Gang Stalking World

United we stand. Divided they fall.

Remotely Insane.

I was on my usual weekend hunt for more information about how these situations are being created and I came across something really interesting. The case referenced below is about a police office who blew the whistle, only to have his workplace hire 1 psychologist and a psychiatrist, to basically without speaking to him, fully remotely declare that he was unstable, even suicidal, could be a danger to others. Also they were advised that if they could get him arrested and placed in a psychiatric facility to just do it.

Now can you imagine an assessment like that followed by a little high tech harassment?

I find the scenario so interesting for so many reasons. The site says that this is the sort of thing that was done in China, Russia to dissidents and those considered to be enemies of the State. Ever notice that more and more research from various sources are starting to link to the fact that we are doing this like communist regimes have in the past? Does this concern anyone?

A Canadian Police Department and the Canadian College of Psychologists

Kenneth Westhues, Professor of Sociology at the University of Waterloo, studied a case of a police officer targeted for elimination after reporting corruption to provincial authorities. The Police Department had enlisted the services of both a psychologist and a psychiatrist in support of its aim to get rid of the whistleblower. The latter, however, withstood the campaign against him and successfully held onto his job. Subsequently, he sought sanctions against the psychologist and the psychiatrist, and asked Westhues to set down in writing his reflections on the actions against him. Here is Westhues’s account, with names and other identifying information removed.
You have asked that I give you my reflections on the actions of the Police Department against you from the mid-1990s until 2000. I write on the basis of the documentation you have provided to me in connection with my research on workplace mobbing, an uncommon but severe organizational pathology that can have unwarranted, devastating effects on the mobbing target’s career and life. I understand that the reason you have requested this letter is so that you might include it with your request to the Ontario Health Professions Appeal and Review Board, that it review the decision of the Complaints Committee of the Ontario College of Physicians and Surgeons, and the separate decision of the Complaints Committee of the Ontario College of Psychologists.
In the mid-1990s, you reported in good faith to the appropriate provincial authorities what you saw as corruption in the Police Department. The appropriate body investigated, and found your allegations to have merit. In the wake of this conflict, your Police Department engaged psychologist Dr. X and psychiatrist Dr. Y to give their opinions on your mental health. Without speaking with you, both Dr. X and Dr. Y signed their names to reports that strongly suggested you were mentally ill. Dr. X wrote in December 1998, that your “thinking appears delusional to the extreme,” and he wrote in his own hand, “I essentially agree,” on a police investigator’s memo summarizing his meeting with them. The memo included these assertions:
    • The issue is that the man’s thinking is disordered.
   • You need to find a way to get him to a psychiatric assessment by compulsion, because he’s probably not going to accept that he has a problem.
    • If you have enough information to arrest him and take him to a psychiatric facility – do it.
   • It is easier to contain an explosion than an implosion – you shouldn’t blame yourself if he commits suicide.
Dr. Y wrote in January, 1999, that it was “in the realm of possibility” that you had a “Paranoid Personality Disorder,” and that “a psychiatric assessment would be required to rule this out.”
Shortly after Dr. X’s and Dr. Y’s reports, neither of which was provided to you, you were suspended from your position and charged under the Police Services Act. This was in January of 1999. It took almost two years, until November of 2000, for you to clear your name and get free of the stress and stigma of administrative sanction. In the end, you were found guilty of no offense. You have continued as before, to fulfill capably and with honour your responsibilities as a police officer.
In your complaints to their respective colleges, you fault Dr. X and Dr. Y for failing to live up to the ethical codes of their professions. The Complaints Committee of the College of Psychologists dismissed almost all of your complaint; the Complaints Committee of the College of Physicians and Surgeons dismissed your complaint entirely.
The decision of the Complaints Committee of the College of Physicians and Surgeons contains obviously false statements about the most basic facts of the case:
    • The Committee says you were “later dismissed from the police force.” You were not and have never been dismissed. You were and remain an officer with an unblemished record.
   • The Committee accepted the word of Dr. Y that your Police Department required you to undergo an assessment by Dr. X, the psychologist. Further, according to the Committee, Dr. Y reported that Dr. X had concluded from his assessment that you posed a possible risk of harm to others, that you are the type of personality that could “go postal,” that your thinking was disordered, that you were at high risk for suicide, and that you should be examined by a psychiatrist.
In fact, your Police Department never required, and you did not at any time undergo, such an assessment. The decision of the Complaints Committee of the College of Psychology admits that  Dr. X made his comments about you without having assessed you.
An organization’s employment of mental-health practitioners to stigmatize, discredit, and harm a targeted worker is a common mobbing technique. The harm is exacerbated when the professional bodies to which the worker may appeal, fail to investigate thoroughly and to hold the practitioners responsible for their part in the mobbing process.
I would not presume to say what corrective action the Health Professions Appeal and Review Board should take. Public safety requires, however, that regulatory bodies not be allowed to gloss over any complicity of mental-health professionals in efforts by employers to discredit sane, responsible employees who have blown the whistle on administrative misconduct.
I hope that you and the Health Professions Appeal and Review Board may find these reflections on the actions against you helpful toward a fair and truthful resolution of your complaints. Best wishes.
Postscript. The body to which the police officer appealed, and to which he submitted Westhues’s letter, dismissed the appeal. One member of the hearing committee told the police officer at the hearing that when you stick your finger in a hornets’ nest, you can expect to get stung. [/quote]
Can you believe that workplaces are doing this crap?

