DISCLAIMER: This essay solely expresses the author’s views, experiences, and opinions, which may not represent the views, experiences, or opinions of EVOLVERE Mental Health.
This essay contains graphic descriptions of traumatic events and suicide attempts, mature subject matter, and mature language.
This essay discusses self-harm and suicide for the purpose of sharing the author’s experiences and opinions in an effort to help individuals who can relate to the author, not to sensationalize or encourage acts of self-harm or suicide attempts. If you or someone you know is considering, or have attempted, acts of self-harm or suicide, please reach out to a trained professional as quickly as possible by calling a suicide hotline or 911/your local emergency number.
Please consult a mental healthcare provider before creating or changing your treatment/therapeutic plan.
Reader discretion is advised.
Well, if you made it this far after reading my origins… then you have gained my respect. Now, my early twenties were a blur due to alcoholism and substance abuse. My saving grace at this time was meeting my wife. I am blessed to have her in my corner, and now my young adult children and my grandchild. Now, for the next several years, my work ethic (which was fueled by my desire to escape from mental illnesses in hindsight) turned into workaholism, and in 2011 I was hospitalized for a few days and instructed by medical doctors not to return to work for at least three months. I suppose that this is when the cracks first began to form in the box that I had buried my trauma in so long ago. In early 2014 (after several job losses, being on welfare, and moving my family across the country and back) I had a seven-day manic episode where I did not sleep and I abused alcohol and prescribed sleeping pills… and after consuming the entire bottle of sleeping pills and washing them down with a 40 oz bottle of whiskey… I was knocked out for an hour… when I awoke… I was cold sober… nevertheless, my actions should have killed me, yet again here I stand. It was then that I decided to seek help. Now, I must mention, the Ontario mental health community lacks in assisting someone at the beginning of their mental illnesses adventure, who is trying to find the correct help… there is no triage… you are left to your own devices to find the help that you need even though you do not understand your needs in the first place… I must declare that mental health practitioners are the first to state that you are welcome to leave at any point… how would someone like me know, in the mental state that I was in, (even in the first few years for that matter) if I would be a fit with the modalities offered? From my experience, this is where therapists could do better (they are business people first working to build their practice, and I hold nothing against them, with one exception – Marie and how she handled things after our therapeutic relationship ended). I thought that I had found a therapist that could help me. We will refer to her as Marie.
The Good
Marie and I did not have a good start, mostly because of my anger, rage, and distrust from past attempts of reaching out for help and getting burned. Every time I reached out for help… I eventually was punished. You see, after all the years that I tried existing as a human, I was hardened and lost all touch with my emotions. Somehow (until this day) Marie cracked that shell, and neither of us were prepared for the immense tidal wave of trauma, that had been suppressed for over thirty years, being unleashed over our two-year therapeutic relationship. The first year of seeing Marie… I was emotionally & mentally dysregulated with mistrust, skepticism, and anger management issues. The work she did with me was helpful, yet difficult, since I wanted the fucking bandage ripped off; however, she insisted slow and steady. At the time, I respected her decision as she was the “expert,” but in hindsight, it was the wrong approach for someone like me. What I now know about myself… is that I am a 0 to 100mph type of person with no in-between. Marie advertised some of her offerings as Somatic Experience, Dissociation, Parts Work and Trauma… this is noteworthy. After each session, I would violently vomit in the parking lot until exhaustion. I do not take compassion and kindness well, as it comes from my family of origin’s constant message: “You are the mistake, but we still love you” … my brain cannot distinguish between good and bad feedback, so I will suffer awful consequences of a distressing nature (honestly, I will be forthright with all of you… I will suffer… as most “normal” individuals will consider the pain and suffering that I go through as the atomization of myself – terrifying) … yet I kept seeing Marie.
It was within the first year of seeing Marie, that I began reading about mental illnesses and any book that I could get my hands on to understand what the hell was going on within me, including what was wrong with me. By 2015 I suffered yet another job loss, at which time she referred me to Dr. Bill… an MD specializing in psychotherapy… he is now my primary therapist. With the two of them tag-teaming me, what could go wrong? … well, we will get there shortly. It was in the second year of seeing Marie (2015) that my dysfunction as a human was escalating. I had multiple “safety” checks by police, was institutionalized on numerous occasions after these checks because of our “Mental Health Act” … a bullshit legislation that some party thought would be helpful… again, if you read Origins, then you will realize that I have been self-harming since I was 4 years old. Besides, a dehumanized thing like me cannot relate to the mental health and addictions (MHA) community’s construct of “safety.” I have two perspectives on this term: 1. I never grew up in a loving and protecting family… it was every man for themselves, 2. I view it as a subjective term… what I might consider “safe” due to my experiences, others may consider unsafe, reckless and a risk. Who the fuck are these MHA “experts” and their legalized criminals (those who label their brand “to serve and protect”) to tell me that I am a risk to myself or others? In my experience with these gang-colored criminals… I have found only two individuals in uniform who demonstrated respect and dignity towards me. If those in this legalized criminal fraternity do not like what my truths are… then here is my open challenge to you… prove me wrong.
