My Little Brush with Psychiatry

To keep the sense of this account to that of being of general application rather than criticizing one particular hospital or specific people, I am not naming the first hospital involved, nor the ward where I was imprisoned, until at the very end of the sections relating to it - where the hospital and ward are named purely for authenticity's sake. I do not want to single out the particular doctors for criticism, because their outlooks are only examples of the general state of psychiatric practice up and down the land, and I am more interested in highlighting the great wrongness of the whole psychiatry mindset in principle rather than go slagging individuals who mean well and, within their own horrendously misguided framework of reference, are doing their job relatively well.

The hospital staff are all nice people who I love and respect, and I certainly don't want to hurt or offend any of them, but nonetheless there is a lot which must be said aloud and in public if my experiences are to bring true benefit for others through encouraging change in a woefully misguided and failing system.

Visit 1

What led up to this?

I was in a bizarre situation to start with, but it would be a distraction to go into detail here about what had been going on for me to lead up to my getting shunted into what was for me a decidedly unlikely place considering that, as will be apparent from other parts of this website, I am an enlightened mystic and healing master*. I give some explanation towards the end of this page. Suffice it to say here, I was being subjected to a series of severe ordeals for a week, particularly over the five days / nights leading up to Sunday 17th October 2004. By that time I'd had five consecutive days/nights with no sleep at all and it was amazing that I was keeping going at all - especially when one knows what I'd had to endure during those nights. These ordeals were coming from 'low level astral beings'**, allegedly under a fair degree of direction of my own higher consciousness for the purported purpose of testing and training me in various ways and deepening my spiritual realization, and also for powerful healing of certain past life traumas of mine.

* Later note (February 2008) - Since the above was written I have distanced myself from use of the word 'master' for 'teacher'. That had derived from the absurd and unhelpful tradition of all Reiki teachers being called 'Masters', and had been encouraged by false guidance, from interfering astral ('dark') entities, and that false 'guidance' had for a while managed to persuade me to use that unhelpful term to describe myself.

I have also come to understand that 'mystic' is an exceedingly inappropriate and unhelpful way to describe myself, for mystics, although to varying degrees living (as indeed I do) on the basis of direct experience of life rather than taking on other people's teachings, are generally ungrounded in their 'deeper' or 'higher' perceptions and so are getting very seriously misled by the astral ('dark') forces into believing in a whole variety of illusory realities which are bound to cause them tremendous problems in the long term.

I would thus now in preference describe myself as a self realized clear thinker who seeks to facilitate other people's self realization.

** Later note (September 2008) - I now understand that the notion of high level (supposedly beneficial) and low level (troublesome or 'dark') astral entities is incorrect and one of the myriads of deceptions that have come from astral entities to the various channels and mediums. For all I know, there could be a wide range of types of astral entity, but none of us could truly know about that, and for our practical, healing purposes we can safely work as though astral entities do not belong to discrete categories and indeed probably are not really discrete entities at all but something else altogether (please see the panel below). For more about this please see Astral Entities - Interference and Attacks from 'The Dark Side'.

I emphasize particularly that nobody can know for sure the true nature of the astral 'entities'. As I explain in Better Without Channelling, no information gained from non-physical sources is reliable, and all one can really say is that there appear to be non-physical conscious entities which are bent on causing major problems for humans, and for healing purposes it is usually helpful to work as though they are something foreign to the affected person, and greatly unhelpful to regard them just as part of the human victim's mind (even though there are situations in self healing work - NOT in the mental healthcare services, however! - where the latter approach for some manifestations is appropriate).

In Astral Entities - Interference and Attacks from 'The Dark Side' I discuss the likely true nature and origin of such entities, and show how they can most beneficially be regarded as not being conscious beings at all, at least in the way that you and I are, and indeed not necessarily clearly defined as the discrete entities which they make themselves appear to be - even though there is overwhelming evidence of their existence as some sort of interfering and extremely troublesome force external to each of us as an individual.

On the particular Sunday it appeared to me that I had a lethal curse* working on me. It had come to my notice the previous day and had given me a rough night, again with no sleep. It was supposedly put upon me by astral beings and was going to cause my abdominal organs to liquefy, resulting in my death, and then, allegedly, I would fall into a succession of the hells that pretty well all the traditions had come up with - though actually the delectable collection of hells dreamed up in the teachings of Buddhism were the prime focus and they were 1,001% too many as far as I was concerned! Just to rub my nose in this juicy prospect, my 'guidance' was taunting me more and more frequently with a strongly disturbing smell which was allegedly that of roasting human flesh**...

* Later note (April 2007) - It was really just a severe attack from astral ('dark' or 'demonic') entities, which were attaching a menacing 'story' to it.

** Later note (August 2008) - My understanding now, on the basis of deeper understanding, and supported by the results of energy testing on the subject, is that the smell was actually that of a sacrifice being carried out as part of a Satanistic or black witchcraft / black magic ritual. The smell actually had two components. One was a rather sweet but (to me) very disturbing smell that had been given to me a lot during the ordeals over the last few days, and I understand this to be of a concoction that was kept at the altar, where participants in rituals would anoint themselves with it. The other component of the smell - i.e. the one that was new on this particular Sunday - was indeed that of burning flesh.

The burning flesh was actually most likely that of an animal, though the possibility that on at least one occasion an actual human was sacrificed can't be ruled out (some black magic cults are known to sacrifice human babies even nowadays). Such smells that were presented to me were actually memories held by one or more of the parasitic lost souls attached to me.

I couldn't dissolve this curse and was feeling absolutely ghastly with it at the solar plexus (a deep, menacing ache there with a hellish quality about it whose awfulness is impossible to describe). It really seemed that there was nothing I could do about this, because there appeared to be nobody who had a proper understanding of whatever was going on, and thus nobody who could genuinely assist me - so actually I was pretty well resigned to my being very soon indeed to die.

As a clutch at a straw, I phoned the healer Christopher Strong in Evesham, who had assisted over the phone to enable me to come out of a serious astral attack crisis in April of that year, and he made a few suggestions for getting my awareness out of the 'nasty' that was going on for me - in particular for me to take a gentle walk somewhere very open where there was grass and trees, and keep my gaze level-to-rather-upwards rather than tending to downwards as it would so often be, and then to phone him again for him to see what else needed doing.

That was actually very good advice, and I followed that, having a little walk down by the River Exe - but it was not obviously dislodging this curse or whatever it was, and as I started returning towards my flat, I have to admit, having no idea what else to do, I clutched at another straw and went into the little church by The House That Moved and asked the very nice and well intentioned two women in there, who were apparently members of the team running that church, to pray for me because it looked as though I was being possessed by demons and at the moment was not succeeding in clearing them out, and it looked as though I was now close to being killed by them. (I deliberately used language that would mean something to them and encourage them to try to be genuinely supportive in some way). I take my hat off to them, that they didn't lay a Jesus or God trip on me, and, most concerned, they said that indeed they would pray for me. Just that little bit of human contact had a certain 'comfort value'*.

* Later note (October 2008) - Although actually 'comfort value' can often be problematical, in diverting one away from where one really needs to be pointing, on that occasion that sense of 'comfort value' was because in a very small way I had truly benefited from that encounter - albeit briefly. It was NOT the church nor the religion at all, nor any praying. What it was, was simply my awareness having got briefly very slightly more grounded by my having an interaction with two friendly and kind hearted people who were doing their level best to be supportive. As I was to discover in my hospitalization experiences, that grounding of my awareness by having supportive people around me was the primary need in all my attack crisis situations.

I say that, however, without prejudice to the general principle, that involving oneself with a church or religion in any way simply compounds one's problems, at least in the long term, because of its increasing one's unaware involvement with and openness to the astral ('dark') forces.

Unsurprisingly, when I reported to Christopher Strong that I'd been into that church and asked the two women there to pray for me, he sighed and said (as I now understand, quite correctly) that by doing that I'd actually made things a bit more difficult for myself - though he then reassured me that that wasn't "the end of the world", and he spent a minute or two doing some sort of remote healing action; he just asked me to "wait while I do a thing or two...", and then gave some further advice such as avoiding dairy products in my diet, and, more immediately, getting myself a light lunch of scrambled eggs on toast - something I hadn't had since I'd left my parents' home in 1967! Just why it had to be scrambled eggs on toast, I still have no idea! 

Sometime about mid-morning, as another bit of final straw-clutching, I'd mentioned my pressing problem to my immediate neighbour and had suggested that if she knew anyone who was experienced with demonic possessions, to put them in touch with me pronto, because it looked as though I would be dead within 24 hours*. I wasn't in the slightest expecting my telling her that to achieve anything, but it seemed only fair to her to let her know in a nutshell what my situation was, so at least she'd be braced for my imminent death rather than, maybe, have the shock of just finding a body.

* I was actually pretty peaceful at the notion of imminent death, because when I crossed the threshold of enlightenment in 1997 I at least largely lost my fear of death, and so even though I now seemed to be in a dire situation I was doing a pretty good job of peacefully living 'in the present' despite what appeared to be going on for me.

However, evidently and most understandably she'd got a bit worried and her inquiries had set something in motion, because while I was shakily doing my best to prepare that scrambled egg and toast, wondering how much longer I'd be able to keep going at all, two very nice policemen called at my door, wanting to come in and have a little talk with me because "neighbours had been getting worried" about me. The policemen urged me to go to the main hospital with them, where I could get some support and maybe treatment as necessary. I said, no, this wasn't a medical issue, but the policemen, while being extremely friendly and seeming genuinely interested in me and doing what they could to help, hadn't come here to take 'no' for an answer, and, being a bit fuzzy round the edges by then and not relishing the prospect of dying in the oppressive solitude of my flat, I acquiesced.

In any case, perhaps at the hospital at least I could have a dying space that had people around and wasn't so cheerless as my own flat would have been for that purpose. I'd make it as clear as possible to all concerned that I didn't want resuscitation, drugs or life support measures, for if I was really meant to die then, there was no point in delaying it, even if for some arcane reason I really had to go through all those hells as part of some sort of training.

And so it came about that I found myself waiting for some four hours in Accident & Emergency, screened off from the waiting hordes, feeling inexorably worse and worse. This was a tremendous practice in patience - though it was a sort of muted practice, because I didn't really know what there was for me to wait for, except for my very shortly dying. Well, at least it was a tremendous practice in remaining peaceful in the face of whatever all this really was, and this apparent immediate prospect of my dying and then allegedly falling into all those delectable hells - and all the time being taunted increasingly frequently with whiffs of that supposed 'roasting human flesh' smell to remind me of that prospect!

