Grace wins every time
No more lying down in death's defeat
Now I'm rising up in victory
Singing, hallelujah
Grace wins every time, every time
Yeah, I'm living proof
Grace wins every time
And as I sang it I had a vast amount of visions. And I acted them out and did dance. And the concrete did not hurt me as I rolled over my head and onto the ground many times. So many visions of such variety that I cannot describe them now without a great deal of meditation.
I did see Jesus upon his cross and remembered he and others had suffer so much more than I. And that I should not break and not let the guards take away my honor and grace.
And my voice did echo in the room sealed with rot. And the guards did not like that I was not broken. Thus they finally did come upon my cell. And they told me to stand naked with my hands upon the wall in front of me.
And Jesus had told me not to feel shame. And that these people will be plagued with memories of torturing innocent souls when the know what they had done. And that I should feel sorrow for them and not myself.
And so they threw my orange jumpsuit at me and I followed all instructions to wear it. And they put chains upon my wrists and ankles, so tightly they cut the blood from my appendages and they began to swell. And then they placed a chain around my waist and chained my wrists and ankles to this.
Before I had been in suicide watch they had given me a sweatshirt to wear under the jumpsuit. I saw it piled on the floor with my rubber sandals. And I longed for it because I had not slept and was cold for two days.
There in, Rachel pushed me, and I fell with no way to catch myself. She held the chain at my waist and so all my weight fell upon the chains on my wrists. And the pain burst white hot radiating through my body and I uttered the word ouch.
And the women mocked me and said ouch dramatically and my cheeks did burn with helplessness. That I vowed to never cry out in front of them again.
And then they paraded me down the long hallway. My ankles were chained so tightly that I could not stand flat footed. As the tendon in my ankle could not flex without being sharply bitten by metal. I did not speak, but I did smile. As I felt Jesus with me, giving me strength.
And they said unto me. You are going to The Bench. And I felt as if I was the horse from the movie Spirit. When he was chained to a post for three days without food or water, under a hot sun. To force him broken and allowed them to enslave him as form of transportation and no more.
And so the vision had told me what was in store. And that I was not to break. As spirit had not broken. And they took me to an empty holding cell. And they chained the chain around my waist to the bench. And so I could move no longer.
And I had to urinate. And I could see the toilet and could not go. And they brought me a sack lunch. And I threw the sandwich in the toilet. And I ripped apart the apples to collect the seeds. And I realized I had done so to collect the arsenic and kill myself. Yet I swallowed the seeds. It was if I had been possessed.
And time passed slowly. And I could only tell time as I had done so in my cell. The window above me was frosted so one could not see outside. But the sunlight did hit the window. And revealed the passing time. And when I entered the cell the window was blue. And I watched as it slowly turned to dark blue.
And I could not move upon the bench, save for an inch or two. Thus, my body ached unbearably. I had not slept in two days and I could not for another night. I shivered with cold and longed again for my sweatshirt.
I could not comprehend why they should be so harsh. I again was plagued with delusions of crimes I had not committed. And Jesus left while Satan returned to me. And what I longed for most was water. Which was why I had dumped the milk on my head in front of the guard who brought it to me. Where it would later rot. I needed water. I felt as if I would die without it. I had no water since two days prior when my sink was on.
I had never experienced such thirst. And I stared at the sink that was a million miles away. And I sang again the song of Grace but could not for long as my throat was too parched.
It came to pass that my brain would shut down for moments at a time. Wherein each time I would fall forward, and the chains would bite into all of my flesh of my ankles, wrist and waist. And I would awaken in such agony. And I did wish for the release of death. And I believed I would die soon and should die then to save me from more suffering.
And finally I did break and did beg. And all I yelled was water and nothing else. Because then that was all I wanted. I would have signed away my life for just one cup of water. I would admit to any crime for one cup of water.
And I remembered my Grandma dying in my house. And all she did during the night was cry for water and I would awaken from my sleep and take it for her because my brothers and sister would not. And my Mother was too exhausted from work.
And though she had birthed my miraculous Father, she had been wicked toward me while showering my brother with praise and love. And yet I would not allow for her to suffer.