By this time, I was diagnosed with primarily severe CPTSD (Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) and DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder). Now, the ongoing argument within the MHA community, which is debatable, is who and when I was diagnosed. This was when my mental healthcare team began receiving dissociated emails from me… some of violent or shamanic imagery, poetry, depersonalization, derealization, curiosity, and distrust. It was the fall of 2016 when I had a medical procedure that involved burning me to remove a growth… the smell of burnt flesh is something that you never forget… well, that night I was triggered… I left two dissociated voicemails with Marie, the first was the four-year-old boy crying and feeling as though the burning was presently happening… the second… I suspect it was HARAS… the message left, and I quote, “I am coming after you, your family, your pets, I am going to burn your fucking kingdom down so you know what it feels like to burn, what pain is like.” The straw that broke the camel’s back and lead to my eventual firing by Marie.
The Bad
To understand the truth of the matter, I must disclose to you that from 2015 (after a short two-week break from life in an institution) until early 2019… I was a complete and utter mess outside of my work life to the point where I was abusing alcohol and pharmaceuticals to numb myself, but more importantly, to function within all aspects of living. I reviewed the transcripts of my close to 5,000 calls to my local Canadian Mental Health Association (CMHA) chapter… most began with a statement, such as “My head is a blender” … let’s just say that my meds for mental illnesses could have been managed differently… nevertheless… again, here I stand.
The dissociated emails to my circle of care, including Marie even though I erased all of her contact information from all my devices, kept going out from my personal email address. It must be noted that from October 2016 until June 2017, I was dealing with arrears for Marie’s services. Coincidently, it was July 2017 when I was presented with a restraining order for which I had to appear in court. After this occurred, I went into a complete and utter personal life crisis on so many fronts… I relied on my CMHA local chapter. They witnessed my interactions with police firsthand, and the court supporter raised concerns with Dr. Bill about my dissociation at the courthouse. It was so bad that I had to call the support worker several hours later to ask what had happened. Ironically, while I was in court, something happened to Marie’s vehicle, for which she blamed me. My hypervigilance at this point was off the charts… I equipped my car with a six-inch hunting knife and a baseball bat to protect me from perceived threats. It was during this time that I heavily leaned on my CMHA local chapter… it was not long until I became a problem for their unionized crisis line staff. CHMA leadership deemed me abusive and a risk to myself and others, and then banned me without providing me with alternative support numbers or a proper client risk assessment. It was at this time, within a three-week hiatus from the CMHA, that I attempted to put a drill through my head on several occasions… not because I was suicidal… but because I needed to find relief from all the pain that I was in from the court proceeding and the hypervigilance… I was back to only sleeping less than four hours a night… the rest of my sleeping hours were spent preparing for the threats… I held onto a baseball bat and slept (without my wife knowing that it was under my pillow with one hand always on it) … with another six-inch hunting knife… and, of course, a baseball within reach too. Now, I have raised the criminal negligence of my CMHA local chapter with the CEO of CMHA Ontario and CMHA National… they both stated, due to how this brand is structured (each a legal entity unto itself), that they had no jurisdiction over my local chapter. By this time, only after three weeks back using their crisis line, I was banned for life (without a client risk assessment, which the Director of Crisis Services admitted in an email). Anyways, my local health department launched an investigation that concluded that there was no fault in the actions by the CMHA. I was exiled into isolation at that point… to this day I cannot use their services, yet, my local health department continues to subsidize CMHA with my tax dollars – under the criminal code, this is fraud… I raised this with provincial and local administrators, including politicians, for two years now… fraud is committed yet no one is being held accountable nor are they responsible… it is as though my CMHA local chapter, their leadership, and my local health department are above the law. Oh wait… it is the devil that the Canadian Federal government has partnered with… therefore, at any level of government agencies, it is the devil that they know and lay in bed with. My thoughts on the CMHA brand… they are abusers and criminals that use avoidance to address their actions… their leadership lacks integrity and demonstrates arrogance and ignorance when serious concerns are raised. Here is a thought… do you think that they would have taken responsibility if I had been seriously injured or died from the drill incident? Hell no… they would have placed the blame on me… my fault… bestowed upon me the ownership of their own shit.
The Ugly
Now, a bit about the back story… Marie, from 2016 until present day, has managed to gaslight my MHA community leaders, and courts and police services, by painting a picture (through her own fears from when I disclosed my violent past to her during sessions… vulnerabilities that she used to hang me in court) of a monster… vilified and demonized through her narrative. I encountered discrimination at all levels, since once you are bestowed the acronyms of CPTSD and DID… truthfully, most, including me, do not stand a chance.