Eventually someone came to see me and told me they were now going to transport me to Z Hospital, effectively the psychiatric unit of the main hospital. "NO! Not there!", I exclaimed at once. "Don't worry", they said. "It's just that you'll get a more peaceful bed, and it won't be treated as a physical problem there." Well, as I say, I was pretty fuzzy round the edges - more so by then! - and it seemed that I wouldn't be alive much longer whatever happened, so again I acquiesced as I didn't know anything better to do anyway. The whiffs of 'roasting human flesh' didn't go away, but indeed intensified, as though to gleefully say "Yes, we've got you now...!"*.

* Later note (October 2008) - Actually it was a bit more literal than that, because in fact that was a definite 'fanciful' impression that I had right then, of a gleeful astral 'presence' gloatingly repeating to me "Yes, this is it! We've got you now!", and, as I now recognise, the astral forces had at that moment actually been intruding covert 'pseudo-thoughts' into my mindspace to give exactly that impression - the real aim presumably being to try to get me freaked out. But I remained consistently and most inconsiderately un-freakable, simply accepting 'What Is', however it was!

Enter my prison

Part of Z Hospital, including the main entrance. On my memorable first acquaintance
with the hospital it was late afternoon, with fading light, so the building had a
much more sombre and brooding appearance than is shown here in this later photo.
Now, if self realization replaced psychiatry in such establishments we could take
down those "Abandon hope all ye who enter" notices that currently have invisible
pride of place above every doorway!

My heart sank as I was escorted (curiously, in a wheelchair although I could walk perfectly well) into Z Hospital - an extensive old building with high ceilings and masses of stagnant, 'dark' energy and, I think, some problematical entities (spirit presences), all no doubt left there from problems brought in with previous psychiatric patients. I could feel these energies keying in with my desperately dark and nightmarish feelings from the curse, clutching at me and pulling me down further. What a nightmarish place for me to have to die in! 

As I was taken through, I noticed one curious feature in the main stairwell: a very coarse net of what looked like grey rope, suspended across the vertical space between the floors. It looked for all the world like a grotesque giant spider's web in some haunted mansion taken from a B-grade movie. It wasn't till later that I realized that it must have been put there NOT to make the place look still more spooky but to stop any patients from trying to commit suicide by putting themselves over the rail to free-fall down the stairwell. Not the greatest of morale boosters!

It was a long traipse along corridors that all had a dull, lifeless feel about them, eventually to reach the particular ward. I was registered in at the ward office, had the odd belongings and my money taken away and put in safe keeping, and then I could go to bed, having been given two tablets. The nurses were pretty determined that I should 'take' something, even though I said "no mind-affecting drugs", so I gave in to having, as a one-off, just one small sleeping tablet and what I think must have been a 5mg Haloperidol tablet (as I found out later, Haloperidol is an antipsychotic).  In any case if I was soon going to be dead anyway, it wasn't going to make much difference.

The medicine room, where inmates collected and took their various tablets and other medications, was to become very familiar to me in a bizarre sort of way - as it was generally open, often with queuing inmates, four times a day: immediately following mealtimes and last thing at night. The door of that room had a label on it saying 'Clinic Room' and a room number. You recognised it by its situation next to the dining room - the rationale presumably being that the medication was the final course of each meal. Some bright spark should have given it a different name so that there would be no doubt about its purpose - Sweet Shop. Okay, for American readers - Candy Store. Perhaps if, up and down the country, people had stuck such labels on the doors of those rooms of iniquity in their respective psychiatric units, somebody somewhere would have started to get the message...

Once in bed, in addition to the horrendous feelings of the curse, one of the earlier ordeals was returned to me: as I lay there wanting to go to sleep, I was assaulted by a strong nausea, having to endure that while just lying there concentrating on my deep breathing, while the inner voice was plying me with various way-out scenarios like one involving a massive wave of intense psychic attacks that evening from Satanists all over the planet, focused on my flat and causing a large meteorite to smash it into a deep crater in the ground (thus allegedly the real truth was that I'd been manoeuvred into the hospital to save me from being destroyed in that little catastrophe)... And then I woke up, having actually had a fair amount of sleep and being aware that the curse seemed no longer to be working on me. Later on, in fact I learnt that the curse had been a simulation anyway, given to me allegedly by my higher consciousness*, so in truth my innards hadn't even started dissolving.

* Later note (October 2008) - Bullshit! Or, to put it more discreetly, a lot of old dinosaurs' testicles! That 'curse' had simply been one of the many varieties of severe, crisis-level attacks that the astral ('dark') forces could put upon me. I describe the mechanism of such attacks in Astral Entities - Interference and Attacks from 'The Dark Side' and Anatomy of an Entity Attack Crisis. And, as I have to keep explaining, the widely held notion that we have an apparently partially separated-off 'higher consciousness' is another pernicious fiction sourced from the astral forces.

A whole new meaning for 'voluntary patient'...

So, on the Monday I was a bit weak and weary, but it appeared to be all okay and I wanted to get out*. Could I, hell! Even though I was supposedly a voluntary patient and free to leave, I was kept in - and my following my guidance to seek to escape just led to my being stopped each time and clearly being regarded as some sort of unstable miscreant who had to be kept in. Monday evening, and I had directions from my guidance, to put up a stronger resistance against the nurses' attempts to keep me in, which led to my being hustled off to the the so-called Extra Care Area, where difficult characters such as myself could be restrained as necessary without the other patients seeing what was going on. I was put in a guarded seclusion room with a foam mattress on the floor, so I had to do my best to sleep on that.

* Later note (October 2008) - Well, er, actually there was a whole lot more to it than that, because - yes, you've guessed it! - the notion of my trying to get out of there was being put to me repeatedly by my 'guidance' with supposed great urgency, still as part of some alleged grand plan involving me having some major role for all Humanity and therefore it being absolutely imperative that I try to get out at the earliest possible moment, that day, for this hospitalization was on the verge of completely wrecking the great plan through its taking me out of action. A succession of variant plans for my immediate escape from there were pressed on me by my 'guidance', generally involving my running like the blazes once I'd managed to slip out of one door or another (except in practice I was always stopped at the door), and then to get picked up by a car that would be waiting for me down the road - and then everything would be all right and the other members of 'my team' would sort things out with the hospital, police or whoever was trying to find me.

Actually, the notion of me running like the blazes - or indeed running at all - at that time was a bit hilarious, considering the actually pretty debilitated and somnambulent state I was in, thanks to the wonderful, life-enhancing medication that I'd been given!

During that night, while lying there on the floor of that seclusion room, I had more directions from my 'guidance'*. This was still part of the supposed tests that were being given to me. These directions related to a challenging scenario that was in fact another bunch of fiction, but I couldn't at that point be sure that it was so, which was why I wasn't just ignoring the directions. As part of that scenario I was supposed to allow myself to be transported non-physically to a location in Newton Abbot in order to get joined up with my team who were supposed to have some forthcoming leadership function for all Humanity (rather bizarrely, the name Dominic Muldowney kept getting mentioned as an important member), a little way south-west of Exeter, but several apparent attempts didn't work and I was directed to put up a big show of agitation to get out, so that I would be sedated, and then when I was sedated it would all work. So, being a quite good actor (indeed I'd been in a local amateur theatre group some years ago), I acted my part and duly got sedated. Then still nothing happened and eventually I got a very little sleep, I then having to assume that the scenario which my 'inner guidance' had given me was all fiction. Thus I resolved to have no further truck with such 'inner guidance' for the time being, and just to concentrate on being myself.

* Later note (April 2007) - I now know that this misguidance had all the distinguishing features of astral 'entity' interference; it was most definitely not from a higher source, and neither from any deeper and wiser part of myself.

However, just being myself and visibly well was one thing, but I had already set the machinery of the Establishment in motion. When I came out of the isolation room and met my guards (nurses) I had a piece of paper given to me explaining that I was now put under the provisions of the infamous Section 2 of the Mental Health Act of 1983 - I had been 'sectioned'. This allowed me to be kept in hospital against my will at the discretion and whim of a psychiatric doctor (!) for up to 28 days (extendable through Section 3 of the Act), and so now the violation of my basic rights was legitimized and I couldn't leave anyway. Of course that would hardly have mattered if the psychiatric doctors were effective healers, and, first and foremost, would understand and properly respond to my own healing needs...

Monday and Tuesday at 'medication rounds', I meekly accepted an evil-looking yellow tablet which was 'in the book' for me, prescribed by the ward doctor. As I remember it, this was Diazepam, otherwise known as Valium. Just why I, with such a strict policy of not taking mind-affecting drugs, accepted such medication even for two days, I don't know for sure, though I rather think my higher consciousness* wanted me to get a little 'inside' experience and so encouraged me to be weak-willed about it. Anyway, the medication did nothing to make me feel good and for those two days I was in a relatively dull and rather somnambulent state, and my speech was somewhat slurred - presumably the state which the doctors wanted me to be in (!), as distinct from my much more vibrant and challenging natural and healthy state which would become apparent once I'd stopped taking that stuff.

* Later note (October 2008) - I now recognise that the whole concept of a more or less separated-off 'higher consciousness' is one of the inventions of the astral ('dark') forces for the purpose of luring us into channelling and thus getting involved with the astral forces. However, in this particular case my current 'take', using energy testing to back up my intuition, is that my own deepest aspects (i.e. my true deepest and wisest parts) did indeed mean me to take those harmful tablets at that point for the sake of a bit of 'inside' experience. This was in the knowledge that I was not going to keep taking them and that somewhat later on I would be healing all the harmful effects from medications and other environmental stresses and damage which I'd accumulated during the whole of my life - as indeed has been happening with increasing effectiveness since I first bought an Energy Egg in 2006 and this year developed the much more effective Clarity-Sphere.

N.B. The remainder of this subsection is a later insertion (October 2008) as part of the narrative, so it actually refers to points in certain of the annotations further above...

On the Tuesday and Wednesday I managed to get visitations from my immediate neighbour in order to be brought a few essentials from my flat. No cause to mention such a triviality here of course - except for the fact that this did considerably ease my mind about two things. Parallel with the big stories I'd been given by the 'inner voice' on my first night in the hospital, about an asteroid or large meteorite having smashed my flat into some deep crater in the ground there, was another yarn that was intricately linked with all the confusing 'story' about the supposed great plans for me as some sort of world leader, which had been running through the series of ordeals that had led up to this hospitalization.