Think of what this could mean. You make a complaint, the company hires 2 people to evaluate you, they write up an assessment like the one above, you have no idea, then suddenly because you are so unstable and mentally ill and won’t go in for an assessment of your own free will  suddenly you have this problem, and for your own good they put you on some watch list.

If you do ever get into this situation and think that going in for an evaluation is a good thing, think again. There was an article or website that tells you the exact methods that will be used to railroad you.

See I know what we are up against is horrific, but if we can find anything in this madness to use, then it’s in our best interest to use it and find out if that is indeed what is happening. I think this is worth further examination. 

Could something like the above scenario also happen in communities where they want to get rid of someone. I am sure this could happen to activist, dissidents, anyone who goes up against a school board, etc. How easy is this to be used against someone in the exact method as described above. How would the target even know it? They really would not. How could they find out?

I think this is really exciting to find this information, because it could further explain just how the state is getting some people listed for being mentally ill/unstable remotely. There should be some kind of a paper trail, because someone is pulling the strings.

March 9, 2008 - Posted by | blue-wall, Censorship, community mobbing, Controlled society, Corruption, Covert investigations, crazy, dissident, driving-crazy, Fascism, Gang Stalking, Gangstalking, harassment, Illegal, Insane, Laws, mobbing, oppression, paranoid, Police Abuse, Police Corruption, silence, whistle blower, workplace mobbing


  1. I’ve decided to reach out to these stalkers, since they, at least, know I’m not mad. And since they are so obviously lost in self-imposed darkness.

    I’ve begun with a live journal post to them, and I’m pasting it here, because when I returned to add to it a few minutes ago, it listed as a draft and not a post, even though I did post it. Whoops. Hm… So I guess I was right, not only will no one believe me, it will take great effort to even tell anyone outside my immediate, face to face contacts!

    It’s okay, though. I know the truth, and I’m going to keep writing and telling it as best I can.

    They only make us stronger, without even knowing they’re doing it.

    The prison

    The astonishing thing for me is how apathetic oppression has made me. I’d always been the angry fighter, determined to stand up for rights and for what is right. And eventually, you took notice. My blind, paranoid brothers and sisters in your lofty and secretive positions, you decided I might really become the threat I’d always wanted to be to you who commit human rights abuses, to you who kill, torture, and enslave.

    You took action and you continue to do so.

    It seems so innocuous. I get followed, my phone lights up when no one is calling. My computer habits are monitored. My writing is shuffled through. I come home, and not everything is as it was. People I don’t know, prospective employers, give me looks that tell me you have whispered a word or two about me, and the words aren’t kind.

    It sounds like paranoid rantings. I know it isn’t. If I were researching these wrongs from the perspective of someone who does not experience them, I would at least look into it. I’d gather evidence. I’d listen to and look at whatever proof existed. For example, the FBI gleefully admitted to following and harassing a member of the mafia until at one point they thought they’d drive him into an insane asylum. Past bad acts are evidence of the willingness to commit present and future bad acts.

    I should be roaring mad, researching at every opportunity, speaking out, and ready to fight. But throughout this increasingly intense harassment, I’ve become ever more depressed, immobile, and passive. Apathetic. That is the worst part. My inability to even care about myself. As if I don’t deserve the same effort anyone else in my situation would.

    I know I’m not the only one experiencing that feeling. I know it’s part of being human. We are chained by the illusion of self doubt. We don’t value ourselves, deep down. We don’t hesitate to say outrageous-sounding things when we know they’re truly happening to others, but we don’t fight for ourselves.

