Porcupine's wisdom

The path of a modern shaman


Bad hair day

Let’s first start with describing the hospital. It was a lovely place, full of nice patients and amazing staff, run by the good for the humanity NHS (National Health Service of England), where we received great food, nice rooms, and excellent care. Coffee was always available. I met there Natasha who told me, she was the devil, and the smoking room was still available (later they redid it into some sort of green space that no one was attending, because patients would walk sad in the garden, terrified by where on earth this extremely badly run campaign with stopping with smoking was going). You see it everywhere now, this ban, denying people of simple pleasures in life, such as a nice glass of wine in the evening, good strong coffee in the morning, and an occasional sneaky cigarette because it makes someone simply feel good and relieves the anxiety problem.

It was in the summer of 2010 when I ended up with a post-natal psychosis on the Barbage ward back in the lovely Sheffield that I had the most traumatic experience ever.

So, the hospital was nice but I felt always like escaping its premises because of the Mental Health Act above my head. I was under a section 3 that in practice meant that I could be detained up to six months in a psychiatric hospital, while my priority was, of course, to be able to care after my beautiful son, born on the third of April 2010.

And so, I escaped. I jumped via a fence and luckily didn’t break any leg in the process and run towards an illusionary freedom, which didn’t exist because you loose all your rights, identity and any voice, so to speak, if you are detained under the most awful invention, such as denying basic right of freedom to an individual whose only fault is that he is ‘bipolar’ or ‘schizophrenic’ or whatever. It’s all a myth, the talk about ‘mental illness’ as the real mental illness is being a pedophile, or simply evil.

We, the mental health patients are the victims of the invention of the psychiatry in the 18th century by an evil mind. Some of these ‘doctors’ practiced witchcraft on their own children, and the deranged Pavlov is a good example of the evil mind, with his behavioural nonsense and torture of dogs.

The psychiatry, of course, saw its whole ‘glory’ during the Second World War when nazis were experimenting on Jews and Slavic people in their inventions of hell, such as concentration camps. Nowadays this example of evilness can be seen in the American system run by FDA where the American Association of Psychiatry tries to segment each character, personality and trait, by administering drugs already to children, as if it’s wrong to be autistic or slightly high or simply differently amazing. And the same situation was taking place in Ukraine until Russia came to the rescue but let’s avoid this topic in this post.

I run the streets in search of freedom, but there was nowhere to go. Elections were in full swing and I saw a house advertising to vote for Liberal Democrats and tried the door, which was open, and came inside because I hoped to receive some help or just a nice English cup of tea.

There was a guy in the living room, obviously expecting me, he was a real killer. He took a knife from the kitchen drawer, and dialled the police saying to them that he had an intruder who was threatening him, while I was just standing there

A thin woman of size 8-10, a mother and a vulnerable human being. I knew I had to get out of there to save my life but he grabbed my hand and aimed a knife at me and I don’t know where I found the energy but somehow in that position I managed to open the door back and get with him into the garden, with a knife aimed at my heart and him grabbing my hair with all his might.

I took a life saving decision and I said goodbye to my hair and run as fast as I could from his grip, with half of my hair remaining in his hand. It hurt like hell and I am sure he made a curse on me and the whole humanity using my hair, because the elections results would be awful and then Brexit was offered as a possible choice to poor English people who had no idea what a paradise the European Union really is, and how nice and friendly it can be, when you cooperate with each other and have less divisions between classes, income and brand of a car. When you accept the diversity, difference and help the other to find their way. Netherlands is, of course, a beautiful example of such paradise, but so is Belgium and definitely Germany, that remembers the lessons of the Second World War and fights the resurgence of fashism we can witness now in Germany, but also in the Western part of Ukraine. Hey, they wear Nazi flags and say that it is normal! If you think that hating another human being because he is different from you is normal. Then and only then you are mentally ill, and not an innocent kind human being thinking she is Jesus (hi, that’s me), diagnosed with bipolar disorder.

Yes, it was a bad hair day.

Look at me now!

The devil


2 responses to “Bad hair day”

  1. What a story!
    Yes, look at you now!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes, look at me now

      Like

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About Me

My name is Ekaterina and I am a Doctor of Philosophy, lecturer and writer. Diagnosed with bipolar disorder at the age of 27, because of psychoses, I have kept on going, despite the odds. In my daily life I work, look after my son, and have friends around the world. I speak 4 languages fluently and I lived in 4 different countries.

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