Self-protection for those with “mental disorders.”



by Dr.Harald Wiesendanger– Klartext

Those who believe they suffer from a “mental disorder” tend to surrender to medications that require them to swallow synthetic drugs, with questionable benefits and underestimated side effects. You should only attempt this if your doctor has previously certified that it is safe. Here’s a template for that.

Are you suffering from a psychological/mental burden that you don’t think you can handle on your own?

If you seek advice and help from a psychiatrist, there’s a perceived 101 percent probability that they will prescribe you a synthetic drug: a psychotropic drug.

They will likely assure you that this drug is “effective, safe, and well-tolerated” – and superior to any other treatment.

But many doctors from other specialties – general practitioners, internists – will likely treat you the same way.

If they were right, it should be easy for them to sign the following declaration.

If your doctor wants to prescribe a psychotropic drug, Protect yourself. Give them a printout of the following text. (You can order it here for free as an A4 leaflet.) Do not take the medication until they have given you the signed certificate.

Why should you insist? I explain this in several non-fiction books: Teufelszeug (2017), Unheilkunde (2017), as well as in volumes 2, 3, and 10 of my series Psycholügen (2017).

What happens to “mentally ill” people when they swallow pills?

What risks and side effects should people with “mental disorders” be prepared for when they allow themselves to be prescribed psychotropic medication? What should the doctor conscientiously inform them about before writing them a prescription?

How often does he ever do that? He’s more likely to assure them: “This will help you.” What he doesn’t say: Maybe it won’t help. Maybe it won’t help the person seeking help at all. Maybe he’ll end up worse off than before.

Consequently, there are a few things a doctor would have to talk about. Conscientiously. In detail. Maybe even honestly. Things that rarely find space between the prescription pad and the doorknob.

He would have to start with the crucial question: What exactly do these medications actually do? The honest answer is often: We don’t really know. Serotonin here, dopamine there – biochemical explanatory models that sound like someone was paying attention in chemistry class. But even leading psychopharmaceutical researchers admit: Much remains a game of placebos, hope – and statistical averages.

And then there are the side effects. A word that sounds like an annoying footnote to the cure. In truth, they are often the main text.

Antidepressants? Can give you drive – even to the point of suicidal impulses. Neuroleptics? Dampen delusions – and half your life with them. Emotions? Not really. Instead, there is weight gain, the risk of diabetes, loss of libido, movement disorders, and the charming possibility of losing your own self in a fog of apathy.

Critics like Danish medical researcher Peter Gøtzsche call these substances “chemical straitjackets.” He speaks of systematic trivialization, of an industry more interested in long-term use than in healing. After all, the best patient returns daily – to the pharmacy.

Things get particularly perfidious with benzodiazepines. What begins as a “little help” for anxiety or insomnia often ends in a deep addiction. After just a few weeks, the body can’t live without the chemical caress. Withdrawal? A hellish trip with trembling, sweating, panic attacks – as if the madness were returning, this time without an invitation.

But is it openly discussed? Rarely. A laconic “Don’t take it for too long” replaces information about withdrawal, which can sometimes be more serious than the original suffering.

What psychiatrists rarely mention: Many diagnoses, from depression to schizophrenia, are not precise medical findings, but interpretations. Labels attached to symptoms, often without objective evidence. The theory of “disturbed brain metabolism” sounds modern, relieves doctors’ workload – and fills the coffers of the pharmaceutical industry.

Studies critical of psychiatry have shown for years that, in many cases, antidepressants are barely more effective than placebos. But placebos are difficult to patent.

A toast to enlightenment – ​​which almost never happens.

So, what should a doctor explain? Perhaps psychotropic drugs don’t cure but rather suppress, stimulate, or numb. That the longed-for “balance” in the mind often comes at a high price – paid in lost emotions, addiction, or new illnesses.

They should explain that stopping can be more difficult than living with the diagnosis. That many patients are unable to find their way out of the illness, not the therapy.

But who wants to hear that when the hope of quick relief clatters so temptingly in the blister pack?

And so, one often leaves the doctor’s office with a prescription in hand and the feeling of finally being able to do something about the darkness within.

What remains is the bitter realization, which is rarely mentioned on package inserts: Not every chemical solution solves a problem. Some create one in the first place.

(Harald Wiesendanger)

This is an updated and expanded version of an article from September 19, 2021.