    I tell myself, “It sounds too crazy, too paranoid, the evidence is too flimsy. If I say something, if I fight, they’ll only make things worse. I’ll wait until I have proof.” But then I don’t try to get proof. Because I don’t have any energy left. That’s what you do to people when you subject them to overt surveillance. When you screw with someone’s life in big and little ways until your victims just want to sit in a room and watch movies like Howard Hughes did. The FBI took notice of him, and he told people what was happening to him, but no one believed him.

    But here is the secret. Here is how I reclaim myself. I’m a writer. You can’t stop me from writing. Even if you take my life, you won’t stop the words. You’ll give my words weight.

    You only have power when I refuse to see what I am and to do what I’m on this earth to do. If I’d been writing when this harassment cranked up in 2005, it would have bounced off me, and to this day I probably wouldn’t know you had ever tried to derail me.

    But I failed to publish, and returned to college, and then I went to law school. And in my second semester, the darkest depression of my life began.

    Someone far away offered me a way out. Offered love and a new beginning. That someone lived in a part of the world I’d always wanted to visit, though I have never known why. I’ve told many people about my odd attraction to this place. Later, I found an astonishing number of old maps of this place. They were in my car and house, collected and forgotten over more than a decade. Anyone who wanted to know anything about me would have found out about that place. And you did.

    And so that purported rescuer had a specific address. I still don’t know what you promised him, what you paid him to do it. Someday, I’ll find out.

    And I went to him. But the funny thing is, I knew all along what he was and why he wanted me to come. I lied to myself and told myself I was being ridiculous, but I knew. I went because I wasn’t doing my life’s work, and I was miserable, and I’d learned everything I ever wanted to know about how law really works. I was never a victim of yours until I was a victim of my own self-doubt.

    But now I’m glad you did it. Because law is about power. It’s about force. Law is violence. You can’t stop violence with violence. And you, whoever you are, you government or CIA or corporate lawbreakers, you are the lost ones, more lost than I was when I returned from that place with a broken heart and the dawning realization of what had been done to me.

    But that alone did not wake me to the truth. I ignored the part of me that said I’d been targeted, effectively, in fact, neutralized. Or so you must have thought.

    I ignored little feelings that perhaps once or twice I was being followed or watched. How silly it sounded, even to me! I wondered if maybe I really was a little nutty, as so many who disagreed with my political views claimed.

    Then I went back to my old job, I’m not sure if that offer of employment half a year after I’d put in the application was coincidence or an attempt to lure me into committing a crime. Plenty of criminal activity was taking place there, and I certainly aggravated you by pointing out how much there was and how nothing was being done about it. Not the reaction you expected or wanted, if you intended to entrap me!

    In any case, I got you on tape, trying to get into my car one day. And as I learned to spot you, I realized how often I was being followed. For awhile after I scrambled out of that nightmare job, I couldn’t turn around without tripping over a plainclothes. But I couldn’t get proof anyone would listen to. As one cop put it, “What you know and what you can prove are two different things.”

    That has never been true in the past for very long. I’ve always been able to prove what I set out to prove. The problem is, it’s different, because now it’s happening to me. There’s oddly enough, more, not less reluctance to speak out against it.

    But here’s the good part: You tried to stop me from being a threat, and because of your actions, I’m more a threat now than I ever would have been as a lawyer in a rigged up system where any judge can deny someone’s rights under the law, then claim on the basis of an obscure and unrelated 1800’s case that the law does not protect the claimant at all.

    Because, you see, you are reading this. In fact, you might be the only ones who are. But you are the perfect reader, because even if no one else will ever believe me, you do. You know it’s true.

    You read everything I write. So I’m inside now. I’m a subversive whose words you will have in your head for the rest of your life. You can laugh and deny it, but you react to me just as I react to you. Connections work both ways.

    Writing is about bridging connections. It’s about communicating, and the choice others have to read or not read.

    You who read this are reading it because your own fear forces you to. And now I am speaking truth to power. I’m shedding light in the very darkness I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to defeat.

    And I’m going to defeat that darkness, in the only way darkness can ever be defeated. With the truth, and without force. I can’t force someone to change the way they see the world. I can’t force you to open your eyes. All I can do is tell you what I see when my eyes are open, and you can read and understand, or read and scoff, as you please. But someday, you’ll see what I see because the misery of living in fear and darkness will force you to open your eyes. And then you’ll know I tell the truth when I say there’s nothing to fear or fight when your eyes are open.