That 'alternative reality', put to me in an accusing / pitying tone, was that I was already finished and broken, and the whole purported 'Human Plan' was wrecked as a result. Allegedly the attempts to get me transferred into a new body (a plan that I explain about in Troublesome Astral ('Dark') Entities - My Own Experience) had failed because I myself had proved myself not to be up to the great leadership role planned for me (thus having let down the whole of Creation), and the 'Human Plan' itself was now in disarray, with nobody else truly suitable to take Humanity forward in its allegedly planned great step forward in its evolution. The young man (allegedly Mike Mousley*, which is a name out one of my novels) whose body I was supposed to have been transferred into was now established in my flat, I was told, and he had been given my identity, and he was even right now using my computer. He had all my official IDs, and he even had had all my relevant personal memories transferred to him so that nobody could dispute who he was. So now I myself was (allegedly) abandoned, discarded by all higher powers - just a tragic husk of a human with no future and nowhere to go, and to be left to die miserably with no further point or purpose in life, and with my body rapidly deteriorating and in particular my neck soon to cause me excruciations as it progressively disintegrated.

* There was a typical distorted logic about 'Mike Mousley' having been chosen, for this was part of another of the astral forces' convolutions in all the 'story' that they'd been giving me right through the ordeals. In the relevant novel I'd had Mike Mousley doing nasty things to people, though there was a clear and highly bizarre reason why he was never (until the end of the novel) able to recognise that he was actually harming anyone, and then at the end he'd entered his own, apparently self created 'hell', which was also a pretty good representation of the severe punitive 'karma' that many people believe in. Actually I put the record straight with regard to what karma really is, in Karma - Cutting Through the Confusion.

The astral forces at various times sought to use 'Mike Mousley' in attempts to get me intimidated and emotionally wound up (though they didn't succeed), on the basis that allegedly I was the most monumental hypocrite in the whole of Creation, and here was I, pretending to be a so-called 'spiritual teacher', having treated my characters and particularly this Mike Mousely so unspeakably frightfully in my novels - so now, as the 'inner voice' kept telling me, there was no escape for me, for I had broken the Laws of the Universe, and the karma of the Universe would now descend on me with all its severity, and there was no way I could 'heal' that sort of karma or wriggle out of it... You get the sort of picture? 

I didn't actually believe this nor disbelieve it, but just faced it all with a peaceful open mind*. After all, I had no means to know what the true state of affairs was - except that my immediate neighbour at home had just come with some essentials from my flat and not mentioned anything untoward!! That implied that the meteorite catastrophe was definitely fiction and that virtually certainly the Mike Mousley scenario was fiction too.

* I appreciate that to the vast majority of people, that would appear to be strongly dysfunctional in itself and a sign of me being mentally ill. The reality (sic), however, is that such a peaceful open mind is the natural state of every one of us - which points to how almost universally dysfunctional are people generally, including ALL who are regarded as 'normal'. Particularly when you become enlightened, as I did at the beginning of 1997, you open up to your own peaceful open-mindedness, which persists even when you are having difficult times and on the surface are experiencing various emotional 'tribulations', as I pretty spectactularly experienced during all the ordeals brought to me by the astral forces.

Yet despite that really quite watertight reassurance, it seemed that a part of me even then was actually still convinced of the Mike Mousley story, and I was feeling very unsure as to whether I'd really be able to get back into my flat or indeed live much of a life upon release from the hospital. As I well understand in retrospect from my much greater clarity now in 2008, what was really going on was that, with me still having a fair degree of ungroundedness of a particular part of my awareness at that time, the astral forces were constantly and mostly covertly feeding into my mindspace 'pseudo-thought' messages that were repeating and reinforcing that Mike Mousley scenario, and by constantly doing that they were succeeding in building up an astral realm (illusory reality) in a particular aspect of my awareness that is only partly conscious.

Thus, although 'officially' I not only held no belief in the story but actually was sure it had to be rubbish, in practice I was also experiencing a certain level of belief in the story simply because it had been lodged by the astral forces in that part of my awareness where my beliefs would be stored if I were holding beliefs. Thus, overall, I really just kept an open mind, having a certain rather nervous 'wait and see' feeling about the situation.

I think actually the astral forces were failing quite magnificently in that trick, because I'm sure their real purpose was to get that belief established sufficiently deeply in my system that it would either freak me out in a climactic sort of way, or/and, more insidiously and potentially fatally, bring about a sort of subtle energy feedback loop of self destruction though believing that I actually was then rapidly disintegrating, having lost all intrinsic 'life support' and life purpose. Yet in practice, my consistent open-mindedness and also my consistency in progressively grounding my awareness while I was there in the hospital, prevented any such thing from happening.

Still, I do have to say that, despite all the indications that things were really going fine for me, when I eventually did get away from the hospital and back to my flat and opened my front door to find everything just as I'd left it (including dried-up mouldering remains from that scrambled eggs and toast, and some blackened shrivelled bananas, all patiently waiting there for me to clear them up...), I sighed one massive sigh of relief, for that was the only way I could fully clear myself of that illusory reality - to see for myself that it had all been fiction and everything actually was okay, 'in the real'.

This is the end of the later insertion. So now, back to my first week at the hospital - resuming my original account. You'll now be able to see how I was progressively getting my awareness grounded, having turned my back on that 'inner voice' (actually the astral or 'dark' forces, though I hadn't properly understood that then) and all its fictions...

That's what they call taking the piss...

On Tuesday evening I broke ranks and refused point-blank to have anything more to do with mind-affecting drugs, just continuing with a stool softener for my back-end problems (overtightness and clenching caused by the entities, and aggravating my mild haemorrhoids). Surprisingly, although I was greeted with great reluctance and shaken heads about that, I was not forced to take the evil yellow tablet and so I went without it, slightly nervously wondering what comeback I might get from the consultant about that. Unsurprisingly, on Wednesday I was much more my vibrant self again - though by then I was caught by a physical problem - possibly my enlarged prostate had decided it was time to act, for my normal difficulty in peeing when in strange and not very private places (the so-called shy bladder syndrome) escalated into no pee at all for well over a day, and I had to be catheterized (at that point I delivered a fat 1.8 litres - the overworked surgeon who catheterized me was impressed), then having a pee bag strapped to my leg until such time in the future that I have surgery for the condition. Oh what a catalogue of calamities!

Later note -- Apparently my prostate was not the cause, and in January 2005 I had the catheter removed and was able to pee normally. Possibly the medication had aggravated the effects of my 'shy bladder' syndrome.

Subsequently - in 2006 - I came to realize that almost certainly the astral entities had been the primary cause of the problem, both aggravating the 'shy bladder' syndrome and directly causing my pee sphincter to constrict, with the intent of making me think I had prostate trouble and that my self healing methods were failing to resolve the shy bladder issue. 

Still later note (March 2008) - Now that I am in the final stage of clearance of the entity interferences, and have means of interrogating my own deepest aspects directly (i.e. through energy testing), I have had further confirmation that the issue was purely entity interference. Indeed, the extra powerful self healing / self realization methods which I took up in mid 2007 and have developed further in 2008 have resulted in a great diminution of the shy bladder effect, and also from late February I have ceased to have to get up at least once every night for a pee (which I'd had to do consistently for at least a decade now), so that nowadays more often than not I have an undisturbed night. That's definitely one in the eye for any medics who think I need to do something about my prostate, and it helps support my energy testing 'reading' to the effect that not only is my prostate no longer enlarging but it is actually beginning to reduce in size, thanks to my self healing methods and especially the Clarity-Sphere.

Meet the doctor...

On the odd occasion I was seen by the ward (psychiatric) doctor, who had the typical emotionally controlled and closed manner of a psychiatrist. Undoubtedly he was a likeable and well intentioned man, but his 'vibes' were particularly disagreeable to me owing to his being 'angel sourced'* and therefore warm and potentially able to resonate very positively with me, but this effect was distorted by his defensive 'front' of the type that puts people into psychiatrist careers in the first place** - sort of "I'm the doctor and I'm emotionally controlled and therefore all right, and you're the patient and therefore not all right". I told him he was a strong healing channel and explained very briefly that he was actually an angel incarnation, and with virtually unchanged expression and tone he uncomprehendingly told me that actually he knew he was a healer - though, he emphasized, of a different kind (i.e. a psychiatric doctor). I almost choked on the diplomatic and decidedly unconvinced 'yes' that I uttered, having seen something of the evidence of his supposed healing powers in the patients in this ward - of whom more anon...

* I now have a different interpretation of his qualities which I had at that time interpreted as signifying his being an incarnation of an angel. I explain about this change of view in 'Old Souls' - People said to be incarnated 'angels' and other higher beings.

** This actually reflects a quite significant emotional problem of the doctors concerned.

I put it to him that I was perfectly well and should not be held there. In his quiet, controlled manner, he disagreed, saying that he wanted to keep me under observation, because on Monday night he'd seen for himself that I'd got quite agitated. That I'd been acting then and he hadn't noticed that simple fact, and I'd been perfectly well and stable since (apart from the debilitating - NOT healing! - effects of the initial relatively strong medication), didn't get through to him. It also apparently hadn't occurred to him that there was something a bit strange in the first place about holding somebody against his will to be kept under observation in hospital just because he'd got a bit agitated a few days before. After all, up and down the land people get very agitated - indeed often very much more so than I'd appeared to be during my stay in this hospital - and they aren't regarded as cause to be sectioned in a psychiatric unit. In fact, so pervasive and mind-numbing was the effect of this whole establishment that I didn't even think to put that very point straight to him!!!

Because I was held and effectively imprisoned under 'Section 2', my protestations that I had important work at home which was being harmed by my absence* and which I needed to return to immediately, cut no ice with this man, to whom the only consideration was that he wanted to keep me in under observation. Basic human rights meant nothing to him.

* Later note (2008) - This wasn't just bullshitting of mine, for there was a troublesome situation that was cause for me to be very concerned about being kept away from home and thus prevented from getting on with certain work on the computer. You see, late in the ordeals leading up to this hospitalization, the astral ('dark') forces - posing as my supposedly 'real', 'higher' guidance - had put great pressure upon me to delete my whole Self Realization & Spirituality (as it was called then) website, because, allegedly, it was no longer necessary - and I had 'caved in' and actually deleted it all, AND, under very great pressure indeed (by means of attacks and emotional manipulations), all my backups of that site as well.

