Naturally enough, when I came down off the initial dosage of drugs which were administered to me, I was put on other far less mind altering medication and I stabilised very quickly, because I was now completely aware of what was happening.However, a further week passed by, then two weeks, then a month and I found myself slipping deeper and deeper into a more despondent and desperate frame of mind, and I now know why certain instruments are kept away from such individuals, as I was now becoming, for the first time in 39 years, a danger to myself, a slightly ironic development, don’t you fucking think ?, considering the reasons which enable hospitals to detain people in such places in the first place, a danger to oneself or others, and the very fucking reasons that such places exist, which is to prevent such situations arising, anyway.

Continued :

This despondency, this despair came from two different directions : Firstly I felt that, in essence, my whole life was being questioned, that everything up to this point in my life was in someway surreal, and that my sense of myself was nothing but a cruel dream.This erosion of my life, of my identity was also grinding in on my sense of will, as my ability to think for myself, to ask, to question, to decide were failing me and I felt that I was, ineffect, being reduced to nothing but a vegatable.Secondly and by far the most important, whilst spiraling through this emotional abyss, I was being imprisoned against my will for going on a month now and for what ? For existing, for doing what I have always done, which was to try to make the best of a bad situation regardless of what other people think, be they professionals, be they family members or be they whomever.That said, I will allow the readers to make the judgement, based on what I have already written so far and what is to follow, whether this experience was a positive one for myself personally or a complete utter catastrophic event which wrecked havoc with any possible chance that I had of any sort of life to come.