Vatic Note:  This is for our information on what we can expect if dissenting and becoming a political prisoner in a mental ward.   I found this revealing and useful in her story of what it was like for her to be in this mental ward for believing and saying that 9-11 was an inside job.   Remember you can't give a Medal of freedom to one of the insiders who helpled plan it and execute it, who committed an act of treason by conducting  war games about it and aided his son Clinton in doing the same thing back in 1996.   This is a good read and speaks very well for itself.   I need say no more.  Remember, this is exactly what Hitler did in the prewar 30's before he invaded. To gain complete control over his population he had to kill dissent and mental wards and prisons were the tools of choice. Keep that in mind as a road map to show us where we are going from here unless WE stop it. http://clareswinney.wordpress.com/incarcerated-in-a-psychiatric-ward-because-i-said-911-was-an-inside-job/

Held In A Psychiatric Ward & Called “Delusional” For Saying 9/11 Was An Inside Job

By Clare Swinney, Member of Scholars For 9/11 Truth & Justice.

I was wrongly diagnosed as delusional by the psychiatric staff of Ward 7 at Northland Base Hospital in Whangarei and held against my will for 11 days in mid-2006, because I maintained the attacks of 9/11 were orchestrated by criminal elements inside the US Administration.

A definition of delusional: relating to,  based on, or affected by delusions.  A delusion: a false belief strongly held in spite of invalidating evidence, especially as a symptom of mental illness.

In light of the definition, one of the most astounding aspects to the ordeal was that when I met with the chief psychiatrist, Dr Carlos Zubaran for two formal mental health assessments,  I held Issue 3 of Uncensored, which is shown in the picture above, and asked him to look at information related to the 9/11 attacks.  This magazine contained an article I’d written entitled: Why Does TVNZ Lie To Us About 9/11?, which cited evidence that proved the official fable was a lie – yet reminiscent of the fabled vampires afraid of the light of day, he refused to even cast his eyes over it, during both of the so-called “assessments.”

Another astounding aspect to what occurred was that Section 4 of the New Zealand Mental Health Act makes it clear that no one can be judged to be mentally ill solely on the basis of their political beliefs.   The District Inspector for Mental Health – Northland, barrister Julie Young; Bridget Westenra, the lawyer she appointed to assist me and the staff of Ward 7, including the chief psychiatrist, did not appear to know this.  

As can be seen, it is written in layman’s language on page 33 of Chapter 2 of Mental Health (Compulsory Assessment and Treatment) Act 1992,  which is on the Ministry of Health’s own website:  ‘You cannot be considered to have a mental disorder just because of your:   political, religious or cultural beliefs…’.

As this Judgement shows, because of his reluctance to scrutinize the evidence related to 9/11 and apparent lack of awareness of  Section 4 of the Act,  nine days into my incarceration, Dr Zubaran still held the belief I suffered from a “delusional disorder” owing to my political beliefs.

The evidence that shows the official story of 9/11 was indeed a lie is now overwhelming.  We now have what has been referred to as the “loaded gun” – this is the unignited nanothermite, a highly-advanced explosive substance, which was far too sophisticated a composite to have originated from a cave in Afghanistan. Think military.  Think US government.

The following article, which relates to what occurred in Ward 7, was published in Issue 8 of Uncensored.   Thankfully, since writing about what happened and making numerous phone calls, plus sending many letters, as well as supplying numerous DVDs to the staff of Ward 7 to show them the truth about 9/11 – and then finally threatening to protest outside the hospital,  the Clinical Director of Mental Health & Addiction Services in Northland sent an apology in August 2008, which can be viewed here.

Dr Zubaran did not apologise.

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Vatic Note:   This below is background and clares story of how she became a political prisoner in her country, which is New Zealand, I believe, will verify shortly.   Please read this as it is reminiscent of the days of Hitler early on when he began mental health treatment for political dissidents.I believe its a case of "reeducation" and "mind control" and if it didn't work, they were then put in prison.   If that didn't work the were killed.  