And it came to pass that she finally died when I was 8 years old. I did rejoice because she was no longer my burden and she had been so wicked to me. And I felt her cheek and that it was cold, and I felt happy. And I said unto my mom, she’s so cold and she has always been.
And then I remembered the echoes of her cries for water after she had died, and her spirit was not at rest. And I heard her again and all the evil things she had said to such a young child.
She had told me I had killed my Father and that I was pure evil and that should be thrown out of the world.
And I knew that my entire life I had been good. And that I had followed the rules. And that I had treated my body as a temple. And that I had given as much to the needy as possible l, saving little for myself, though I earned a great deal of money every year.
And I knew I was good. And that I had done no harm to any living creature - even ones that had harmed me. And yet when my wicked Grandma cried out for water, I answered her. But when I cried out for water, no one answered me.
And I saw a black man standing outside my door. As all the guards save two whites women had been black or another race than white. And they had told me to be a good white girl many times. And it felt as if they hated me more than they usually hated drug addicts because of my color.
And he stared at me. For hours. And I screamed at him to stop staring at me and he would not move. And even after I discovered that he was a hallucination, he still stared at me and my heart was full of rage.
And then for a moment I closed my eyes and I slept. And immediately I felt my dog Kimber licking my face. And I smiled and felt as all of this had been a nightmare and I were in my bed. But then I awoke from a shiver and opened my eyes. And I did see my God my Dog run through the metal door.
And I screamed for her to return because there were many wicked people here that they would hurt her. And she did not return. And I heard her call out in pain and all was silent. Thus, I wept and mourned her passing
And as the window turned black my vision would flex from focused to doubled and the world was spinning. Vomit burned in the back of my throat but never came. And when I tried to see out the window of my door, I saw loved ones in chains being forced down the hallway.
And I did believe that they were taken to the torture chambers and tortured in each room. Thus, I could hear each of them screaming in agony as I recognized their voices. And the worst was when I heard my nieces screaming. I mourned the death of all my dog, friends and family. I have never felt such grief and I wept the rest of the water in my body.
I knew that I was to die in this place and wished to suffer no longer. And that my family had suffered and died because of me. Thus, I had nothing left to live for. Again, I turned away from God and is heavenly Son as they had not returned to me in this cell. They had left me to Satan.
And even though the chain around my wrist was so tight it had collected blood in my fist, I pulled against it and it loosened. I nearly broke my hand, but I pulled it out. And Satan not God had loosened it.
I then had enough freedom that I could push my way down the chains and fall off the bench. I did so until my body hung over the bench still chained in four places. But I moved the chain around my waist over my throat and I knew if I fell, I would strangle myself. And I knew if I did fall; I would not be able to stand again, and I would certainly die.
And I knew that the guards only checked my cell herein for suicide once every hour instead of once every 15 minutes. And I hovered there for a long while. Until the cell filled with blinding light. My shaking muscles filled with energy and I pushed myself back upon the bench.
And God nor Jesus spoke a word, but I knew I had nearly forsaken him. And I knew I was withdrawing from my medication and that I might die. But I also knew it was why I was considering such things. Thus, I sang the grace song and forgave myself. And yet God did not return to me for all of three years.
And the night drew on an eternity. With each minute hurting more than the last. Until a guard returned and said onto me, “How did you get so tangled up?”
And I could feel warmth in him. And he did loosen my chains and help me rise slowly. And in the hall were a great many more guards. There were white guards now and they treated me with the same contempt as the black guards had. And they asked me many questions to humiliate me. I know that I said a great deal of strange things and they laughed, and my face burned with shame.
And then one said unto me, what do you see?
And I looked up into his face and was drawn to his striking grey eyes. And I said unto him, my father. And he asked where? And I said, in your eyes. And they laughed no more.
And I did believe my Father's eyes had been given to this man when he died. And that my Father’s eyes gazed upon my torment and could do nothing.
And Rachel and the other woman made me strip again in the cell, but the male guards remained behind them watching. And I was told to stand naked with my hands upon the wall until they left.
I cared not for my nudity. I went to the faucet and turned on the water. I put the faucet in my mouth and filled my stomach with such a flood that it might burst.
