When the police are the bullies who is going to protect me from the police?
The abuse was intentional and sadistic. I was taken from the hospital, to the detention center, because I kicked the officer trying to restrain me. I pressed at the bruise on my wrist while in the rubber room, wondering where I got it. I remembered having cuffs put on me with my hands behind my back and screaming, “You’re hurting me!” I pounded on the door of the rubber room telling them I needed to use the restroom and they gave me a cup of water. I used it to poop in. They decided it was time to move me into a cell with a toilet. I was kept in a freezing cement cell without a blanket, mattress or pillow. It did have a toilet. I was denied medication or medical care for an emergency medical condition.
They know that what they did was wrong. They lied about the date that I was booked because they felt the need to cover up what they had done. It was stated in their own report I was “unwilling/unable” to provide my name and address.
I was arrested for kicking a police officer who was trying to restrain me, while in a hospital. The longer a psychotic episode lasts the more likely I am to have psychotic episodes with more frequency in the future. The police kept me in the detention center for three days without treatment while I was in a psychotic state. The police want to brag about having a hero's job? When any job attracts admiration for a job well done, those unworthy of it need to be weeded.
If you can't tell the difference between someone who is having a mental break and someone who's intoxicated then don't try. It's not your job. As an EMT we are advised not to diagnose. According to my training as an EMT an altered state of consciousness is always a medical emergency. There should be no rubber rooms in detention centers. If it seems there's a need for one the person should be in the hospital. Not all EMTs are heroes. One of my fellow EMTs called his steel toed boots bum kickers.
As a resource teacher I had a student in my class who was classified BD. That's behavior disordered. He hated the police. He had seen the police beat his mother. His mother was a meth addict and probably dealing. Still that leaves an impression on a young boy’s mind. I tried to convince the boy that the police were on his side and that he should call the police if he was ever in trouble. The boy was high risk. Today I regret not being more of an advocate for the boy.
Does it surprise you to hear that I've had respectable professions? There seems to be a misconception that the mentally ill are in a constant state of psychosis. I've had three psychotic episodes since 1997. In the meantime I've been a contributing member of society. Correction, I am a contributing member of society, unless society can find a way to render me an expendable.
The letter from my doctor, which I provide as evidence of my diagnosis, was intended for a different purpose and a different time. My doctor wrote the letter in 2014 because my testimony is important. There is a criminal organization that would like to see me dead, but more than that they would like to discredit me. This organization knows that I'm bipolar and will absolutely use this against me. When I am in a state of psychosis it may be difficult to understand me much less believe what I say. Psychosis has been a rare occurrence in my case. A psychotic episode is an episode not a constant state. This organization in question is notorious for using LSD for the purpose of discrediting their subjects. In fact they invented it, literally, and for that purpose.
I was concerned when I was in the detention center because I thought perhaps the homeless man who spent the night in our condo the night before my psychotic episode occurred had drugged me. I am still not convinced that he had nothing to do with the psychotic episode. If the police had provided me with a drug test in an attempt to prove their accusation that I was intoxicated or under the influence of a drug, it might have provided me with evidence as to whether I was drugged or whether this was a psychotic episode due to mania.
By the time the police found me walking along highway 201 I had narrowly escaped being hit by two vehicles. The police identified me as having mental problems, but the trooper felt that leaving me at a gas station on the opposite side of the freeway was a more convenient option then dropping me off at a hospital. I was exhausted and a house with an open door was as welcoming as my roommate’s bed had been the last time I had a psychotic episode. A comfortable place to sleep is not accompanied with thoughts of who the sofa or bed might belong to when one is having a psychotic episode. You simply sleep on it. When the police found me I thought they were robbers, so I left the house to find a safer one. I clearly wasn’t making any sense, they said, so one intelligent officer suggested I should be taken to the hospital.
When I was freed from the cement jail hell, because I had decided to participate with their game of book the prisoner, I demanded to know why I was there. A young naïve officer informed me that I had been arrested for public intoxication, assault on an officer, and trespassing. I told the officer I was not intoxicated. I thought maybe the homeless man had drugged and raped me.
Now the officer was determined to assure me, “We are on your side!”
I pointed to the jail hell behind me and said, “Well that was fun.” He looked confused.
I needed a boy in my classroom to believe the police when they say, “We are on your side.”
We
The lie is really in the word “we” isn’t it?
Not every EMT is on your side.
Not every teacher is on your side.
Not every trooper is on your side.
Not ever police officer is on your side.
Speak for yourself.
I am a teacher, and I am on your side.
I am an EMT, and I am on your side.
You are a trooper.
Are you on my side?
You are a police officer.
Are you on my side?
Who are you?