Political Prisoner

by Clare Swinney

Clare Swinney brought a complaint to the Broadcasting Standards Authority pointing out that TVNZ’s claim that Osama bin Laden carried out the attacks of 9/11 was an outright lie. Shortly afterwards, she was threatened and then incarcerated in a psychiatric ward. Following a week of compulsory treatment, the head psychiatrist told a judge that she should remain in hospital, as her belief that 9/11 was an inside job was evidence she was “delusional.” The judge agreed. This is her extraordinary story:

On the morning of June the 6th 2006, two social workers came to the door and advised that they’d come to take me to the public hospital’s psychiatric facility, as they’d heard I might be suicidal. Although I ventured to enlighten them I wasn’t, they didn’t listen as their unit had received a phone call from an ill-informed family member who’d said I might be on the verge of killing myself. As it was apparent from their demeanour that my psychological state was a foregone conclusion, I asked if my flatmate, Brian Kennedy could come with us and attest that I was fine and most certainly not suicidal.

I picked up my bag and appropriate evidence for the meeting and walked anxiously to their car, where one of them warned that the two police officers who had driven into the driveway, were there to stop me from running away.  In retrospect, I probably would have done if I’d known the emotional cost of what lay ahead.

At Whangarei Hospital, Brian and I were transferred into Ward 7, which is a secure, locked up area, and then herded into a meeting room, where we waited for several nail-biting minutes before the middle-aged psychiatric registrar, Dr Mothafar Abass entered and introduced himself. In a rather detached fashion, he advised that he would be conducting my suicide risk assessment, and then hurried through it, as if he was pressed for time.

Mindful that this was to determine whether I was to be committed under the Mental Health Act, I found his manner disturbing to say the very least. He didn’t appear to fully understand me, nor did he give me sufficient time to explain myself to a level appropriate for this kind of evaluation, and in one instance, he even spoke over me in a rush to get to the next question. For instance, when he inquired if I’d been treated for depression, I replied I had, but wasn’t given an opportunity to explain that it wasn’t relevant to this assessment, as it was substance-induced, caused by sniffing a general anaesthetic intermittently when a teenager.

Likewise, when he asked if I had a sense of hopelessness about the future, I replied I did, but had no chance to clarify that it was based in reality, experienced by some of my friends also and related to the political and environmental state of the earth. It wasn’t a core symptom of suicidality in this case, as I could see he assumed it was.

Then came the big issue of my supposedly being suicidal. As I told Dr Abass, but not in this detail, the story began in May 2006, following my complaints to TVNZ and the Broadcasting Standards Authority (BSA) about a TV1 news item which placed the blame for 9/11 fallaciously on Osama bin Laden, [1]. Paradoxically, while the BSA chose to “decline to determine” my complaint, they became propagandists themselves by alleging that Osama bin Laden’s “involvement [in 9/11] is a widely accepted fact supported by the weight of credible evidence,” [2].

As many Uncensored readers now know, there is not a shred of hard evidence to show bin Laden had anything to do with 9/11, and even Dick Cheney had acknowledged this, [3]. Consequently, on May the 6th, two days after the BSA decision was released, I e-mailed their office and asked why the BSA panel had failed to take Cheney’s pivotal admission regarding bin Laden into account, that “evidence has never been forthcoming.” I further stated, “Their failure to do so is utterly disgraceful in my opinion, as it is indicative that they are failing in

their duty to do proper research prior to arriving at important decisions and therefore making a farce out of their obligation to serve the public.”

 

As well as poking a spanner in the works there, I had been distributing 9/11-truth DVDs to people in the New Zealand media and posting 9/11-related information on Internet newsgroups. While I knew I was courting danger, I continued to do so because I believed that doing nothing was ultimately more dangerous.