A psychiatrist came upon my door. He spoke unto me through the slot where food was placed. I had not the strength to speak much. But I did murmur that all my rights were violated. And that I had been tortured. And he told me not to speak of such nonsense. Though he could see the bruises upon me, the bags under my eyes, and my matted hair. And of course, he realized my smell, even though the metal door.
I did tell him of all the medications I should take and that they were high dosages. I knew that medication should relieve me of the false visions and memories, leaving only the real ones. I knew the nausea, dizziness, and pain would end. And the psychiatrist knew the same.
Yet, he prescribed me one small pill I had never learned of. He moved to another cell as the number of detainees he must see was overbearing. And I knew this would not be enough to save my life from withdrawals. And I did have seizures. And they saw so through the camera and did not come to my aid.
A nurse passed my cell every day. I cried out to her for help. As my entire body had surely been infected with filth. And that I needed medicine to survive. She did not look upon me, but her nose did wrinkle in disgust at my sent.
And it came to pass that the guards did tell me I must fill out a form to see her. And I asked for the form. Again, I was told it would be given later. Alas, it never was given. And I believed I would surely die.
Upon the third day, they collected detainees to take them to court. I said unto a guard I had been there three days and knew not my charges, let alone spoke to a judge. The guard said I was not on the list. I struck the door many times with bruised palms and cried out all the rights that had been violated as he left.
He returned and said I would see a judge. And I dressed. And it was good. I walked out of the cell to be chained. The cell applied constant pressure upon my ears. Then it was gone, and I could breathe again.
We traversed to a building with 50 men and women in jump suits. There were two small rooms where virtual court was held. I sat upon a table where without three days of sleep, I struggled to be consciences but was too uncomfortable to sleep. And I did lose consciousness for moments at a time.
The stench of my body was radiating, and I believed the detainees would see me in contempt. But they asked what I had done, and I said unto them that I drew with chalk on Fremont Street.
And they did believe me as they too had been wronged. Yet they were astounded. And seeing my bagged eyes, matted hair, bruises upon my appendages and the stench they knew what I had suffered thus far.
And one did smell as I did and look as I did. And I asked her why she was there. And she said unto me that it was for a spoon. She too was unable to speak. She showed the paperwork she held. And it said she was with drug paraphernalia and described it as a spoon and rubber band. And I saw the tortured soul in front of me and I asked, this is how they wish to treat drug addiction?
And I knew then what my mission was. I’m that God had known about this inhumanity. And that God had sent many people such as I into this system. And that our job was to experience and expose it. And I filled with strength for this young girl.
She said unto me, I will die in this place. And I said she will survive. And she shook her head and said maybe not this time but eventually. And she was so young. And my heart filled with grief. And I asked her if anyone could retrieve her. And she said that her father had forsaken her.
I knew that my Mom would still help me, had I been allowed to call her once. As I had never done an illegal drug, which meant to the world that I still deserved to be saved. When God intended that all be saved who wished to be. Yet, she did know but was powerless to save me.
I believed my family had assumed I was stolen or dead. If so, I knew they would be relieved of the burden I had placed upon them save my Mother. As I was relieved of my Grandma, they would be relieved of me and rejoice. Thus, I felt no grief for my family at my passing.
The detainees told me I could file complaints against the jail with the kite system.
It came to pass that I was not to see a judge. I spoke to the guard who had taken me and requested kites. With Satan’s tongue he said unto me that he would do so if I went with him.
After a long walk he returned me to my tomb. He stripped me naked and threw me inside. The pressure of the room engulfed my ears and it was impossible to endure.
I yelled at him through the door. He had promised the kites. He winked, and I saw the black eyes of a demon consuming my souls. He wandered off smiling.
It came to pass that on that third day I was with no constitutional or God given rights. I sang my grace song and begged God or Jesus to return. They did not. Satan came.
I am an old friend of Satan. I understand his purpose and that he is not evil but allows it. He is tasked with teaching humanity hard lessons. But he has over stepped his bounds and now does so without the consent of God.
I did not know why he would betray me to Satan in this hour of need. Yet he gave me away to him.
