It took days to recover from the trauma. I couldn’t stop crying

I am having to tell my entire life story of being raped as a child, being put into a house of hell, Chadswell Assessment Centre, which was pretty much the same as Fred Wests house except in Rocester Staffordshire, over and over and over again, being spied on wherever I go, if I go for a walk round  there’s people watching me, my lawyer was murdered, the gangsters are laughing their heads off  it’s horrible and I keep having to try to explain over and over why I keep having fits it should be bloody obvious!

Kind, and confused at why their manager keeps sending me to assessments

Horrific. The stress of having to talk about the past is horrific, being actually forced to go to a place to talk about those things is horrific. It took days to recover from the trauma. I couldn’t stop crying. It’s like pulling scabs off huge massive wounds.It didn’t even get that far. Both my assessors walked out, they both sent me home, both said I shouldn’t even have been brought in

I don’t go out by myself any more, I can’t because every time I have a fit I get sectioned. So in effect I am a prisoner. I know I’ve been stalked, my GP is involved in that, I’m in the process of complaining about him, and I probably am paranoid,people tell me I am but it’s with good reason as I have actual proof that I’ve been stalked and persecuted. So I am finding it hard now to trust anyone at all. It’s very hard to live like that. Music and art is the only way I can switch off. It’s wrecked my life.

 

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