I received a number of veiled death threats via e-mail between late-May and early-June 2006, which included, “You are right about the assassination part,” and “I like to pull my guns out and shoot at moving targets,” while a number of benign messages received during the same period, were accompanied by a photo of a man holding a shot gun. I believed they were from the Security Intelligence Service, (SIS), who’d targeted me for a psychological operation – a psyops – because I was a political activist challenging the validity of the government’s portrayal of 9/11.

Although I didn’t have the opportunity to tell Dr Abass this, I speculated that as a whole these e-mails were designed to prime me with fear for a subsequent encounter with a man, who looked the part of a cold-war assassin, which took place on June the 1st. This pallid-skinned, clean-shaven man with dark blond hair, who was dressed in expensive-looking black clothing and was sporting an army-style hair cut, looked completely out of place in mid-town Whangarei. 

He made a point of coming uncomfortably close up behind me while I waited at a major intersection in town on June the 1st. There was no reason for him to have come as close as he did, unless he had wanted to intimidate me, so I stepped several meters to the left, to put a safe distance between us.

When the buzzer signalled that it was time to cross, I walked purposefully slowly and got directly behind him. When we reached the pavement on the other side of the road, he glanced backwards briefly, his cold grey-blue eyes scanning my face to see if I was watching him, and then he clenched and unclenched his right hand four times. I carried on walking and saw he’d stopped on a corner and was watching me, and then when I looked back again a few seconds later, he had gone.

I was absolutely terrified by this, particularly so as I was horribly conscious of the content of the threatening e-mails I had received in the days preceding this. (A Englishman who has been researching the New World Order,  stated he has heard of these kind of tactics being used “often” to harass people in “the anti-war and 9-11 Truth Movement.”  His letter to the hospital can be viewed at the end of this post). 

Consequently, with my heart thumping wildly, I strode to Police Superintendent Viv Rickard, who happened to be in the town Mall at the time, and told him I believed the SIS was threatening my life because of my work in exposing the truth about 9/11.  Rickard said he believed me, but said he thought that others on the police force might not, so advised me to deal with him directly about the matter.

Subsequent to the encounter with the man dressed in black, I had a discussion with a family member about hypothetical scenarios and my very real fears, to the point at which I said that if it were between a man with a gun and tablets, I would prefer the latter.  This was not about being suicidal, it was about preferring a non-violent death to a violent one. Fortunately however,  this became a complete non-issue the next day. I received an e-mail on June the 2nd, -I believed it was from the SIS, which intimated that the threats would cease as it appeared I had gotten the message.

Although I tried to get Dr Abass to listen to me about the context my statement was made in, my hopes sunk like a submarine when his body language indicated he’d stopped listening to me and his resolve to commit me was rapidly gathering momentum.

Brian, recognizing my situation was looking bleak, told Dr Abass that as I was so knowledgeable and active in this area of politics, it wasn’t at all surprising I had been threatened. He also advised that he’d seen the e-mails containing threats, and he perceived them as intimidating, and said in spite of these, I wasn’t suicidal – I was fine.

Nonetheless, to my horror, at my assessment’s completion, Dr Abass told me I would be held in the secure unit under the Mental Health Act for 5 days for further assessment. And as if this news wasn’t bad enough, he told me I hadn’t been threatened, I had misinterpreted the messages and that was because I was suffering from a delusional disorder. He said he was prescribing antipsychotic medication to combat this problem and as I was depressed, he told me I should go on a course of antidepressants also.

I sat stunned, the reality of my predicament closing over me like a grave. I was in a prison for the mentally ill, wrongly diagnosed as depressed, delusional and suicidal because of a case of what I believed to be medical incompetence. I choked down the bile from my anger, approached the door and said: “OK. Take me to my room!”