I was defeated and could care no more. I let myself slip into complete insanity, wherein I left my cell and went many places. And I did renounce God and Jesus. And I did hate them for their dishonesty.
I went to Hogwarts where you could step in the toilet and be whisked out of a room. I was told that this place was a torture site. The purpose was to torture people into producing their magical powers.
I did not wish to step directly into the filthy toilet, and so I placed my sleeping bag there and stepped on it. I flushed the toilet. I did swirl into a hidden passage way. And thought it was not happening I did believe it was.
Many will hear this and say I deserved punishment. This was after three days of captivity with the reasons unknown, no contact with the outside (no phone call), psychotic from the torture of being chained to bench dehydrated the night before, and withdrawal from psychotropic medication. Thus, I was no longer responsible as I was helpless to insanity.
I stepped from the toilet as the room filled with water. The cell was a water park. I had much joy and played until I, the smock and sleeping bag were drenched. I also attempted to clean my rotting body.
I dipped my genitals in the puddle of water and relief from the ceaseless burning there did resolve. Then I became cold.
And it came to pass that I would spend the next ten hours in this flooded cell. With a drenched smock, that I could not wear and hide my nudity or shield from any cold. And the water would not evaporate from my skin.
The concrete was ice upon my bear feet. For many hours I walked a small circle as standing was too painful to bare. I was three days without sleep and that night one more was stolen.
I stood on the sink many times in the dive position awaiting the courage to fall my head into the ground. I placed my back against the light there and warmed my back.
The black guard came and demanded me that I should step down. I refused, and he threatened to enter the cell. I did oblige at the end. And this happened many times. And I may have done it and died, but they took no action. And yet I was always moment away from death as I was too cold to stand it. And yet he did not come to my aid. And Jesus did not come either.
The two detainees came to deliver food unto us. When they arrived at my cell, I grabbed the young man’s hand through the slot. He squeezed my hand and it was warm.
The guards demanded that I should let go. And though he had the strength to rip away his hand, he did not try. Then pepper spray can entered my cell from the food slot.
Rachel threatened me with it and let go. My hand was shoved back in the door, but my fingers were caught in the metal when they attempted to close it.
It came to pass that I did break and I renounced God. I heard another call the officer C.O. and he was kinder to them. My voice so harsh and distorted did not sound like my voice. And I spake unto him with no dignity and called him C.O. though he did not deserve a title.
And I did beg of him a dry blanket. And I was told there would be none until the laundry was finished the next day. And I pleaded to all who passed my cell. Yet, if they did stop it was to look upon my naked body and laugh. And I did plead for a roll of toilet paper, as my genitals and bladder were infected with filth. And none would be given. And I did long for soap and toothpaste.
And the window changed color. And I hit my head into the concrete wall many times to escape. I awoke with a gash on my forehead and a broken tooth. And the guard said unto me that had knocked myself the fuck out.
And so even with a grave head injury they would not come to my aid. And on the fourth day the psychiatrist saw my state and had me removed from the cell. As I had been left wet and naked until he arrived. And the only word I spoke to him was Cold. And in my records he does lie and said I had calmed down but makes no mention of the effects of the abuse I suffered,
And I did take a shower where the water ran brown for such a while that I was shocked. And I did have a bed though it was not very warm, I did rejoice in it. And that there were other inmates wandering outside. Playing cards and watching the tv’s. But I had nothing. And yet I was too happy from my removal to be jealous.
And then I understood why the other detainee believed he was on fire. Because my skin was covered in filth for so long it had inflamed by infections. All my skin burned as if I had a terrible sun burn. My lips were in such constant pain I would have done anything for Chapstick. And when I did finally see a nurse on the fourth day, she did say I needed antibiotics, but that I was getting out that night and I would need to see a regular doctor. I begged her for lotion or Vaseline, and she informed me they could only be purchased in commissary and not given as medicine. As my family had not been able to add money to my commissary and I did not have access to it anyways, I had to suffer many hours with burning skin.
And I was told by my public defender that I must plead guilty or that I may not be released for two weeks. And that my crime was expired car registration. And I could not make sense of his words.
