A Some-not-All Laundry List of Reasons this is a Torture Facility

A Some-not-All Laundry List of Reasons this is a Torture Facility

1.) My second Thursday held in this building, I walked into the dining room shortly after 7pm and walked out shortly before midnight. Five hours of my life had gone missing. Over the next few days, strap bruises appeared on my arms as did scrape marks appear on my hips.

2.) One night after watching the French Open, I fell asleep on the floor in front of the television in the female only ward. I awoke to find that the hard switches for the television had all been switched to off and that my sinuses had been cut open. For months, my nose processed copious amounts of mucus until healing could happen on its own, and I still now snore loudly when I sleep. When the memories came back, the night staff had held me down while I was still awake, torn open the insides of my nose, and drugged me to forget it had ever happened.

3.) My first morning here, I woke up with a painfully bruised taint. Do you know what a taint is? After you look it up, you will understand why I called this a torture facility from the start. I am still raped in this bed every time I sleep here on the night shift.

4.) The last time I slept here on the night shift, it was at 7am when I laid down. The night shift ends at 7:30am. I woke up at about 2pm after the night shift had inserted a three-month stick of testosterone into one of my ladylike body parts. I now cannot recognize my face from all of the chemical effects, and the hair growth there is disturbing. The night shift all still work here.

5.) When I once tried to report that I had been raped here to the police, I was deeply, scorchingly, verbally sexually harassed over it by one of the nurses here named Sue. When I called 999 back again for an update, she got between me and the phone to hang it up while I was speaking to emergency services. I was denied any help from the police by the facilities here, was dragged across the floor away from the telephone in the lobby by Sue and Colin as Colin kicked me in the head, and was deposited in a hallway. I spent the rest of the day harassed over ‘being a nuisance’ for lying in the hallway where they had dragged and left me.

6.) All of the drinking water here and most of what little food they serve us at all are drugged. It is not strange for all of us who eat lunch to fall asleep afterwards. It is not strange to find hallucinogenic chemicals in the hot drink machine in the canteen. I soon learned to NEVER drink out of the bathroom taps. I have no idea what we are bathing in, but it worse to us than the food.

7.) The cushioned surfaces all have an electric charge in them, particularly at night. The beds and chairs make our hearts pound, our stomachs churn, and our mouths dry out. Sometimes, the charge even comes up through the floor. The only safe place here to sleep is outside on the grass, but we are forbidden there at night.

8.) The nursing staff is a never-ending source of verbal abuse. We inmates are not humans to any of them. While swarmed and held down for injection torture in the TV lounge one afternoon, I was told about the horrifying appearance of my “big, round, giant ass.” Colin, whose real name I swear is Alistair, is one of the worst. Sam couldn’t spell the word respect if I wrote it backwards on her forehead with a Sharpie™, and Toni is yet another whore for the Nazi government that runs this operation.

9.) Ah, yes, now that I mentioned the injection torture, I might as well detail its horrors. It is not only the way they administer it: ambushing me with staff; swarming me; battering me; holding me down; undressing me; sticking a large, pointed, metal object in my beautiful backside; and then filling me with deadly chemicals. It is also the effect of the chemicals. The first time, the injections took away my ability to form coherent thoughts, removed any ability to express any possible thoughts coherently even if I could form them, contorted my body, reduced my circulation so much my ankles swelled in days, and broke my connection with the energy of the natural world. The second time, they were injecting me with a full supposed once-weekly prescription up to five times a week. They would provoke me until I had to defend myself, punish me for it with a death-injection, and then complain their feelings were hurt. At this point, every injection gave me headaches and nosebleeds and made death feel like it was creeping through my body. This time, the horror is in the administration mostly. They hold me down until I scream for my life while they rape me with needles.

10.) Through all of this, I am still denied all actual medical care as well as any actual medical attention from a treating doctor. The quack does not allow me out of the building, refuses to acknowledge I have been safe to travel since the day I arrived, and orders the injection torture. The supposed social worker she works with to keep me here refuses to acknowledge I am French and need to go home to my husband. The first junior doctor was a pathological liar, and the new one has yet to prove himself. I have hopes for the new junior doctor, though. I have to have hope in something.

11.) There is so much more. I have not even had a chance to detail the radiation torture that would follow me throughout the building. It would burn hottest when I would use the communal computer before the staff broke it permanently. It left radiation burns on my inmates, and it hurt like the fires of a Christian devil reaching out to stop me from something… yet it never told me what.

As I said, it is a some-not-all list. There have been more horrors committed here than I can keep straight and organized in my mind. Please stay strong and organized, my beautiful world. You will get me out of here, yet,