Drugs can’t break your heart..


I want to share this, but this is not meant to be narcissistic in any way. I wrote this to James Edgar Skye referring to his blog entry Are Antipsychotic Drugs Safe? and I think, my own two readers might be interested, maybe maybe. So this is what I wrote about Are Antipsychotic Drugs Safe? :

Hey James. I’m really interested in reading. But in fact you make me wanna tell you my own experiences about antipsychotic drugs. I hope you don’t judge me for this but I really would like to share.
I had been taking those drugs for about 10 years and they made me believe I need them. During those ten years (so since I was 16 I started to take anti-depressiva) I quit taking them one year and all symptoms like anxiety, nervousness and chaos quickly started to grow up again and I used to think I wouldn’t be strong enough to stand these feelings myself.

Never ever those pills kept me from trying to hurt or even kill myself while I took them constantly again. This is the ironic stuff about.
After ten years of taking anti-depressiva I noticed my own life and feelings changing the way they turned out to be worse than ever. I told my doctor and she gave me medicine you can take in a complicated or bad situation (diacepam). I really started enjoying taking these pills cause they totally knocked me out instantly so all my body and soul could relax immediately. I took them for about four months (besides I consumed my regular alcohol on the weekend etc.) and a short time later I developed a very bad and terrible psychosis with all of hallucinations etc.

In several hospitals I was given haloperidol, olanzapine or lorazepam without my permission cause I was not able to speak for myself any more. Those drugs made me like their total mental slave and led to an enormous feeling of hunger so that I started eating the very most I ever did in my life. So I became fat. Afterwards, I quit taking everything. I grew the worst depression in human history then and was given aripiprazole. After 3 weeks I tried to kill myself for the first time. This was the normal „side-effect“ to even read about in the package insert and so I quit taking them again. We tried another, same thing happened after 4 weeks. I quit again becoming almost clean and same thing happened after 4 more weeks again. After my last suicide attempt, which was very dramatic in May 2017, I made a decision to become clear and clean, totally. I haven’t been taking any kind of drug (except from alcohol from time to time) and since then my body has developed powers again I never thought I would even have those.

Thing I learnd about pharma industry is they want to make cash and experiments on the patients‘ risk and what truely is a fact is that all sorts of drugs can have those annoying side-effects or support those things they should actually help against. And they make you „addicted“, not even mentally only, but also in a physical way, which is the most absurd thing about medicine.
After ten years of drugs my thyroid already had grown a very aggressive rebellion and was full of lumps so it had to be taken away, almost completely. At the age of 26 and doctors told me, this is an unusually young age.

I am „free“, totally free now and I can strengthen my own health by choosing on what to eat and what to drink and this helps me for sports I can do (before I was the laziest person on earth), but all of this needed time of course, a long time of finding out that I need to go through the most destructing hell first before I could become stronger again. You need to survive the crisis before brighter days can start again. I’m sure about. I hope you don’t blame me for such a long comment.

See or „read“ you, coffeeld


If there are Krankenkassen in this place, there must be Gesundheitskassen as well.

Insurances should pay much more for keeping up health than for expensive therapies and rehabilitation actually in case you’re already sick. It’s better not to grow illnesses than to get sick early because of a sick way of living.

A good way of life is more expensive. And medical institutions will have most profit by sick patients. So feed yourself with junk food and coke and you will be a nice job for Dr. Scrooge McDuck.

Anyway. This is what I would expect my health insurance to pay for: A comfortable sports equipment so I can go on running outside through the park without damaging my knees and body thanks to a professional tracksuit. And pay the taxes so I can visit special sport clubs. I’m curious, you know? I would like to find out some more things. And send some more cash please so I can buy my own healthy food to cook.

And gimme some good ad about how to prevent all diseases. Why don’t you pay my holiday so I can learn to calm down continously? I will grow you my biggest strength to work as a good and successfull employee. I’m serious.