But I was insane, scared, and I did plead guilty to a crime I did not commit. As clearly this arrest was a mistake and when they had discovered it, charged me with a ticket I had plead to and I paid four months prior. And the judge did say I had served my time and I was to be released that night. And every hour a guard passed my room I asked if I should be taken from the wretched place.
But it came to pass that I would not be released until the next day. And though clearly psychotic, I was not taken to a hospital, nor was my mother called to collect me. I was dumped in the city among many criminals and God did protect me from them or I would have surely perished there. But I did not feel God as I had renounced Him.
And I was taken to a mental hospital upon release from jail. Wherein my brothers took my stolen dog and relinquished her to the pound. And my brother knew not of my torture nor would he listen. And he did take my Kimber to the Humane Society and told them with Satan's tongue that she belonged to him and that he could care for her no longer. Thus they did not look for me. And they did not call me to know that upon release I would take the best care of her in the world, as they did not know of my existence or the number to the hospital. Thus my family committed their greatest act of betrayal and I could speak to them no longer.
During my 23rd birthday I was left there alone in a mental hospital and my Dog which was my idle of God was forever stolen from me. Wherein I did not celebrate Easter as I had renounced God.
Wherein for two weeks they attempt to convince that all I had experienced was a delusion and that I should turn away from God or never be released from their captivity. Until I admitted God was not real, they would not release me. And now I obliged and said that God was not real and that all I had done was insane and I said that I deserved all that I had been treated. And yet they would not release me.
And it came to pass that I was in captivity for the month before. And then I would be in captivity for two weeks more.
But the hospital had no concern for my safety or my health. As hospitals are owned by the psychiatrists therein. And they do profit from insured patients. And the cast out uninsured patients prematurely. And keep insured ones for as long as the insurance will pay. And they do make larger profits when the beds are full of insured patients. And they do receive larger dividends from these profits.
Where in the conditions are not much better than jail. Where in there are two wards. And many stay in the depressed ward and believe that these hospitals do help and that they are not evil. And that people who say they are evil are in fact crazy.
But they have not seen the psychotic ward. Wherein the doctors do not respect you enough to question you. Wherein group therapy only pertains to personality disorders and substance abuse. Wherein the most vulnerable and abused members of society and forced to live with the most dangerous criminals. Wherein all detainees are treated as if they are drug addicts and the staff are in contempt. Wherein people are kept for weeks without due process and are helpless to be released. Wherein many people lose houses, cars, valuable property, pets and jobs. Wherein many people lose families and spouses. Wherein constitutional rights are subjectively revoked. Wherein their websites and brochures are false advertising. Wherein meek people are introduced to drugs for the first time. Wherein families are lied to and told their loved one only remains sick because they refuse help, not because their help is hurting them. Wherein people are given their first treatment and are left with no ability to trust future doctors and therapists.
And I did turn away from God for three years. And I did forget all we had spoken of. As He had betrayed me. And for those three years I did nothing. In the first year I did nothing at all but gaze at a wall. And I did write my will. And I did write a note on my phone. And my plan was fool proof. But by the grace of God my employee did read the note and turned me to my Mother who did convince me not to die.
And yet I still did not believe in God. And still I went through many more deluded times and many more detentions. As I knew not of the mission any longer. And I did nearly die without intent. I did cut the arteries in my left arm but survived. I carved in a cross, down the road and across the alley to be certain. And I did nearly die from drinking Christ's blood into a great amount one night.
And I did believe a many of things. That my Grandma was in a cult and that they wished to capture me. That the CIA thought I was guilty of great crimes and were monitoring me. That I was in an experimental government program. That ex-boyfriends who were in fact evil would steal me at any moment, which may have been true as one did kill my cat Gimli whom I had loved with all my heart. As after my second hospitalization wherein my family stole my dog, I did meet such a boyfriend. And that he abused me and tricked me into further insanity. And that he has stolen $80,000 from me.
I had many other delusions that resulted in eight more detentions. Wherein I received no or little support from my family. I did believe that demons did follow me and possess others to harm and kill me. That I would be framed for great crimes and locked away forever. That my business was being destroyed by the government or private persons, which may well have been true as it was attacked and destroyed. And many other delusions sprang from these. And I do believe God did let me suffer through them, so I would know all there was to know if insanity. And God did leave me on purpose. And even when he welcomed me back, I would not go, and I would not listen.