So, while being held prisoner in the hospital I had visions of the whole site being lost, as the cached pages at Google expired after the search engine had 'spidered' my site again and found no pages there any more - and the longer I was held there in the hospital, the more cached pages would have expired.

Thankfully, in the event, upon my eventual return home I found that Google still listed pretty well all the site's pages, even though by then they'd been absent from the server for close on two weeks - so I was then able to retrieve and clean up for re-use the cached versions in Google's listing, and I thus managed to restore the website in just a few days.

Well, here's the ward -- now where's the cure?

What was there for me to do there? Well, I could take naps on my bed or I could pace up and down the two corridors of the ward. I could sit in the smoking room, where I'd be fumigated by other inmates and be a passive smoker and be subjected to various flavours of pop / rock music which were all disagreeable to me. Or I could sit in the television lounge and enjoy the programmes there. However, to me television is a sort of torture; I live my life without one, and need one just as I need a hole in the head. So, apart from the odd very brief incursions into one or other of those rooms I basically kept to naps or in very leisurely fashion pacing up and down those corridors, day in and day out - well, except when I was writing up my personal journal for my stay there.

The men's dormitories and bedrooms were down one end, with the two corridors joining at right angles, the women's sleeping quarters being at the far end of the other corridor. Men were not allowed into that part of the corridor serving the women's sleeping quarters. To add a little entertainment, each time in my to-and-fro pacings I came to the section with the men's sleeping quarters, I became strongly aware of the pong. Yes, the men's quarters stank - of unwashed sweaty feet. Presumably it must be because many of the inmates hadn't had the best personal hygiene and the contamination and smell from their feet had got onto the carpet there. For the most part people didn't talk about it, and I could almost have imagined that I was the only person who noticed the rather gut-churning smell. Oh well, at least it reminded me that I wasn't in the Ritz!

Because I'd been 'sectioned', I was not allowed to leave the ward at all without an accompanying member of staff, and in fact during my time there I had only three short absences from the ward:

• The small-hours visit to the main hospital to be catheterized, accompanied by one of the nurses;
• I was in a friendly manner pressured to spend a bit of one morning down at Occupational Therapy, which I didn't bother about again as there was nothing there for me to do except have a friendly chat with the two staff who ran that pitifully underfunded unit. I had to be accompanied by a nurse to go down there and again for the return;
• One short stroll outside in the grounds of the building, accompanied by one of the nurses (a very nice fellow) when things were a bit quiet and he didn't have much demand on his time.

The nurses and indeed the hard-working woman who did the cleaning and put out our meals were all lovely people who helped make my imprisonment a positive experience despite its problematical aspects. I cannot blame the nurses for feeling constrained by a rotten system and so occasionally the odd ones crossing with me because of that constraint. Most of them were fundamentally quite 'open' and aware individuals, and for the most part their personal views on what patients really needed were closer to my own and they mostly knew that drugging the patients wasn't really the answer, but they just felt unable to speak out about the wrongness of the psychiatry mindset which, via the doctors, ran the show.

The patients

As far as I was concerned, I myself was not a patient but simply a prisoner. In fact, during my stay I was increasingly open in using the latter word for myself rather than 'patient', and I could feel this putting some of the nurses and indeed some of the patients rather on edge - which of course was precisely my intention. Not that I wanted to create disharmony as such, but in this place to speak your truth meant inevitably a certain degree of 'rocking the boat'. If other people had previously been prepared to risk 'rocking the boat' in order to speak their truth I needn't have been in this situation here now.

Well? Where's the cure? ...Seriously!

What were the patients actually in there for? It seemed they all had some notion that they were going to be cured or 'get better', but as far as I could make out none had any idea of what really getting better entailed, and none appeared to have any coherent notion of any positive direction for their lives. Seeing that all the indications were that the doctors had no idea either, it was evidently a case of the blind leading the blind.

The patients were all receiving some degree of mind-numbing medication, and I was shocked (sic) to learn that some were having electro-convulsive therapy (ECT). I'd been under the misapprehension that this barbaric and destructive procedure had been jettisoned some time ago, but clearly I'd been mistaken about that. At least as far as I could ascertain, this procedure was not being forcibly given to anyone in a punitive way - something which I understand used to occur in psychiatric establishments (perhaps it still does in some).

What was particularly appalling about the medication was that it was pretty routine for the various mind-numbing drugs to have various undesirable side effects, with the result that the affected patients were then given additional drugs to try to suppress those side effects. Thus most patients were consuming quite a cocktail of drugs.

I could not get a great deal of rapport with the patients, not just because of the various personal issues which they'd brought in, but I think particularly because of their drugged state. Most of them I found spoke very quietly and were very difficult to understand, and I have to assume that in at least a fair proportion of cases this was the result of the drugs they were on - especially as my own speech was markedly affected for the worse while I was on Diazepam. Another factor which also was helping to make them like that was the whole mindset of their being treated as patients with disorders rather than people with special qualities that needed uncovering through emotional release to resolve their personal issues so that they could 'grow' and stand their full height in body and mind.

Another distinct problem for most of the patients was that I myself was pretty well standing my full height in body and mind, and that tended to be felt a little bewildering and threatening in relation to what they'd been led to understand about their own nature - i.e. that there was nothing about them that was even worth their lifting their heads about. Not only that, but I was quite open with them about my seeing the whole psychiatry mindset as wrong and its 'treatments' as being unhelpful to say the least. Those points, then, were no doubt making it more difficult for them to relate with me.

Healing? -- Where?

The nurses sought to prevent any close or healing connections being established between myself and patients there. I had admonishments from particular nurses to the effect that any such healing connections would be interfering with the good work of the doctors - indeed they would interfere with the almost 100% ineffectiveness and even destructiveness of the doctors' 'care plans' for the patients, so could not be allowed. Also, to show warmth and closeness to another patient was completely not on, because the establishment had a 'duty of care' to ensure that there were no abuses, and it's a widely known fact, although of course not openly admitted by those who apply such policies, that up and down the land, psychiatric patients are seen as having no right to warmth and closeness at all (much as also tends to be the case for physically disabled people), unless perhaps from a close relative who comes visiting. Love, the great healer, was definitely not in order for psychiatric patients.

So, when one new female patient turned to me and started speaking about herself and felt my warmth and supportiveness, and started crying, and held onto me so that I put an arm around her, giving her a bit of direct attention, with no sense of desire at all, I promptly received an admonishment and a little lecture from one of the nurses. The sad irony was that all that was needed for that woman's complete recovery* was to do exactly what she had tried to do with me and what this hospital was geared to try and prevent at all cost by means of drugs and even ECT. Sick!

* Later note (April 2008) - From my current level of understanding, that would have been wildly overoptimistic, even though I did have the right principle in mind. It would be sort-of correct to say that all that was needed was full clearance of all her emotional issues (most of which would actually not have been hers at all but belonging to parasitic 'lost' souls attached to her), but at that stage I did not realize that the basic natural emotional release processes like crying are just too slow and inefficient to clear out major issues in a reasonable time. So, although actually avoiding crying was unhelpful, the real need for a useful degree of recovery was not crying but one of the much more efficient emotional clearance methods mentioned in Healing and Self Realization - The Safest and Quickest Way - and indeed clearance of her load of attached entities, which, again, is something totally unrecognised in psychiatric establishments.

I can say pretty definitely that for nearly all, if not all, of the patients who were in that ward when I was there, the primary and usually only healing need was for addressing old emotional traumas and fully releasing them - and that was the one thing which they hadn't a dog's chance in Hades of getting or being pointed towards in a psychiatric establishment.

I sadly observed one lovely young-middle-aged man who I shall call Y, who seemed to be going steadily downhill during my stay there. He actually believed that he was getting better, and was bewildered by my outspoken words about the doctors' attitude and their keeping me in without good reason. His eyes steadily developed a pleading quality, at least when he faced me, and he gave the impression of sinking into some deep mire beyond his control. He was one of those having ECT, and no doubt that and the drug treatment were numbing him to his previously uncomfortable emotional feelings so that he was being fooled into thinking he was getting better. [More about him further below.]

Another man was in for depression and was just left sitting around on his own looking dejected and doing nothing. He went down to Occupational Therapy for a while most weekday mornings, although, as I've already remarked, Occupational Therapy in this place was of limited usefulness because of lack of funds, and the one time I went down there (under a little friendly pressure from the odd nurses) all I could do was have a friendly chat with the two staff who were running that little department. It did, however, give a little safety valve from the boredom of life on the ward. (Curious - I thought love, not boredom, was supposed to be the great healer. Had I missed something?) Maybe that patient benefited a little through sleeping away from his home situation for a while, much as I'd done, but apart from that I should say that this hospital was one of the last places I would recommend for him or anyone seriously wanting to clear their depression.

Beware of the schizo!

On the evening of Sunday 24th October another new patient was escorted in, who I shall call X. He was a tall young man who looked to be quite a handful, having about him the undisciplined demeanour of a yob and hooligan with a strong criminality element, and no doubt drugs issues too - but I could also see that he was a powerful 'being of light'*. Interesting!

* Later note (April 2008) - What I meant by this was that I could sense about him a very strong energy (of the subtle type that is felt by psychics and 'sensitive' people) which I recognised as marking him out as having what I understood at that time to be a very 'deep' spiritual connection and being potentially a very strong channel for spiritual healing. Associated with this, in my inner vision I could see a pronounced white radiance around him.

More recently I have gained a more accurate or at least much more helpful understanding of this type of perception of mine, and I now understand the impression of a faint white light around somebody as indicating that that person is inadequately grounded. Indeed, X was extremely poorly grounded, which was a very major part of his problem.

Later, I was slowly making for the kitchen, and X came up to me in the corridor and embraced me affectionately*, in full view of other patients and the odd nurse or two. Then, as I continued towards the kitchen, he put an arm around my shoulders, I seeking to disengage him, pointing out that it would be problematical with the nurses for us to be seen doing things like that (much as I had no problem about that otherwise).

* Although this came as quite a surprise to me, it was actually not a threatening or troublesome experience for me, even though I was also very circumspect about him. Indeed, it was a delightful and positive experience for me.

