Drug Rape is Real and It Happened To Me

still-life

https://soundcloud.com/katarina-countiss/play

What is Toxic Love? It’s peer pressure.
They wanted to protect us but they didn’t know us. What they showed us and said “this” was not for us and we had to be stronger than our parents’ certainty.

They wanted to give us wings when we already had some… they forced these appendages on our body and said “fly.” I didn’t want to fly when they said “fly.” I wanted to show them my wings and how they were better, stronger and more functional. 

Up in the air they wouldn’t know which wings I was using. I didn’t want to give them false feedback. Their plan didn’t work.

Drugs are a danger to the body. I read that in the Medication Guide my pharmacist gave me. When I asked for a refill, they gave me papers that I almost said no thanks to, but instead I read it deep. What it was: anti-informative. It was fake information. I don’t believe in ignorance is bliss.

I was sent to the Psych Ward not because I hurt anyone or talked about hurting anyone. I had an idea virus called “Enough ideas means new person.” A person within. I’m 25, fully grown and have the genetics that would make me sick right about my time of conciousness awakening, when I saw everything around me for the first time and saw their true names that are unsayable.

But, it was real. I trust that reality to a fault. Which means I am stronger because my internal code and external code are one, except for the names I gave things. I use metaphor most of the time, but I decided that parts of me could have new names.

Listen to the above track and learn about communication theory, pop culture, and my generation’s struggle with media memories as real as non-media memories.

Drug rape: They treated me like a Child in the Ward. Not at the age of consent due to my hysteria. But, I was an adult and fighting for what I thought was right: I’m not sick, so don’t treat me. My friends understood but they were powerless. The establishment doesn’t anticipate the not-sick coming into the ward. There were no rules I felt I should abide by in there, but I learned to adapt. I took the minimal amount of drugs I needed to to get out. I did not consent to this toxic environment, I knew I needed real help.

Drugs are fake help and when they are forced, it’s a double whammy that no child can handle because they are not strong enough to refuse a system that also feeds them nutrients.

Love me and love my choices because you can’t send me back and you can’t make me take them. I will heal and you will see that I was right because I have my trustworthy expert that isn’t paid to sit and listen to me and she reveals the truth of my struggle, her struggle and the unspoken struggle of countless others.

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About KC

I am Katarina Countiss, a multimedia designer. I like blogs, games, art and technology. I am curious about how things are made.
This entry was posted in letters to a young poet, my life, Plural Thinking. Bookmark the permalink.

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