    Only love dispels hate. Only light dispels darkness. Only truth dispels illusion. You will do what you were made to do and be what you were made to be whether you know it or not. Freedom is just opening your eyes and ears to the truth of what you are. That’s when joy strikes. Hope and faith don’t dispel fear, knowing is what frees us. I know you’re reading this. I know you’re my brothers and sisters, and I know you aren’t evil. You just have your eyes shut tighter than I happen to at this moment, so it’s my work to tell you what I see, in hopes you’ll open your own eyes to see the beauty of it, and in the certainty that you someday will, and that I play a part in that, because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be writing this, and you wouldn’t be reading it.

    Now you know the real reason you did what you did and why you do what you do to me. I wondered, at first. I ranted and laughed at you for being the very thing driving me to acknowledge what you’d done to me, how you’d tricked me into what I thought at the time was the very end of my life and all hope for a meaningful future. You thought you did it to stop me and to protect your dark acts from the light. But it was to help me see with open eyes how useless violence is against violence. It was and is so that I can bring the description of that light to you. I hope I’m a good enough writer, or that I’ll become a good enough writer, to describe it all so well you won’t be able to help but take first a peek, then a glance, then a wondering stare.

    Creation is the only place where we progress as though such a thing as time existed. Outside creation, and existing all around it, and shooting through it in astounding blazes, is eternal love. It’s warm white light. It’s limitless. It’s without scarcity, it has no beginning or end. It’s in and around and through us all, we who are also one thing, one creation. And the only thing we can do to diminish it is pretend not to see it, although why we have chosen to and why it’s so easy to continue the pretense, why we trick ourselves into blindness, despite the illusory nightmare-terror of our self-imposed darkness, I do not know. I write for you, for me, for us, and I know it’s all one and the same. That’s the beginning, here in this creation, where such a thing as a beginning can be imagined.

    I write this in the knowledge that it will probably sound like the ravings of madness to all except you and your other victims, and that perhaps this will reach only you. Yet it’s enough. You are exactly the ones I most want to reach. I am content and I thank you. And I forgive you for your ignorance, though it has hurt and continues to hurt me when I choose not to see, and I forgive myself for the ignorance that kept me from myself and from my life’s work for so long. It’s the same thing, to say I forgive you, as to say I forgive myself. The separation is illusory.

    I’m smiling because you gave me something else, too. I used to stomp through life, quite loud and insensitive, I couldn’t read expressions, or people’s eyes, I couldn’t get a sense of how others felt. I’d never tried, never thought I had reason to search my memory for clues about intentions and emotions. Because of you, I’ve changed. I know I can impact you because I have and do. I can feel you. Even when you hate me, you love me. Even when you think you want to cause hurt, you don’t want it. Because the part of me that’s more than a collection of thoughts and feelings, words and actions, that eternal part, is the same eternal part that’s in you. And you recognize it. And you question your illusions of limitation, the work you do that isn’t the work you are made to do. And if I die because I write these words, you acknowledge the truth in them, and the power of that truth.

    You know you don’t want to keep living in darkness. You know you don’t want to keep denying the part of yourself that cries out against violence and terror. You know you don’t want to be afraid of everything and everyone. You know you want to stop pretending this is all there is. You want to stop pretending any of us is alone and separate. I know you do, because I did and do want that, too. I’m sick of pretending I’m alone. I’m weary of the chains of fear and hate, and of the struggle to give meaning to the finite without seeing the eternal everywhere, always.

    I’m a writer. That’s what I am, and that’s my life’s work. Not law, not computers or cooking or nursing or anything else. If anything can and does define my place and purpose in time-bound creation, it’s only this: I write. And I write because it’s how I give expression to the eternal. It’s how I grow and learn and keep myself free of self-imposed limitations. It’s how I keep my eyes open.

    And you read. In my blindness, I used to think this act alone made you my enemies. How could anyone dare invade my privacy by reading my journals, my unfinished novels and stories? I hated you, because I refused to see that writing is for reading. It’s all one, anyway. It’s possible to know that and still feel anger. But hatred? No.

    I don’t hate anymore. Hate is always blind. Whoever said love is, must have been talking about some finite emotion. Love is never blind. Maybe we just trick ourselves into wondering what we ever saw in someone. What always inspires us to love is that which is eternal and made of love. It gathers us together and gathers itself.

    Comment by writeconscience | March 10, 2008 | Reply

  2. The Silent Enemy : Post Traumatic Stress Disorder…

    I found your entry interesting thus I’ve added a Trackback to it on my weblog :)…

    Trackback by Anonymous | June 9, 2010 | Reply

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