One of the many emotional problems which the vast majority of 'normal' men have in our culture and which I largely lacked was a fear or revulsion towards warm, affectionate embracing with other men. To me all warm and aware hugging is wonderful, regardless of gender, both feeling great and having important healing and relaxing effects. What is repellent to me in some people's hugs (of either gender) is not the act of hugging, but the usually unaware personal agendas that come with hugs from many people.

In the case of X, although I was very much on guard because of his evident very major issues, his embraces were remarkably unaffected and natural, as though from a child who'd not yet learnt to keep screwed up and emotionally 'closed'.

In the kitchen, where patients went to make hot drinks and collect fresh fruit to eat, X turned to me, looked me intensely in the eyes and said that he could see that I had a very open mind and he felt that I was the person he was looking for. He said he'd had 'guidance' (i.e. from some non-physical source) to get himself admitted to this hospital because there was a very special person who he was meant to encounter here. I told him I was in fact a healing master* so very likely was the one who he was meant to encounter. He then told me of some traumatic episodes in his life and asked if I could somehow heal him of the painful mental disturbance they were causing him. He also told me of a role of gatekeeper which he had known for much of his life that he would have to fulfil, and wanted to know what this was about. He also regularly 'heard voices' and had been labelled as schizophrenic.

* Later note (April 2007) - Ouch! That disgusting M-word again! Oh well, I'm not being led astray into such notions now!

I was able to discreetly initiate a long-term healing for him, and channelled a little information which made sense of his situation. Allegedly he was the sole incarnation of a 7th dimension being. Allegedly, incarnations of 7th and 8th dimension beings were rare and almost always powerful beings of light. His gatekeeper role was, allegedly, a future role for the Network of Light around the planet. Subsequently I was able to verify about the gatekeeper role with a lightworker friend of mine. Apparently the Network of Light will have a fair number of gatekeepers. I don't know what a gatekeeper does, but it's a role carried out by the person's higher consciousness, and not a physical task.

Later note (April 2008) - Fiction, fiction, fiction! That channelled information came from the astral forces which were interfering with me. Yes the 'lightworker' did corroborate the story about gatekeepers and the Network of Light, but that was because astral forces were interfering with him too and giving him similarly false information in order to lead us all astray. I had quite a saga with that 'lightworker' as you can read in Troublesome Astral ('Dark') Beings - My Own Experience.

As I now understand it, X was simply a no-soul incarnation, as I am, and that accounted for the strong 'energy' resonance between him and me, and for his seeming to have a very deep level of awareness and having a severe grounding problem that made him particularly vulnerable to entities and the astral forces. He had major interferences from the astral forces and the usual complement of attached parasitic 'lost' souls (as I had) but also had a powerful and very troublesome spirit attachment or partial walk-in (both of which are sorts of discarnate human consciousness in particular types of unfortunate predicament) - most likely the latter. It would have been the latter entity that was the major causal factor in his mass of emotional and behavioural problems, including his compulsive association with criminals and 'druggies' and thus no doubt taking on various of their ways.

He most likely really did get 'guided' to encounter me, but I'm not sure to what extent that was for the purpose of gaining him healing or to try to cause problems for me - though, on the basis of all my experiences with him I'm sure that his conscious attitude towards me has always been benign and indeed remarkably trusting, seeing me as a very positive person who he'd never want to harm or cause trouble for.

According to my 'inner source', X's inner voices were actually impersonations put there by his higher consciousness as some sort of training for him*, and his task was to ignore the voices and instead tune into his deepest wisdom and good sense and use that as his guidance, so there was something of a parallel with the troublesome channelling and guidance interferences that I'd been experiencing. As for his label of 'schizophrenic', that was just a psychiatrist's way of shrugging off responsibility for really paying attention to the issues that needed resolving. Give the person a label for a disorder, and, hey presto, you've already done much of your job - you can then make some sort of attempt to 'treat' the disorder, and in the process you let the person down completely.

* Later note (April 2008) - More fiction! His 'voices' were also the astral ('dark') forces, just as were my own interferences - though certainly ignoring them and not interacting at all with them would have been greatly helpful for him.

Early the following morning I was just dressing when X knocked on my door and I bade him enter. He sat down on my bed and said something about himself that caused him to start to crying - exactly what he needed to do - and I sat down beside him and put a supportive arm around his shoulders. At that moment, the door opened and one of the nurses looked in. Another admonishment - "You're not supposed to be sharing rooms, you know..." I can only imagine what that nurse thought had been going on between myself and X! But even if we had been doing that, so bloody well what?

I sensed then a difficult energy from various nurses; clearly news about X and myself had got around and caused a certain consternation, and I felt that I was soon going to get some sort of more detailed admonishment. This came after breakfast from one of the more senior nurses, who warned me not to have anything to do with X, making various dark innuendos about him. The innuendos no doubt had substance - I was quite aware from my own 'reading' that he was likely to have been and still to be in a lot of trouble with the Law and would need treating with healthy circumspection. However, it was apparent that there was another side to him - the more human side - which all these people were failing to recognise, and he had come to me for healing and guidance and was showing a deep trust in me which was quite extraordinary for the sort of person who everybody was seeing him as. Neither were the nurses recognising my own standing as an enlightened healer as distinct from some old fool in his 60s who'd simply got infatuated with a young fellow who would take him for a ride and steal all his possessions and maybe murder him in his bed as well for good measure.

Later that day X managed to escape from the hospital, but returned the following morning, making a bee-line for me. He had a meeting with his psychiatrist there later that morning and indeed persuaded him to call me into the meeting to explain his situation. I take my hat off to that particular psychiatrist, who, despite saying he disagreed with my viewpoint, at least listened with concentration and then thanked me warmly for my explanation and admitted that I'd made sense for him of certain things about X which had had him baffled.

You see? The views which I as an enlightened healer have on such matters may look far-out from a materialist's viewpoint, but, unlike anything that a materialist can come up with, my view provides explanations that 'add up' and make sense of all aspects of our life, without having to recourse to "Perhaps there isn't any cause for that" or "That just happened" or "It was just chance that it worked out that way". I explore and demolish such nonsenses in depth in my article On the Nature of Reality and Truth.

* Later note (April 2007) - Okay, my explanations at that time contained a variety of confusions and fictions that had come from the astral forces, but nonetheless they were at least pointing to true healing approaches, which is more than could be said of the medical angle. Nowadays I'd still point to a broader perspective than the latter, but without the fictions and confusions.

X left soon after, having been 'de-sectioned', and then it was up to him to get in touch with me at home for further healing / guidance as appropriate. Well, he'd benefited from coming into the hospital, but, as far as I can tell, that benefit was from his meeting with me there and nothing else. Schizophrenic, my arse! Some difficult issues, yes, but they needed understanding, addressing and resolving, not labelling as a disorder and then 'treated'. And, particularly important in his case, those difficult issues couldn't even begin to be understood without looking at him and his life from a broader perspective than the physical and 'mental'.

"We want to keep you under observation..."

I learnt that a ward round was due on my first Friday. The ward round was a sequence of meetings with each of the patients, involving the consultant, usually the ward doctor, and a nurse and possibly other helpers who'd been associated with the particular patient. This was where patients' cases were reviewed, and so I assumed that I could then make the case that I was perfectly well and be released forthwith. In the event, that ward round was postponed from the morning because of the consultant having been called out, and then it didn't happen in the afternoon either. To my dismay I then found that I was stuck there for the weekend, but with a promise that I'd be seeing the doctor or consultant on the Monday and could put my case then. Prior to that Monday two successive very nice nurses who were both pretty 'open' and aware, and actually very sympathetic to me and my situation, interviewed me so that they could be supportive to me in any reviews with doctor / consultant, and indeed both got very interested because I explained to them about their own depth of awareness and how they were actually strong healing channels themselves.

Getting reminders of Mr K...

On Monday there was no consultation with the doctor after all - but I did manage to buttonhole the doctor informally and spoke very directly to him in a manner that I think he was not well used to.  I told him in a friendly but forthright manner that I, as a perfectly well citizen, had every reason to be very angry with him for keeping me in against my will and when I was so clearly well and in an emotionally stable state, and it was very important that I be let out without further delay and allowed to get on with my important work*. Confronted like this, he changed his normal supercilious stance and sought to sound sympathetic, saying that he understood and would do his best to help when we met at the ward round on Wednesday.

* As previously explained, there really was some 'rescue' work that was quite urgent for me to get doing on my computer, but I didn't want to go talking of that situation to these doctors, because I was fairly sure that they would simply regard the story that I would have told them as more justification for their keeping me in hospital. I really wanted to keep right away from telling the doctors any of the specifics of what had been going on for me during the ordeals - something completely outside their understanding.

By this stage a funny name was starting to pop up in my mind. Kafka. You know of that fellow? The Czech author Franz Kafka, who wrote The Castle, The Trial, and other mind-numbingly dreary but disconcertingly salutary novels portraying labyrinthine, depersonalized bureaucracy. As I slowly paced up and down the two corridors I looked out of the windows across the courtyard to other parts of this extensive old building and thought of The Castle, which I'd given up reading when I was about halfway through, and chuckled. Was my story about all this here going to be so cheerless or so boring? But then I thought also of how I'd heard that even Kafka's short story Metamorphosis, which at least hadn't bored me and had made me cry my guts out, had actually caused its author to fall about himself with laughter. I have a pretty good motto for myself, and, come to think of it, for everybody else too - There's a laughing space in everything. Yes, I knew, the sillier this all got here, the better and more meaningful the story I would have to tell at the end of it all...

So, it dragged on. So stupid. All that the doctor really need have done was to recognise that I was okay and get to my paperwork and rescind the Section 2 rubbish right there and then. But they have 'procedures' of course, against which basic human rights are seen as nothing. And the fact that various of the nurses - very likely pretty well all of them - considered that I should not be still held there carried no weight because the system required that I couldn't be released without a signature from a doctor, and even then it wasn't for a nurse to simply go to a doctor and say "This man shouldn't be here [because...], and so please sign here to release him". No, one had to wait for the next formal session, regardless of any human rights abuse that was involved in continuing the imprisonment.

Thank goodness! We've found something at last!

On Wednesday the ward doctor told me I wouldn't have long to wait as I was just second in the ward round list. In the event I was put back till last. I was so sure that I just needed to put my case and would be released at once - but it didn't go like that. The consultant and doctor asked me loaded questions about my special and positive qualities, and it was clear that they were perceiving each as a psychiatric disorder. I'd previously mentioned my having acted up at the beginning in response to guidance I'd received, so they were asking about that. "You mean you hear voices?"