It came as no surprise, when I demanded to peruse my file with one of my nurses a few days later, to find it littered with misleading comments – and it was mentioned that Brian was deemed delusional too!  I had been perceived, interpreted, construed and categorized incorrectly. Dr Abass had given me a score of 14 on a suicide scale for which anything over 12 is regarded as “risky.” As my mother had committed suicide, my score was raised from what would have been 11 to 14, and as he’d made inferences based on incomplete information, the full score belied my condition warranted hospitalization.

Contents Of Magazine Article I'd Written Proved I Was Not "Delusional"

A young nurse escorted me down a foreboding corridor, to a small dowdy room with two single beds, two cupboards and a hand basin in it. I felt so disempowered; I lay face down on my bed for over four hours, agonizing that I was vulnerable to misdiagnosis by other staff members because of what I knew as a journalist. As Aldous Huxley had put it, “Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad.”

I found my first day in Ward 7 very troubling to say the least, for a number of reasons. Nurses came in to check on me and although I hadn’t had anything to eat for around 20 hours, ( as I didn’t have the chance to eat my breakfast before being picked up from home), I was offered Valium before I was offered food or a cup of tea. It didn’t seem to concern the staff either that I only had the clothes I was wearing with me. Consequently, I phoned Brian and got him to bring in some personal effects, fruit, chocolate bars and enough clothing to last for 5 days.

pic my-photo

As a polite way of telling the staff to “piss off and leave me alone,” shortly after arriving I stuck a notice above my bed: ‘WHILE MY HUMAN RIGHTS ARE BEING COMPROMISED LIKE THIS, PLEASE DO NOT EXPECT ME TO PARTAKE IN ANY SO-CALLED “TREATMENT”.’ Of course, it didn’t work. At night-time, I was forced to take Risperidone, a mind-altering medication administered to treat schizophrenia. I’d read about its dangerous side effects from a website I subscribe to called Mercola.com, so utterly resented being forced to swallow this poison by a zealous nurse who stood over me like a guard in a Soviet camp for political dissidents.

 

Although I consoled myself with the thought that it wouldn’t be long before a well-informed psychiatrist who could talk English fluently would realize that I’d been misdiagnosed, it wasn’t to be.

The following day I felt lethargic because of the medication. It looked as if most of the patients in the ward were up to their eyeballs on it, as they moped around, gazing woodenly, the majority seeming unable to engage in articulate coherent conversation.  As it seemed there was no one to have a conversation with, I had a look around for things to do – there was no garden, only a small grimy area outside for the smokers that was fenced off from the hospital grounds with prison bars. There was however Ping-Pong, reading Woman’s Day and New Idea, watching TV and talking to nursing staff, many of whom were empathetic and well-intentioned.

The consultant psychiatrist, Dr Carlos Zubaran, approached me cheerfully that day and said he wished to talk to me. As I presumed there’d be no difficulty in correcting my misdiagnoses and as Dr Zubaran had the position of authority, I retrieved my evidence and strutted hopefully into the meeting room, thinking, ‘At last, he’ll realize I’m not mad and I’ll be released!’ However, no sooner had I sat down than it became apparent that the self-assured Brazilian had accepted Dr Abass’s diagnoses without question and was eager to commence treating my purported cases of delusional disorder and depression. It was so awful for me at that moment, realizing I was imprisoned, and the head warden was going to play a part in this surreal ordeal.

In a beleaguered manner, as the Risperidone was making me drowsy, I tried to describe my frightening ordeal and show him my e-mails and my article, Why Does TVNZ Lie to Us About 9/11? but he wouldn’t even spare 10 seconds to lean over and look at them. He said he didn’t want to hear about them and told me I was “delusional” because I believed 9/11 was an inside job.

Charlie Sheen - Delusional Too?

I could tell it was a waste of time pointing out that I was far from alone in this belief and that a CNN poll conducted in March 2006 had shown that over 82% supported Charlie Sheen, when he went public with his opinion that the official story of 9/11 was highly questionable to say the very least.   If I had raised these types of matters, Dr Zubaran would have probably said it was further evidence of a delusional disorder.

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