I Discovered I Am a Human Experiment

This article was originally posted on December 30, 2021.

Schizophrenia is not a real diagnosis. If you don't believe me, you can read this blog post I made about phony schizophrenia diagnoses in nursing homes. Nevertheless, I was diagnosed with schizophrenia 10 years ago after first being diagnosed with bipolar disorder at a Poughkeepsie, New York, hospital (I have lived at home with my parents in Minnesota nearly the entire time since then).

My so-called mental illness began with what might be described as a nervous breakdown. I first started to become suspicious that the N.S.A. was tapping my phone because of audio aberrations when talking on the phone. I then suspected the F.B.I. was spying on me in person. Finally, I thought the C.I.A. was playing games with my mind.

Shortly after my first hospitalization in New York, I visited my uncle's mansion in Westchester County. There, he told me he went to West Point with the director of the N.S.A. (I later learned he also went to West Point with the director of the C.I.A.)

I have been trapped in the mental health system ever since. While I don't want to go into everything that's happened to me (that would take forever), I can say that I have been abused, assaulted, tortured, and poisoned. The worst thing that ever happened to me was when my brother tackled, beat, and strangled me (for a significant amount of time) exactly nine years ago (December 30 is my dad's birthday).

Why is the government using me as a human experiment? First, I suggest you read this article put out by the Ministry of Truth. That article, of course, will only tell you part of the story. In my case, I suspect I was chosen at birth for use as a human experiment because my dad (supposedly shortly before I was born) suffered some kind of accident that caused nerve damage, which has progressively weakened his ability to run and—now—walk. Of course, my uncle, being high up in the Army (he also works for the Justice Department), allowed the experiment to take place.

Maybe I will write more about this topic. I've never really written about it before for the fear of being labeled "crazy." As I mentioned in my previous blog post, I am currently at a crisis residence, which, like everything else in the mental health system, is not about helping people like me, though it is at least more livable than my previous living situation at home with my parents.

Being a human experiment is not easy. I've had numerous health concerns, including an ongoing neurological problem that makes thinking almost impossible approximately two times per week. Furthermore, this "experiment" is highly illegal and unethical. On top of that, what makes the whole ordeal particularly bleak is that no one in my family shows any indication of ever telling me the truth about my life. I worry I will die—or possibly even be violently murdered—without ever being accepted by my family or society.

There probably isn't much else to write, though it is likely I'm leaving out some important details. I'll end this post by saying, if you have a conscience, please don't have a family member become a human experiment. My brother fits the profile of a sociopath to a T, and it's likely my parents are sociopaths as well. If the government is reading this blog post—and they obviously are—I hope they decide to help me soon.

Article ID: 13