And not until he did return unto me last night that I did listen and did I understand the purpose of it all. As I had forgotten all that had started my job. And he did return all such memories to me in just but a moment.
I say unto you; no human being deserves such treatment. Not even one who has abused others in terrible ways. And I have not spoken this story in a quest for sympathy. I proclaim to the world that I Abrianna Peto, did suffer of every abuse discussed herein. And that my story does not matter except into showing through a credible person what the American mental health system truly does. As it does show all the ways which in a non-violent young person can be abused into complete insanity.
I speak nothing but the truth, the whole truth, so help me God. And I will say this under oath with threats to my liberty for lying. And that I will say this though it greatly risks my reputation and I will receive nothing in turn. I have not written this for an ulterior motive than to stop this crime.
And that I have collected a great deal of evidence that will prove my claims. And that hundreds did bear witness to each of the anecdotes described here in. And that throughout the years I had discussed many of the anecdotes and not once did I deviate from the truth in any way. And that all my records attest to all that happened. And that any investigation will leave no doubt that this is true. And that to discard them without reviewing my evidence is apathy, which is a crime against God.
And that there is much more evidence than mine. And that you can ask any therapist or psychiatrist that has not profited from such a place of them. And they will tell you that patients sent to such places often turned hopeless. And that such places only do care of profits and nothing else.
And here I must mention before I continue. That I had many joyous times in the mental hospitals. And I made many friends. And I will likely never see any of them again as we were not allowed to know the full names of others nor give each other ways to contact in the future. And while this story makes all seem negative. But I must say that many people there did bring happiness to my life and that I returned the favor. And that I learned a great deal from such people. And that I am glad I was in every hospital because in each I did connect to at least one wonderful person. I know that I brought great spirit and happiness to the patients therein. And I do wish sometimes to commit myself, just to help those within and have them help me again. And there is such a great deal of stories I have left from this summary that I do hope I will have the strength to share someday, if anyone will care to listen.
I say unto you that I am an honorable person that none have ever proven me to be dishonest. That I do not request any compensation for this from anyone. I say unto you I speak nothing but the truth.
It is that three years from this event on December 25th, 2018, I did speak to God again. I did not speak to God and all I longed for was death for the three years prior.
And when I spoke to God yesterday I was told I had suffered to end all suffering. And that I have an insurmountable task of proving this occurrence to the world. That I can save the Earth from this wickedness. And all my memories of God were returned to my soul. And my heart hated Him no longer. And I did rejoice at Christmas and love Jesus once more. Thus I did write all of these 12,000 words in a single day, guided by God.
And I did see Christmas with my husband’s family for the first time. And I experienced all I had longed for with my family as a child. Wherein my childhood we had a nativity set, but never discussed it. Wherein we worshipped Santa and forgot about Jesus. Wherein I was never told that I am a miracle crafted by God, as all children should be told.
With his family I did experience worshipping Jesus. And enjoying traditions I had longed for all my life. And I did steal away into their bathroom to cry. As I had learned what I did not have for my life before. And God did come to me then and we spoke for a long while.
And God did ask of me forgiveness. As He did turn me away from Him with purpose. And that He did fool me into false invulnerability. And He did not know whether I would survive or come back to sanity or if it would all be for not. And I told him I had forgiven Him long ago. Because I did know my purpose though I did not realize it until that moment. And that I did know that my life was worth sacrificing to end this great evil. Thus, I did not question God any longer.
I say unto you now, this is one the most evil practices in the world. Wherein God will say yes, humans do more horrible things elsewhere. Yet this inhumanity is one of the greatest crimes of all. As this behavior is accepted and encouraged by the state of the freest country. There is no sign of this crime being halted. As the entire public is not aware nor cares to be.
And that this is what occurs when God and state are too separated. And that apathy has made the entire country guilty of this crime. And that this crime is the main cause of our homelessness, substance abuse, and violence. Which we blame on everything else, but for which are truly the causes. And many conceal this truth to press their agendas, which is another great crime.