January 2018… fuck… what a shit storm… at the time, Marie’s actions had me so freaked out with mistrust of all systems, agencies, and individuals, including Dr. Bill and my support network. Did I mention that Dr. Bill and Marie’s offices were across the hall from one another? … Anyways, I was on the property (I call it this as it is religious grounds with multi-purposes) waiting for my group therapy session with Dr. Bill to begin. I happened to see Marie’s colleague in the parking lot, when she gave me a smug yet devious look, including a smile, as she knew what had happened… a look that stated that I was to blame… it was my fault. Of course, I was triggered. I began drinking the beer that I bought for when I got home later to numb myself, which escalated me to become triggered again… you guessed it… rinse and repeat… by the time group began, I was fully dissociated and using CMHA Crisis support… I apparently stated that I was going to bring my bat into the group session to protect myself… long story short, I was detained by an army of police officers with guns and tasers drawn. Apparently, somehow, there was some miscommunication about the knife in my car, and the police heard that I was wielding a knife. I have a brief memory of being on my stomach on the ground, with my hands behind my back not handcuffed yet, when I felt the officer’s boots in my ribs… the police deny this happening and stated that I resisted arrest (this is not the first time I have conscious memories of police and ER staff abusing me… I have CPTSD and DID… my word means shit in those circles). I was hauled off to jail I suppose, or the ER, for a short hospital stay. By this point, Marie had been informed and gaslit the authorities by saying that I was on the property to hurt her… fucking far from the truth. That was the last night that I was ever allowed onto the property, as Marie (she will deny this... she states that it was the police) convinced the good “Christian” property owners to have a criminal trespass ordinance deployed with my name on it. You guessed it… I lost access to Dr. Bill (temporarily), but the most damaging… was losing my tribe (my group). It should be mentioned, that before this event, I requested my full unredacted health records in electronic format from Marie in Dec 2017. I received her commitment via a letter on her letterhead and she consciously signed it. A few days later, she retained a lawyer who has antagonized me with false accusations of threats. This is noteworthy. As demonstrated… it was too late as the damage was done.
This is the point where Marie gaslit everyone by stating that she feared for her life, disclosing to colleagues that she was afraid that I would bomb her car, and even on one occasion claiming that I smeared blood across her windshield while I was in court! Marie vilified and demonized me with local police… while fully knowing that the police were a trigger for me, yet, she never disclosed this to them once when she called about me ... can you say criminal negligence?
Anyhow, by now I did not trust this woman at all or her integrity. Now, the governing body for registered psychotherapists, the College of Registered Psychotherapists of Ontario (CRPO), states that their members have thirty calendar days to respond to inquiries. However, I was told that my inquiry would be delayed due to the holiday season, to which I replied that this was unacceptable and that the College rules should be adhered to. In January 2018, they issued rules which stated that if my records were released, they would cause me to self-harm or harm others… this is noteworthy as it comes into play soon enough. My only recourse at this point was to launch complaints with the CRPO, Canadian Counseling and Psychotherapy Association (CCPA), and the Information Privacy Commission (IPC), which are the next steps in this process. I will get back to this debacle later on.
Oh, I continued to get abused by Marie. She launched a police investigation against me… I was so distressed, that my substance abuse escalated and my wellbeing deteriorated. I was prescribed meds to help with the side effects of my experience, and was then issued more meds to combat the side effects of the meds that helped with the initial side effects… my blood pressure was out of sorts… I was hospitalized on several occasions for high blood pressure and dangerously low blood pressure, which felt like cardiac arrest. Shit… this went on for quite some time, until the spring of 2019 when I voluntarily stopped all of my meds. Damage has been done to my body, as there are some meds that I still take to manage my damaged systems.
It was February 2018 when I was officially arrested and charged with Uttering Threats and Criminal Harassment. I will spare you the details here… just know the Uttering Threats charge was dropped - thanks to the Premier of Ontario and the Toronto Sun for the headline that managed to get this charge dropped. Under Section 15. (1) of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms: Every individual is equal before and under the law and has the right to the equal protection and equal benefit of the law without discrimination and, in particular, without discrimination based on race, national or ethnic origin, color, religion, sex, age or mental or physical disability… yet… this was not adhered to, as I do not recall any of my court dates, nor my arrest and questioning… my supporters wrote letters, patient reports, and psychiatric assessments advocating for mental health diversion… which was denied by the only person in the legal system who is able to make such a decision… the crown attorney in my case. So, apparently, I pleaded guilty, yet I still do not recall any of this (it is well documented). I have a three-year conditional discharge, that can be reopened at any time if Marie feels unsafe, probation for 18 months, and a 10-year weapons ban (note about the word “weapon” in the order that I have… the fine print states that a weapon will be determined by police… for example anything not physically attached to my body can be considered a weapon… even a simple item like a gum wrapper). Ah yes… these are meaningless consequences of insignificance… my true-life sentence without parole is my brain injuries.