There needs to be a big change for growing a big and strong society. And don’t tell me there is not enough money to care about anyone. This is a big bullshit. It’s just lying in the wrong place.


there are really worse things in life than being a little fatty, aren’t there? I mean, to be in a schizophrenia mode for always, for example, alright? Imagine. This would be total hell. But if I trust all my doctors and take pills as they say and avoid hard alcohol or alcohol at all and drugs of course, nothing bad can happen to me, again, is that right? Tell me.

shortcut schizophrenia part two

Things I did in Berlin: A girl who seemed to be Lesbian was with me inside of a room after my hard phase of three days. I threw my green shirt to her and said: If you feel like a monkey, try to jump out of the window and take that jungle shirt, they will not come for. She never said a word. She didn’t even look at me for real. She didn’t take that t-shirt.

I was JESA, not Jesus in my bedroom and the lesbian was my husband who wanted to fight me in a last fucking game for you could see who will be stronger. I was scared so I visited the bathroom and said: Please, give me some support what to do now, and there were, suddenly, real sounds of a used toilet anywhere, so, I knew, I was not going to be strangled or killed by my lesbian husband, but it was my challenge to die for the world as JESA, not getting crucified, they would give me toxic stuff and a place in the hotel on the opposite street I could see out of my window so it would be a nice and .. happy death. But this didn’t happen. I went outside and outside again and the scenes like in a movie changed so quickly, everything. I thought I was a mindtraveller and timetraveller travelling all fucking centuries of this world. Then I was Juliet years before in the movie William Shakespeare created. I looked out for my Romeo because I couldn’t stand to go on like this. No ending. I went into my bedroom and there was the Lesbian and I said to her: Well, you have said to me, one day I can be your teacher and this is what I want from you. I whispered and showed my knife I still had (strange stuff in a psychiatry they didn’t took my knife away………. Whatever) and I was scared anyone could notice and see about my plan so I had the idea to hide the knife inside of my pussy. It was fucking hard to get it out again by myself and then I threw it into the toilet. My Mom, my sister, and my brother, they visited me and my bro asked: Why is there a knife in the toilet? I couldn’t explain anything. I was in a state like: HALDOL very much and lying in my bed.

This is still not everything of Berlin. So many things. I talked to my monkey all the time. Mom got scared. There was noone around for real. “This is up, this is up” I said lying in my bed or sometimes falling down in the corridor, breaking down. I thought I would be in a time elevator who was going to bring to “heaven”, not heaven, but a paradise where there is peace and love for me and my monkey and wealth, lots of wealth, big cars, a villa, anything. About … I don’t know, maybe ten times I just collapsed in the corridor or anywhere I was and nurses got me up and doctors.

I got to know a monkey there who was blonde and thicker than mine and I believed alright, this is because of the time collapse so doesn’t matter, you can lose weight again, and then I wanted him to kill me. He didn’t want to. He was alright. He was scared. But we smoked cigarettes in his bedroom and he gave me glasses red, I believed, this is the Matrix episode now. I am in the Matrix. Alright.

What can I recall. This was the Lion King part still, when I lied on a couch I believed the people watching OUR movie now they want us to dance and then to fuck maybe but they will take us to the hotel and then we can kill ourselves to get into the real movie. FREE like monkeys.

Berlin, Berlin, Berlin… this was the first time I ever visited our capital. Nice stories, experiences, hm?

Ah, yes, I forgot the Benjamin Button part. Because of the time collapse. I started believing that I would never will have the chance to be with my man because he would grow young and I would grow old and then it would be my part to kill the baby Benjamin or let it die inside of my arms. Whatever.

So, somehow they got me out of this hell. I was still paranoid but not that hard any more. I was allowed to visit the town with my Mom, walk outside and this was a pleasure. I even saw the Spree. All people around me still actors and watchers. I say Berlin is hell, you know, dying hell of people, stress and .. everything. Mom drove me home again. Everything that happened after Berlin is still too close to me and I can only talk about this in German to my Mom and to friends. So I can cry maybe. Cry hard.

I saw him twice, once he was naked watching through a window of a room where I was having a bath naked, enjoying the silence and romance. I really saw him. Staring through the window. Next day I had paranoia I need to go, I need to leave this place (I was staying at grandma’s). And then I saw him walking at the hills I climbed like a female wolf. Then Dad came and arrested me again. He grabbed me like a doll and I believed he was a pedophele and all my family was a pedophil one they had spied and watched me since I was a baby and sold the material via web. This is not true. This was damn schizophrenia. I have just told my Mom about these thoughts. Crying.