Ouch!* However I described my guidance in the face of the series of questions of that sort, it was clear that to these men of limited outlook my receiving guidance was none other than 'hearing voices' and thus to be seen as a psychiatric disorder. For them, the expression 'hearing voices' was like a Pavlovian trigger. I got the strong impression that their minds were loaded with a small and unedifying repertoire of such trigger expressions which rang the "DISORDER!" bell for them. Evidently experienced healers generally would thus also be seen as having a disorder which was causing them to 'hear voices', and cause their psychiatrists to salivate as they clocked up their little list of - er - disorders.

* Later note (August 2008) - It needs explaining here that up to that very point it had not occurred to me that ever since I'd started channelling I had actually been getting simply my own version of the sort of manifestation which doctors and psychiatrists routinely call 'hearing voices' (always with the woefully inaccurate assumption that it is just malfunction of the mind or brain and that there is nothing actually speaking to the person). So, I was initially quite taken aback to have what I'd been regarding as my (albeit usually very troublesome) 'guidance' being interpreted as the supposedly medical condition of 'hearing voices'.

However, the plus side of this was that the superficially unwelcome surprise related above gave me my first really strong nudge towards beginning to understand the universality of interferences from the astral forces, so that I could before long start to use my own experiences for the benefit of mental healthcare generally on a global basis - as I am now doing, largely through this website.

After having been through my various special qualities, not least my awareness of my having a higher purpose for this lifetime (I think 'having a higher purpose' was another of their Pavlovian triggers), the consultant thanked me warmly for giving all this valuable information, which had raised a number of important questions - his tone implying that the 'questions' were actually instances of particular psychiatric disorders. I didn't trouble to ask them how many 'bells' had rung for them during their little interrogation. They wanted to keep me in a bit longer yet, under observation, and would review my case again in the ward round on Friday.

I delivered an articulate bit of my general critique of their whole psychiatry mindset, which clearly embarrassed them, and I accused them of violating my basic human rights, but they knew they still had the upper hand because of that nonsensical Section 2 provision. I told them that I was thinking of taking out legal action against them for wrongful detention. They weren't worried about that, no doubt because they already knew that it would be unworkable to do so, as in fact I later established from a lawyer to be the case.

The consultant warned me that if I got cross with them it would make things more difficult for them to give me a favourable outcome on Friday - a sure sign, if any further sign were needed - that the whole issue here was really nothing to do with my health, whether it were physical or mental, but a blatant issue of wielding personal power over an inmate. Any ordinary person in my situation there would have had cause to be not just "cross" but more like irate at being kept in like this.

By this stage I had an appeal pending against my being held under Section 2, but the doctors seemed happy to keep me in until the appeal overturned their decision - knowing well that the hearing wouldn't be for at least a week yet and then it would be a few more days before the result of the appeal was notified. They clearly wanted a run for their money. My basic rights as a citizen were not a concern of theirs.

I was disturbed at the way that the nurse had kept quiet and didn't speak up for me in that session - though I say that not as a criticism of the nurse, who was a lovely and good hearted person, but of the whole hospital mindset which doesn't allow nurses to speak straight out to doctors. However, that evening a very friendly and sympathetic nurse on the night shift told me that the nurse who'd been in on my session had actually spoken up for me after I'd left the session, and had managed to get the consultant to see my situation in a more positive light so that I should have a more favourable outcome on Friday.

...And I eat babies too!

On Friday my name was put back to last on the ward round list, but at least I did get seen, mid-afternoon. The consultant said that they were concerned about me because of my having got agitated on my first Monday at the hospital and because of all the 'questions' that had been raised in the last ward round. The consultant then asked me further questions. "I hear that you've been having sexual feelings for some of the patients on the ward", he started, as I groaned within - another Pavlovian trigger, which would undoubtedly lead to more... 

Actually it may not have been so much when I'd been seen with an arm around X that had now come back to roost, but rather, a certain breach of confidence on the part of one or two very nice and seemingly sympathetic nurses to whom I'd mentioned about the catheter causing me pain at night when I had erections, which latter had come quite frequently for a few nights as X's higher consciousness had connected with me and resulted in his sending me an erotically loving energy body or 'etheric double'* - a phenomenon that often occurs between myself and various people with whom I am very strongly connected. Anyway, whatever the exact communication pathway, the rumour had gone pear shaped as in that party game which, when I was young, I knew as Chinese Whispers, and 'one' had become 'some'. In fact I didn't have desire even for X, for as an enlightened person - something beyond the understanding of psychiatrists - I let go of desire whenever it seeks to arise, and instead I allow a mutual resonance of love, without any sense of attachment or clinging.

Love? What's that? This isn't a bordello, you know...

* Later note (April 2007) - Much more recently I gained a new insight into this phenomenon, and it turns out that many and probably the vast majority of such experiences that I'd been having were the result of the astral 'entities' seeking to manipulate me and get me to hanker after close involvement with highly inappropriate people. I was actually being given simulations of particular people sending me erotic 'energy bodies'.

In the case of X, I was resonating in a positive and healthy and loving but non-sexual way with his basic energy makeup, but the entities were seeking to get me resonating with all his problematical tendencies (drugs and criminality and self gratification) by trying to get me associating that positive resonance with their attacks upon me with feelings of sexual arousal to try to get me to become emotionally attached to him and involve myself with him, in order to turn me away from my path of positivity and healing and happiness and into a maelstrom of depravity and torment. They signally failed to achieve their goal.

I now understand that a high proportion of inappropriate sexual desires that people experience worldwide are caused by attempts by such entities to control the particular people and point them away from true, mutually respecting love and towards self gratification, thrill seeking and acting out power and control issues (which are all based on fear, not love), so bringing disharmony, unhappiness and indeed in some cases tremendous torment into their lives.

The questions that followed from the consultant about my sexual feelings and orientation were completely gratuitous and demeaning. He wanted to know whether I was attracted by men, by women, by children, and how often and even when I'd had sex this year... Amazing - that this man was allowed to call himself a doctor and claim to be some sort of healer! I could feel and hear his particularly strong interest in the question about children. That was surely one of the real prime Pavlovian triggers for them! Surely I lusted after children - please let it be! But no, I didn't have a skeleton in my cupboard there, and so, that "DISORDER!" bell couldn't ring for them. Oh, how he wanted to discover abnormalities and disorders by the delicious dozen!

The dear soul actually missed a trick because he omitted to ask whether I'd 'done it' orally, but I guess if he'd salivated at that Pavlovian trigger it would have been a bit too close to the - er - knuckle. And then afterwards I realized I'd missed a trick too, because I hadn't told him about my ravishing of dead sheep during my hikes on Dartmoor and also my putting prime Tamworth sows in the family way during my raunchy farmyard visits. I like Tamworth pigs - they have style...  But then I knew I had to go a bit carefully because I was pretty determined that I would get out today.

Later on, the nurse who'd been in on the session assured me that it was all okay and there had been no discrimination against me on the basis of sexual orientation, because the same set of questions was asked quite routinely of many inmates, regardless of their orientation. Oh great!

Another bit of creative rumour (or humour) relating to X showed up, because the consultant remarked that apparently I thought X was "some sort of Second Coming" (yes, his exact words!). Where the eff did he pick that one up? Could it be that this was another sexual reference?

Clearly the consultant wanted to find in me a messianic belief in some involvement of mine in a Second Coming, but it was a bit brazen that he arrived at that conclusion from my having told X and certain of the nurses (with X's permission), as any true healer could have done, that he was a very special person, allegedly with at least one very important role in the future... But then, after all that joking of mine about these doctors' Pavlovian triggers, sadly we must remember that, for such doctors, who think almost exclusively in terms of disorders, the mere fact of openly acknowledging and cultivating a person's special and positive qualities appears problematical to start with.

Doctor, please cure me of my fixation on being let out!

Anyway, after all that, unsurprisingly the consultant said he still really wanted to keep me under observation. However, he was prepared to allow me out on four days' leave, still under the provisions of Section 2, so that I'd then have to return on Tuesday to see him again - this all told to me in a very grudging tone, as though my going home was not really in my best interests. I was repeatedly asked "Do you really think you could cope, back at home?"

These 'doctors' really wanted to see me as ill and needing their 'care'! I would say, if anyone was 'ill', it was them! Well, I didn't counter their question with something about a gay three-legged salamander perhaps not being able to cope when released from these gentlemen's clutches but as I myself didn't have a third leg to unbalance me... (you get the picture?) and instead just sounded somewhat surprised that they had any doubt about the matter of my copabillity at home.

Feeling a need to help?
As a true healer, I'm all too familiar with the pattern (mental habit) that various healers and care workers carry, which causes them to want to help people and so seek to put the would-be helper into the helper position, so putting other people into the powerless, need-to-be-helped role. Initially it can look like a paradox that anyone who has a strong feeling of 'wanting to help' actually needs to hold back on that and first to address and release the emotional issues which he is carrying which make him feel that he wants to help. Only then, when fully honouring and looking after himself, can that person be healthily helpful and truly beneficial to others.

In this particular case in Z Hospital, not only these dear, well-meaning doctors, but the whole psychiatric setup clearly had this affliction. Even the social worker follow-up upon my release was thrown into some bewilderment because I insisted that I was perfectly well and there was nothing to follow up, I not being in need of psychiatric care. I was made to feel that there must be something a bit peculiar about me because I was insistent that I didn't need follow-up psychiatric care!

The need for all people who are carrying patterns of "I need you to be ill so that I can care for you" is to address their own emotional issues, even if it's initially uncomfortable. These issues may be quite buried to start with as the people carrying them have been running around unawarely pretending to themselves that it wasn't them that needed healing but the other people.

Actually all doctors and other care workers would do much better to have well established self healing or self help processes running, and have a pretty good understanding of their own emotional makeup and emotional issues and difficulties before they even consider helping or healing others. How many psychiatric doctors in the land have any of that?

Actually I can pretty securely give the answer to that rhetorical question - 'virtually none' - because any of them who gained something of that self knowledge and self command would understand enough to get out of psychiatry and apply themselves in more beneficial directions.

My general impression was that the only reason that I was being allowed out at all at this stage* was because I'd made such a fuss and was making the doctors feel so uncomfortable and embarrassed by my forthright and articulate criticisms of their horrendously misguided psychiatry mindset and their claims to be healing people, and by my repeatedly and openly accusing both the system and them personally of abusing and violating my basic human rights. I'm sure they were not at all used to such responses to them from anyone who they saw as a 'patient'.