Are you on my side?
Really?
The abuse was intentional and sadistic. I was taken from the hospital, to the detention center, because I kicked the officer trying to restrain me. I pressed at the bruise on my wrist while in the rubber room, wondering where I got it. I remembered having cuffs put on me with my hands behind my back and screaming, “You’re hurting me!” I pounded on the door of the rubber room telling them I needed to use the restroom and they gave me a cup of water. I used it to poop in. They decided it was time to move me into a cell with a toilet. I was kept in a freezing cement cell without a blanket, mattress or pillow. It did have a toilet. I was denied medication or medical care for an emergency medical condition.
They know that what they did was wrong. They lied about the date that I was booked because they felt the need to cover up what they had done. It was stated in their own report I was “unwilling/unable” to provide my name and address.
I was arrested for kicking a police officer who was trying to restrain me, while in a hospital. The longer a psychotic episode lasts the more likely I am to have psychotic episodes with more frequency in the future. The police kept me in the detention center for three days without treatment while I was in a psychotic state. The police want to brag about having a hero's job? When any job attracts admiration for a job well done, those unworthy of it need to be weeded.
If you can't tell the difference between someone who is having a mental break and someone who's intoxicated then don't try. It's not your job. As an EMT we are advised not to diagnose. According to my training as an EMT an altered state of consciousness is always a medical emergency. There should be no rubber rooms in detention centers. If it seems there's a need for one the person should be in the hospital. Not all EMTs are heroes. One of my fellow EMTs called his steel toed boots bum kickers.
As a resource teacher I had a student in my class who was classified BD. That's behavior disordered. He hated the police. He had seen the police beat his mother. His mother was a meth addict and probably dealing. Still that leaves an impression on a young boy’s mind. I tried to convince the boy that the police were on his side and that he should call the police if he was ever in trouble. The boy was high risk. Today I regret not being more of an advocate for the boy.
Does it surprise you to hear that I've had respectable professions? There seems to be a misconception that the mentally ill are in a constant state of psychosis. I've had three psychotic episodes since 1997. In the meantime I've been a contributing member of society. Correction, I am a contributing member of society, unless society can find a way to render me an expendable.
The letter from my doctor, which I provide as evidence of my diagnosis, was intended for a different purpose and a different time. My doctor wrote the letter in 2014 because my testimony is important. There is a criminal organization that would like to see me dead, but more than that they would like to discredit me. This organization knows that I'm bipolar and will absolutely use this against me. When I am in a state of psychosis it may be difficult to understand me much less believe what I say. Psychosis has been a rare occurrence in my case. A psychotic episode is an episode not a constant state. This organization in question is notorious for using LSD for the purpose of discrediting their subjects. In fact they invented it, literally, and for that purpose.
I was concerned when I was in the detention center because I thought perhaps the homeless man who spent the night in our condo the night before my psychotic episode occurred had drugged me. I am still not convinced that he had nothing to do with the psychotic episode. If the police had provided me with a drug test in an attempt to prove their accusation that I was intoxicated or under the influence of a drug, it might have provided me with evidence as to whether I was drugged or whether this was a psychotic episode due to mania.
By the time the police found me walking along highway 201 I had narrowly escaped being hit by two vehicles. The police identified me as having mental problems, but the trooper felt that leaving me at a gas station on the opposite side of the freeway was a more convenient option then dropping me off at a hospital. I was exhausted and a house with an open door was as welcoming as my roommate’s bed had been the last time I had a psychotic episode. A comfortable place to sleep is not accompanied with thoughts of who the sofa or bed might belong to when one is having a psychotic episode. You simply sleep on it. When the police found me I thought they were robbers, so I left the house to find a safer one. I clearly wasn’t making any sense, they said, so one intelligent officer suggested I should be taken to the hospital.
When I was freed from the cement jail hell, because I had decided to participate with their game of book the prisoner, I demanded to know why I was there. A young naïve officer informed me that I had been arrested for public intoxication, assault on an officer, and trespassing. I told the officer I was not intoxicated. I thought maybe the homeless man had drugged and raped me.
Now the officer was determined to assure me, “We are on your side!”
I pointed to the jail hell behind me and said, “Well that was fun.” He looked confused.
I needed a boy in my classroom to believe the police when they say, “We are on your side.”
We
The lie is really in the word “we” isn’t it?
Not every EMT is on your side.
Not every teacher is on your side.
Not every trooper is on your side.
Not ever police officer is on your side.
Speak for yourself.
I am a teacher, and I am on your side.
I am an EMT, and I am on your side.
You are a trooper.
Are you on my side?
You are a police officer.
Are you on my side?
Who are you?
Are you on my side?
Really?
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