And that our governance has purposely divided us for profit. And we have been fooled into hating each other. And in this chaos psychopaths can work without consequence. And that society has focused on problems that have no worth.
And that many others have suffered worse than I did and for longer than I. And that millions have died from this. And that the state is systematically removing the meek from the country. And that we have never left the dark ages. And that the “crazies” are treated as the “witches” were but in modern age. Wherein they are deemed to be destructive for existing regardless of the actions that take. And that they are doomed to torture, detentions and put to death for being deemed as such. And that we have changed little since the time of the Salem Witch Trials as only the labels have changed.
That those suffering from this crime are the meek. And they are the ones not afraid to talk with God and proclaim Him to the world. And they are the ones who will work hardest in the right setting. And that casting them from society is a grave mistake. There may or may not be new prophets, but all are condemned by society and we speak with God no longer.
I have spoken with great certainty. But I was only certain of such things as they occurred three years ago. On this day I do not know if the God, Jesus and Father I saw were a hallucination. And while I did touch some, there is such experience as a tactile hallucination. But I say these things unto you to explain my insanity. I do not expect to be believed nor is that the purpose of this writing. And while I have experienced many small miracles while praying to God, He has done little to others to make them believe in me. Aside from other patients in mental hospitals wherein we did experience such great divine events. Yet no one will believe those people nor I. And we do not wish to be believed as those experiences were only meant for us to witness.
Such events may not be possible until I further connect to God again or they were a mass hysteria. If they were reality they were not meant to be seen by any but the tortured souls there to provide them with hope and faith. And so, until and unless God and I work to prove this collaboration to the world, I do not wish to be believed and should not. If the religious revelations bestowed upon me from God, they were only meant for my stewardship. As I have kept much from this writing that humanity is yet ready to hear. And I have been instructed to not share such revelations aside from my stewardship.
Thus, I do question if the divine was involved. If it was it may have been only dark forces leading me into such insanity without the involvement of God. Yet I believe that God will reveal the truth of my questions of insanity through small miracles in the future.
But while the validity of such occurrences is questionable, being tortured and killed for such beliefs is evil. And that I should have spoken to a bishop or a missionary then to resolve of the validity of such experiences long before my second hospitalization and detention in jail. And that I did beg many times to speak to such a person with no success prior to and during these events. And that chance to come back to sanity was stolen from me many times, as it is stolen from many others before they fall into the greatest depths of insanity.
And though the conversation on Christmas was not as outstanding as did not see God but only heard his voice. I do believe that we did speak and that God did give me the task to end this great crime. And only that task. And that this is a revelation in the literal sense: to bring to the worlds attention a crime that they are unaware of. And that this is not a religious revelation but a revelation that is true regardless if God even exists. And that when I prayed to Him on Christmas, He did tell me this but that this anecdote does not matter. And he did say unto me that humanity is at risk for being cast from the Earth and Heaven so He may begin a new creation due to such crimes. And that is not meant to believed but others, but them to understand the gravity of this situation. And that my purpose in life is to only bring these issue to the world attention. Thus, this the only purpose of me writing this and proclaiming it to the world while putting my reputation in grave danger.
I say this unto you to fulfill my purpose and for no other reason. I pray for you to heed this message and to take action, or we may be doomed.
My job is to end this abuse. Please share this story. Please add your stories in the comments below. Use your real Facebook name. Do not be afraid to speak anymore. We will not be silenced any longer. I cannot do this job alone. Please help me. Sign up for the newsletter. Let us gather in the streets and demand justice from the world.
"You loved me because I'm fragile. I thought that I was strong. But you touched me for a little while. And all my fragile strength was gone."
- Gravity from Sara Bareilles.
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Whenever I have a free mind, when I am not thinking of something important, I immediately start thinking of what happened. It's in the back of my mind 24-7. Every moment of the event is like a concrete wall in my brain that will never disintegrate. Which is why I can tell the story in such detail and consistency.
I still cry about my dog everyday. I don't think that pain will ever stop. When I think of my family, I can't remember all the happy memories of my childhood. I can only think of all the bad things, because of their betrayal. All my happy thoughts have been taken from me. I don't know if I will ever get them back. |