* Later note (April 2008) - My 'take' on this now, supported by some energy testing, is that it was almost certainly not the only reason, though it was still a major factor. My 'reading' now is that in fact the doctor and consultant were somewhat bemused by my rapid 'recovery' from the initial disturbances, seeing that I'd had only a little initial medication, and were unsure as to what to do about me. On the face of it, yes, I looked as though fully recovered and not at all in a state that warranted my being in hospital, but they'd no doubt had various other inmates who had seemed to have phases of all-rightness and phases of supposed psychosis or whatever, and they were thus wary of my own apparent all-rightness so soon after a patch of what they would have labelled as psychosis, together with my various positive attributes which they were clearly interpreting as some sort of either mental illness or personality disorder.

It was perfectly understandable, therefore, that they were willing, but only reluctantly so, to let me out just then, particularly as I'm pretty sure that they had really been wanting to have more time in which they might persuade me that I needed ongoing medication. The poor guys really wanted to 'help', but simply had no idea what true help would have involved.

So, I was actually allowed out then, and returned home. On the Sunday I had a phone call from one of the nurses on the ward, asking how I was getting on. She sounded mighty doubtful that I would be coping, and thus sounded equally surprised when I laughed and said, of course I was doing fine, for as a perfectly well citizen I shouldn't have been imprisoned in the hospital in the first place. She sounded mighty impressed that I sounded so buoyant and upbeat, which struck me as funny and strange. (Had the consultant put in my records that I was a gay three-legged salamander?) Then on Monday another nurse phoned from the ward to ask how I was getting on. She sounded a little bit surprised too when I said I was doing fine. (She too must have seen something in my records...) At least those nurses presumably would give positive reports back for the meeting with the consultant on Tuesday (perhaps like "We've never known a gay three legged salamander do that well at home!"?), and surely the consultant would then not have a leg to stand on for keeping me in any more.

Later note (April 2008) - In all fairness to those really nice nurses, it is worth adding here that even at the time, although I saw the funny side as pointed to above, I was also actually quite surprised and touched that they were taking an interest and checking that I was all right.

In the light of my subsequent experiences I came to recognise that I couldn't take for granted any future freedom from severe entity attacks, which, as I recount further below, came to me in periodic phases, and thus I actually came to fully appreciate follow-up calls from support workers, whether they be nurses or community support workers - despite any slightly funny ideas they might have because they were unfamiliar with my situation and what was behind it. Generally I enjoyed being to some extent their educator about what was actually going on for me and what my actual needs were, as this was all helping to show them that there was a better way than the so-called 'medical model' - and in any case they were generally simply nice people to have a chat with.

Forget about that schizo -- Beware of ME!

Tuesday came and the consultant seemed as uncomfortable as ever to meet me. He said he really thought that on the basis of the 'questions' (i.e. supposed disorders) that had come to light in the information which I'd given them about myself, there were significant reasons for my staying in the hospital for the time being, to be kept under observation, but he also admitted that he now had to acknowledge that I really didn't want to stay (My God, he'd noticed!) and reports from the nurses indicated that I was managing to cope on my own back at home - as though I hadn't managed perfectly well living on my own at home for decades! For that matter I'm sure even a gay three-legged salamander would cope perfectly well with just a little encouragement.

It was still a concern of his, originally stated in the previous ward round, that I might once again run into the sort of circumstances that had had led to my being sent to Z Hospital in the first place, and he wanted me to understand that "we are reluctant to allow you out of the hospital if you're just going to run into the same problem and come back here again". Just how I was supposed to sort out my home circumstances while being kept in hospital was not explained.

Now, since when have hospitals been saying such a thing to somebody who's been in for a broken bone or a cancer? Somebody slips on the ice and cracks a bone - does the hospital say "We're keeping you in for the rest of the winter because we can't be reasonably sure you won't slip and come back with another fracture"? They want to get their patients out and doing okay at home as soon as possible - but this psychiatric unit wanted to cling onto this particular inmate with the most amazing excuses! It wasn't, either, as though they'd ever actually been through with me what had been going on for me at home which had led to my arrival at the hospital and then sought to help to prevent such a problematical situation from recurring - but then of course that was not something which would have been reasonable to expect of them in the light of their closed minds and slavish adherence to their 'medical model' which in reality was no model at all of the human mind or human consciousness... (memories of a certain roasting smell on a memorable recent Sunday - and it wasn't my lunch either, unless of course there's a hell in which one eats one's own roasted flesh, but I don't think there is...)

The consultant then told me - it sounded as though it was meant to be some sort of trump card - that actually my collection of what I'd been calling special qualities were what he and other psychiatric workers regarded as indicators of my having a personality disorder which he called mild schizotype (pronounced with the final 'e' as an extra syllable). Thanks for that, Doc - just what I wanted for my joyful little verse further down this page!

That was, apparently, supposed to be a particular reason for my staying in and being observed and maybe even 'treated' by them. The very thought! Actually, one more extraordinary thing about this whole most unedifying episode - those two doctors never, never spoke of actually treating me or any supposed disorder of mine. Keeping me under observation was all they had ever spoken of. Any notion of 'treatment' was at best only implicit.

-- Hey, I think I've got it. That was the 'treatment'.

Eh?

I mean, keeping me prisoner, 'under observation', silly! Of course, that has to be it! THAT was the cure! And look what it's done for me! It's cured me of my last remaining vestiges of reticence over speaking out publicly against psychiatry. Bless those two dear doctors! I owe them each a warm and affectionate hug!

Presumably Jesus and all our healers and spiritual teachers and promoters of self realization had or have this 'mild schizotype' condition (arguably not always so 'mild'!) and need hospitalization and treatment to bring them down to a blinding mediocrity of some supposed normality.

Anyway, because of my regrettable insistence on going home and my having demonstrated that I could manage there, the consultant admitted that it was "no longer tenable" for him to keep me there against my will (effing right, Mrs White!), and so I left as a free man with Section 2 lifted from me.

"But you must understand - I have a career..."

One of the various things that struck me about the consultant and the ward doctor was a distinct air of something akin to sadness about them - particularly that final time I met them. I encountered the doctor in the ward soon after my final meeting with the consultant. I knew these were not happy people. That unhappiness, presumably below the surface, seemed to be accentuated now, for they seemed to know inwardly that I was not only beyond their reach but I had something precious which they felt was barred to them. Being an empathetic person, I could feel something of that sort-of sadness of theirs, and nowhere was it stronger than when they each came to a point of agreement with me, almost for the first time. At this occasion of parting, they each actually came to agree with me that in future it would be best for me, in the event of any apparent crisis situation like what had landed me at Z Hospital this time, to have alternative contingency arrangements already in place so that I wouldn't get pointed to a hospital at all and so be wasting the time of doctors for whom my particular issues were not relevant.

Yes, yes! They had both, independently, finally acknowledged what I had told them, and what almost anyone who wasn't a psychiatric doctor could have told them, in the first place! Yet my feeling at this point was particularly the inner sadness (or similar) of these two men. I can only surmise at what was stopping them from making a break and opening out to something of what I had been gently pointing them to during my whole stay in this hospital - though it felt like it was speaking directly out from them both: "How I'd like to learn something of your way! But you must understand - I have a career..."

I felt and do feel great empathy for these and the countless other doctors and other care professionals in a similar situation - but they have the answer to that issue in their very own hands. True healing begins when we take what is for us a courageous first step to lead us out of our self-created prisons of notionally comfortable personal circumstances, and start to embrace the truth that there really is greener grass - and a lot more besides! - the other side of that fence. When a career or professional / academic reputation is involved, it can seem a scary and even impossible step to take - to start asking oneself what one is achieving in that career. "Is this where I really want to be?" And, very importantly, "Does it really matter so much what people think of me if I start exploring and stepping beyond my current perceived limits? What would be the actual benefits of doing so?"

A good starting point for such people is the recognition: "I am not my career", and then, "What is most important about me is not any career of mine but ME". The so-called 'Christian work ethic' has a lot to answer for in having pervaded our culture with the insidious notion that our true life task is simply our career and we have little or no intrinsic worth as ourselves. Thankfully, many of us have now got clear of that misinformation and are discovering for ourselves how much more there is to life, and finding an underlying life purpose which had previously been hidden from us by our own unawareness, and which points us in fully positive and rewarding directions relating to ourselves and the others around us.

As I well know from my own experience of initiating positive changes in my life which meant stepping outside my limits as perceived at that time, the scary prospect of facing disapproval from some quarters and losing certain friends could feel intimidating, but this became outweighed as I gave proper consideration to where I could be pointing. And that was towards a more exciting and fulfilling life experience - on the one hand letting go of old and miserable feelings and all those friendships and relationships which would hold me back, and on the other hand experiencing new and more rewarding activities, drawing in new people into my life who were appropriate to and supportive of my new, positive direction.

I have left behind 'friends' who were attached to how I seemed to be at those times in the past and so didn't want me to change. And now, for all the apparent troubles and tribulations of my own uniquely challenging positive life direction, I am beginning to draw in people who who are truly like-minded and LOVE me - and that love is mutual. THAT'S what I'd been so afraid of before I made my first big step - which gives a whole new meaning to that horrible taunt "Don't look so worried; it might never happen"! 

I have found that once that seemingly tremendously intimidating first step has been taken and a positive life direction becomes established, further positive steps are nothing like as difficult to take, even if they too look formidable in anticipation. In taking such a positive direction we learn that we can face the fear that had been holding us back and had been often manifesting as limiting self perceptions, and know that the world does not fall apart when we take a forward step that may subjectively feel like abandoning much of what we'd ever known.

We discover more and more that it is as though the world, the Universe, the Cosmos, has been ever so patiently waiting all along for us to make each step and gently encourage us forward to the next one. And so we gradually discover that, far from being an indifferent or even hostile environment in which we just have to make do somehow, the Universe is actually a loving, nurturing environment for our own learning and gaining of wisdom, in which we are given the means and the encouragement that are necessary for us to follow our directions of positive change, growth and broadening horizons. New and more appropriate friendships and close relationships are always available to us and are naturally drawn to us as our horizons widen.