The complaint processes… what fucking gong shows… are systems intentionally designed to fail the public and protect all professionals… this is the theme throughout this entire battle over the last four years and counting. So, from my complaints that I have to date, I have been denied by CMHA, CCPA, IPC (which their decisions do not carry a sentence) and the CRPO. Now, with the CRPO, I appealed their first decision through the Health Professionals Appeal and Review Board (HPARB), which ruled in my favor. It was through this appeal process, that Marie’s responses to my claims were revealed. The committee within the CRPO that reviews complaints… through responses and interactions with the CRPO… implied that the committee members that oversee complaints are all practicing therapists with no lived experiences to discuss the other side of the complaint. My ruling required the CRPO to take action. So, they asked for my consent in order to take action… this completely contradicted an email that I received from the manager of complaints at the beginning of the process… besides that, I discovered how Marie and the CRPO broke their own publicly published rules, mission statements, and values… most importantly their mandate “to protect the public and public interest, not the profession”. Needless to say, I was never given an opportunity to decide whether to give my consent, as the CRPO moved ahead with their denial decision, claiming that I did not give my consent even though I was open to civil discussions (well documented) if they addressed my concerns. Hence, I am going into round two with the HPARB, and all of my expenses are paid courtesy of the Ontario taxpayer. I offer no apologies as I too… even though society, my community, and such will view me as a criminal (living with the shame of my DNA in the RCMP HQ criminal database for eternity) … use shame, oppression, gaslighting, and discrimination against me. For the record, I have determined that the CRPO’s main revenue stream is from its membership fees… a conflict of interest if you ask me… in addition, this makes all of their decisions based on business… to protect the profession and bottom line.
There are no safeguards in Ontario’s MHA system… one big fat lie from the Minister of Health (visit my Twitter @victorjanzen as her letter addressed to me was published for the world to see), the Associate Minister of MHA, the Minister of Health and Long-Term Care, and the official opposition Party and Leader. Even the complaints process through the Ministry of the Attorney General (MAG). When I requested the crown attorney’s credentials for mental health diversion consideration, and the decision matrix documents used to determine and support the criminal trial determination, I was told by the Criminal Law Division of the Ministry of the Attorney General, that “they are not accountable to the public as they are accountable to the courts” … even though the courts are accountable to the public. Then there is the Ontario Ombudsmen… as a taxpayer, why the hell do I pay for this! In my experience… they are glorified note-takers and they document complaints, as they can only suggest that government agencies implement their recommendations; however, they cannot enforce their recommendations for agencies. What bullshit…
In summary, I view the following MHA individuals/organizations: Marie, CRPO, CMHA (all levels), CCPA and HPARB, including the MAG and IPC, as being guilty of shaming and oppressing me and using discrimination tactics against. From my experience during the last four years, it begins with provincial leaders/politicians’ arrogance and ignorance, which is not an excuse for their bullying and harassing actions of doing absolutely nothing. Once again, the abusers and criminals get away. As for my criminal sentence as stated by the MAG… their duty was to keep themselves safe and protect the public… so my feedback to all of you (Canadians)… I entrust that you and your family feel safe and are protected knowing that justice was served… I have been a prisoner in my own home for the last four years. I am anxious and distressed every time I leave my home. For the last 27 weeks, I have had nightly episodes of the atomization of the self in all four pillars (emotional, mental, physical and spiritual) … pain and suffering that you will not find in any textbook… I have no choice or control over these episodes… once it grabs onto me… grinds me up… deconstructs me… it eventually pulverizes me… it might decide to let me go, and then again it might not… these episodes last a minimum of over two hours, and the worst is when it goes on for twenty-four hours. So, remember this folks… how does it feel to be safe and protected at night when you go to bed? My only comment… appreciate what you have… I mean this not in terms of material possessions… it is much deeper than that.
I will leave you with this analogy: If you had a friend who had a disabled child… and you witnessed your friend administer abuse (emotional, mental or physical) to their child… what would you do?
A. Protect the child and say something to your friend.
B. Protect the child and report your friend to the proper authorities.
C. Deny the truth, say nothing and protect the friendship.
From my perspective, and I do not mean to be disrespectful to my supporters, all involved (perhaps including you) have or will consciously choose C as the answer. What does that say about your social fabric? I cannot help but wonder just how inhumane humanity can be… perhaps its societal preference, as my brain injuries are invisible, transcends race, heritage, creed, skin color, and so on….
My response to all of you…. #nolongerinvisble #NLI #dehumanized #truth…. I will continue to exercise my rights… I do have a voice... I am a warrior… I am a survivor!