Above is a picture of Sue Clark-Wittenberg taken in May 2007 in Ottawa, Ontario, CanadaI felt there was a need to expose psychiatry as the biggest medical out there today. Too often the public does not know what really goes on behind locked ward in psychiatric hospitals. I was
first admitted to a psychiatric ward in 1972 at the age of l7 years old and then was in and out of psychiatric ward for 18 years until 1990. I was tortured by psychiatric by their psychiatric diagnoses/labels, psychiatric medications/pills, and by electroshock also known as ECT and shock therapy, and by behaviour modification. In the 18 years I was psychiatrized I was given 15 different
psychiatric diagnoses from the DSM book (the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) and was given 14 types of psychiatric medications in those 18 years.
Since 1990, I have been free of psychiatry. I have not been on a psychiatric ward, nor have I taken any psychiatric medication. I have not seen a psychiatrist. I have gone to alternative therapists since then.
I was a psychiatric patient from 1972-1990. I was 17 years old in 1972 when I was first admitted to the Royal Ottawa Hospital in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada.
In 1972, I was homeless as a result of running away from home because I was being emotionally and physically abused my mother. I had no money and I had been staying at a friend's house named
Christine until her parents returned from Florida and I had to leave.
My high school psychologist at Sir Wilfrid Laurier High School which was on Carson Rd in Vanier, Ontario then asked me to come into the office. It was April of 1972 and I walked into her office.
She asked why I missed so much time at school and I told her I had run away from home and told her why and that I had stayed at a friend's house for a time. I told her I was homeless and had no one to turn to and that my nerves were bad. She suggested I go to the Royal Ottawa Hospital Emergency
Ward on Carling Ave in Ottawa to see someone and so I agreed to go. I had no other options at that time. The psychologist never told me of any other options like social services or any other type of resources that may have helped me out.
I had grown up in an upper middle class home and I wanted for nothing. I did not know that there was
any type of social services or welfare. I knew there were poor people but I did not know anything
much about how they lived.
I got on a bus and kept my appointment at the hospital. I walked into the Emergency ward and there was a psychiatrist named Dr. Arboleda-Florez and a nurse waiting for me. I went into a room with them and I spilled out the heart wrenching story about my mom and why I ran away from home.
I told them that my nerves were bad as I had been abused for 17 years. My mom had beaten me and had emotionally abused me since I was an infant.
The psychiatrist suggested I come into the hospital for a few days to rest. I agreed as I had no where to go. I was admitted to the Whitney 4 ward in the Whitney building. This was the start of a journey
to hell and back for me. I had no idea what was in store for me.
I was put on the locked ward where the nurse needed a key to get the elevator to open and the doors to the stairways were locked too. I felt like I was a prisoner and I had done nothing wrong.