On this website I give a variety of pointers and means to assist people in initiating or enhancing their own requisite positive change and life direction. There is plenty here for people considering their first forward step, and likewise for those who are well on the way.

I embrace and salute all who get moving in this positive, healing direction. This is where real personal power comes in, for by bringing about such change in your own life you are positively affecting everyone who connects with you or relates with you in any way, and assisting them in their own emergence. We need not to be fooled by apparent negative reactions from those who on the surface do not understand, for those reactions are signs of their starting to feel challenged; in fact, in a small way their own process of positive life change has already started.

With these points in mind, I can say with great security that there is absolutely no reason why, some time in the future, I couldn't find that particular circumstances bring the ward doctor or the consultant who I have been referring to, or indeed both of them, together with me as healer friends - true healers - then living very different and more rewarding lives than currently. And then, oh boy - would we get laughing together!

To Psy-chi-a-tree

Beware the one of clear mind who has eyes that see!

Beware he who makes light of dark and sets minds free!

Beware the one who works it all out while he sits in the la-va-t'ree!

Beware the one who finds a laughing space in everything!

Beware, beware! YOUR DAYS ARE NUMBERED, so get yourself packing!

and FLEE, FLEE THE WILD, WILD SCHI-ZO-TY-PEE!

Some lessons from this experience

The Mental Health Act needs revision

In the UK we have so-called mental heath legislation that is a clear breach of human rights and should be amended without delay. Section 2 of the Mental Health Act of 1983 is notorious for this breach of human rights and has been widely misused, and yet politicians have still not seen fit to do anything about it. Why not? For no good reason, that's for sure!

I wrote to Ben Bradshaw, my Member of Parliament, giving him a link to this page, and was disgusted at his complete lack of interest in the subject. He suggested that if I wanted to complain I could discuss the matter with my doctor...

Section 2 provides for three main situations, any one of which would be grounds for keeping a patient in hospital against his will. I do not know the actual wording of the Act, so I am here detailing the substance. The allowed reasons for detaining a patient are:

• The person is a danger or potential danger to the community;
• The person is a danger or potential danger to himself;
• The person has a mental condition which in the view of a psychiatric doctor requires his being kept in hospital.

There clearly is a case for the first two options - particularly the first. But it is the third provision which defies commonsense and allows a doctor to effectively imprison anyone if they just don't happen to fit or indeed if they look like an interesting specimen to keep under observation. It actually gives a Draconian power which could even lead to the sort of excesses that were the hallmark of the old USSR, where political dissenters were routinely imprisoned in psychiatric hospitals. While I don't seriously expect the UK to go that far, there is no good reason for having legislation which makes such a state of affairs possible and in any case has enabled many serious violations of human rights to occur.

The only justifiable reasons for a psychiatric doctor deciding that a person should be kept in hospital against his will are surely the first two provisions listed above - if the person is a danger to himself or to the community or there is very strong evidence that he may be so - and even these could easily be abused. The third provision effectively gives free range to the doctor's whim and invites him to play God (and not any God who I'd want to know) with people's lives in a way that is inconsistent with civilization in the 21st Century. I cannot think of even one contingency in which this provision would be necessary for a beneficial purpose, and cannot understand the mentality of those who allowed it into this legislation.

If a person is judged by a doctor to be having delusions, so what? Free choice is a basic human right, as long as it isn't negatively and seriously impinging upon other people, and it is a fundamental right of ours that we be allowed our own, even deluded, perceptions of reality. Indeed, I know from my own perspective as an enlightened being, that ALL psychiatric doctors are deluded, so who is going to 'section' and hospitalize all of them so that they can be supposedly cured of their delusions (against their will)? Similarly, having emotional issues and at times instabilities is the normal human condition and is not cause to imprison people in a hospital or anywhere else, except if they become a danger to others or possibly to themselves. (The latter is actually contentious, because from a more enlightened perspective it is understood that people have a right to harm and even kill themselves in cases where it isn't harming other people (even though it's highly unlikely to be for their ultimate good for them to do so). That is already tacitly acknowledged in cultures around the globe, which allow people, for example, to smoke and so harm themselves and indeed thus subject themselves to unpleasant lingering deaths.)

In my own case there was nothing that showed me to be a danger to myself*, let alone to the community, and so even my having behaved strangely and appeared to get agitated when the nurses were preventing me from leaving was no justification for my being held at all - if we set aside the weasel words of that third provision in Section 2.

* Later note (April 2008) - For the sake of giving the complete picture, it's worth mentioning that that statement was true with regard to the information available to the hospital staff, but actually while I'd been under very severe pressure from the entities there had actually been two threats to my safety: (a) it had become extremely difficult for me to continue getting my meals, and (b) the entities (posing as higher guidance, giving a convoluted story to back up their instructions) at times instructed me to do the odd things which could potentially have killed me, particularly by smashing my skull.

Yes, I had been asked at the hospital if I'd ever thought of harming myself, and the honest answer which I gave was "No, definitely not", because I didn't see something which I was being instructed to do as being my own thoughts, and I'd never had any wish or intent of my own to harm myself.

Indeed, the nurses and doctors at Z Hospital had much evidence that I was a significantly beneficial person in the community, though the nurses there sought to prevent me from being overtly beneficial to any of the patients and so I had to be sparing and discreet about that - I gave a minimal overt healing to a mere four of the patients while I was there, though quite possibly a certain amount of healing energy was quietly channelling through me to pretty well everyone who I encountered there, and my overall outlook would have been something of a 'brightener' for the whole setup there. The community lost out considerably through a hospital incarcerating me like that - except in that by doing so the hospital gave me the ammunition to enable me to formulate a public message that I had been wanting to put out for a long time but hadn't before had the basis of experience upon which I could usefully do so.

A warning to psychics, healers, spiritual teachers and 'lightworkers' in the UK

Your ungrounded, astrally sourced energy awareness* will get you labelled as having the schizotype personality disorder. If you allow yourself for any reason to become a hospital patient for a non-physical issue, not only the manifestations of your ungroundedness but also your special and positive qualities will most likely be noticed and will be seen as at least possible disorders and very likely used as reason to 'section' you; it would then be quite a struggle for you to get out. Theoretically some doctors could even force 'treatment' upon you for your supposed disorder(s), this sanctioned by Section 2 of the Mental Health Act. That treatment would include mind-affecting drugs but also could include the very harmful ECT. None of those treatments would assist you in any way to get more grounded, and most would actually further weaken your grounding, as well as causing other problems very long term.

* For more about grounding please see Healing and Self Realization - The Safest and Quickest Way.

In my own case, if I got into another apparent crisis situation, if at all  possible I'd arrange to sleep out of my flat for a night or so with a friend or acquaintance, rather than allow any possibility of getting shunted off to hospital again.

Later note: Later I found that, in the continued absence of any friends to go and stay with, there was another way of handling any further crisis situation - to get in touch with the Crisis Resolution Team (CRT) attached to the hospital. This team seeks to assist people to manage their crises without having to go into hospital, and one of the options open to them is, with the person's agreement, to put them into respite care, which would be better for some people and situations, but also the CRT can facilitate hospital admission if, on discussion, it is agreed that that would be the best option. I recount later experiences with them further below.

The power hierarchy in hospitals needs a radical overhaul

One highly problematical thing that showed up again and again during my stay at Z Hospital was that doctors were regarded by the whole system as superior and not to be questioned by other than fellow doctors. Because the whole system works that way, it isn't fair to criticize the doctors for their commonly supercilious and 'unquestionable' attitudes when the system within which they work actually encourages them to work that way. That is a crass setup, because nursing staff are the ones who best know the patients and indeed have masses of practical experience, and they should be not only free to but required to speak straight to doctors at all times, constructively calling into question the doctors' views about particular patients and even telling them directly and openly when they're clearly wrong. And of course conversely, doctors should be required to ask for the views of nurses and to take their views fully into account in making their decisions.

This is particularly true in psychiatric hospitals, where doctors are renowned for their lack of healing knowledge or ability, and patients' issues are by and large understood better by the nurses than the doctors - well, this latter point certainly if my own experience was anything to go by.

"Heal thyself first!"

I have already covered this here. This is crucial for all people in caring professions and activities.

A person doesn't warrant an 'ill' or 'disordered' label  just because he hears voices!

You wouldn't seriously call a person mentally ill just because she has troublesome neighbours or is being bullied at school - so it similarly makes no sense to call a person ill or label them with a personality disorder just because they have troublesome entities around them causing them trouble. Of course the tormenting entities, like school bullies or troublesome neighbours, may readily make a person ill, but their presence itself is not an illness but a troublesome situation which needs resolving and not hiding with medication or ECT.

Give precedence to getting patients out, not keeping them in!

That is commonsense which is generally applied in non-psychiatric hospitals, but, if my own experience is anything to go by, it is not always applied in psychiatric establishments, and I think the above "Heal thyself first" point applies. Care workers and institutions need to learn not to hold onto patients and to have a detached viewpoint from which they can rejoice in having worked themselves out of a job with regard to each successive patient. Giving precedence to keeping patients in is a sure sign of a failing system.

If you look at my own incarceration, there is an outstanding absurdity about it, for the alleged virtually-only reason for keeping me in at all was to keep me under observation. Can you or anyone, having read this far and knowing just a little about me and what brought me to the hospital in the first place, really imagine that those two doctors really had any idea what they would do with me once they'd kept me under observation long enough to find or not find whatever it was they were hoping that they might find or not find? Do you seriously imagine that any 'condition' that they'd find or not find would be curable by them?   No, SERIOUSLY!

About the consultant who dealt with me

With good reason I pillory the consultant and ward doctor in this account of mine - although I do not mean it in a personal way. However, it has been brought to my notice that the particular consultant is highly regarded and praised by the nurses and indeed a fair proportion of the patients for his open-mindedness and flexibility as compared with many other psychiatric consultants, about whom I have heard a variety of horror stories (unfortunately true ones).

This in no way detracts from my own observations, but rather, is an indication of the absolutely horrendous attitude of many psychiatric doctors and consultants, who should never have been allowed to practise as any sort of doctor or care worker until they'd got themselves properly sorted out and learnt true healing methods.

Hospitals and especially psychiatric establishments need frequent 'energy clearance'

The energy I'm referring to here is what you might call 'subtle' or non-physical energies - what are left from the minds and energy systems of people who have been in the building. Unawarely, wherever we go we leave an imprint of our state of mind, and especially of troublesome aspects of our state of mind, in particular places where we spen