Approximately 2 weeks ago I was suffering from sleep deprevation. I couldn’t sleep because of many symptoms that coincide with my Mental Illness. I have a psychiatrist that I trust however medication is only part of the puzzle that is my present life. In addition I would like to note I believe Psychiatry is even close to an exact Science. Brain Chemistry is so complex and I think that every person truly is different. One may share similar genes and we could research what is hereditary but we truly are different Entities. I think that Psychiatry should not ever be considered to be a Proffesion; at best we should call it a practice.
Long Story short I was staying in a nice house somewhere in MA. That house was not mine and I am pretty sure that it was not insured. In fact my Landlord was a relative. Again I was having difficulty sleeping for various reasons; my Landlord would stop by unannounced and I don’t give an F who you are. In my book showing up at my crib without an invitation is a NO NO. Any who this relative woke me up and I was Grumpy. I told him to f off and leave me catch up on some Z`s. This relative finally left the premises and I was in my bed on my way to dreaming. All sudden I woke up, it was surreal. Check this true ish; he showed up with his Brother. I flipped. I was mad Cranky. The presence of these two individuals mad me furious. I then had to take over the counter medications and use my skills to calm down. Despite that circumstance I manage to almost reach baseline. One of these mother elfin punks told me that I HAD to go to another Psychiatric Facility to be checked out. I knew that going to one of those local hospitals would cause severe additional psychological triggers. (Panic Attacks.) Therefore I tried to explain that to these “family” members but both of these two poop heads drink Alcohol on a regular basis. I have not drank a drop of booze in years. I am not bragging about that truism but I am proud because it hasn’t been an easy road in my recovery.
I don’t give an F my Uncle decided he should call that town po po to convince me that I needed to get help. Mother F that ish that stupid man effer. I was like whatever if they are good cops I will be able to reason with them and get my much needed rest. These corrupt pieces of garbage obviously forgot the oath they took to wear a county badge. This one Walpole bich said his badge number was fifty-seven. F that C***. I hope that twat gets cancer, Aids, and Gonnerea. My b I’m kind of Savage RN. So that punk trick called back up and his bich was a lil hoe too. I explained to them the situation and he was a power hungry pig. He refused to let me outside my spot for fresh air. I then asked those Police to call 911. Yo i know most of the laws in the U.S.A. I took out the books from the local Library. At this point I was heated I told them about jurisdiction and asked for State Troopers. Shortly there after another town cop rode up. I hustled toward that officer but those other two pussies jumped me ass. That third cop helped them slam me into the side of my fams truck. They cuffed me as I screamed HELP. No neighbors were home so there were no witnesses. I then realized that my smart phone was broken and I forgot to film all of that. Also I forgot to take one of my prescriptions in all that commotion. Those stupid pieces of BACON put me in cuffs then in restraints in the back of an ambulance. FULL BLOWN PANIC ATTACK! Not going to lie yo, I was was crying like a bitch. I was literally begging that EMT to take the restraints off I couldn’t breathe at all. I then yelled at myself to toughen up and stop crying like a bitch and thought of my own worst nightmares. All of the sudden that shit got funny to me…my heart was racing so i started praying. Hail Marys, Our Fathers, Serenity! Then I talked mad shit to that EMT. Yo though, that ambulance was bouncing pigs cuffed me so tight and restraints…shit was brutal lol. This true story gets better. That ambulance brought me to another corrupt Hospital that traumatized me on a few other occasions. Once in the locked ER I met a lovely African-American security guard. She was real, probably only on the job to make ends meet. I was strip searched and injected with two syringes into my thigh muscles.
I have no elfin idea what those drugs were but my legs still hurt. Already in a locked unit in cuffs I TALKED MAD SHIT TO THAT POOR EXCUSE FOR A POLICE OFFICER. He finally uncuffed me and I YELLED F U see your ass in court. Realistically though, If i were to report Walpole County Cops to the MASS State Police…wouldnt they just protect themselves. Code of blue doesn’t trust the G CODE. Anyways a childhood family friends father is a chief of Police in a nearby town. Here is my honest opinion: every one out of one-hundred Police Officers you may encounter in your lifetime is a “Good Cop.” Oh yeah, and Dedham District and Superior Court…forget about a fair trial. Im probably not pressing charges but Karma. I believe in Karma. Blah blah i spent the past two weeks in a mediocre locked acute psychiatric facility. The Dr and I had different opinions but there were mad cool patients. Some of the staff held it down too. Whenever or wherever Ive been locked up I always have God. I pray. The way I do it is just convince myself that Im never getting out, that way you don’t have shit to look forward to. Theres always a few cool people everywhere I’ve been locked up. Also solitary sucks, whether its a padded room or a cell. But if your lucky you a get a window and there might be some ants or other bugs. ANYWAY I’m out now but i need to get work. I have a lot of “pipe dreams,” but I need a weekly paycheck on the books. Its all good! If read my blog I don’t give a F what you think. If it helps you great. If you judge me, you clicked the link, you read, no worries. One love. -Michael.
Hello, My name is Michael Joseph Tuleja, I am 28 Years Old, From Westwood MA. Primarily I would to start with natural forms of energy to be converted into stored electricity…generators for efficiency. We could use exercise equipment to power some of these generators. We could use Bicycles, Rowing machines that contain water, and weight machines to convert that physical work i think it is force multiplied by distance somehow into those generators. Next we could invest in Solar Panels, Use the Wind for Massive windmills like those on Cape Cod. Also If we use the Oceans and Rivers to make damns we can reduce our need for modern electricity. I have many other ideas but i need to get the patents first. I have several federal cases that are a Class action lawsuit against a local hospital for malpractice. I think that they are under Federal jurisdiction with private insurance and they are not profit. I have several ideas regarding farming. We could go back irrigation like i think it was the mesopotanians? But I am concerned about the pollution in the environment. We could provide organic foods fruits and vegetables for a profit. Some plants might have grown indoors but again they can be powered by solar panels. We could also fire again for heat. We use a Furness but we need the proper ventilation for the exhaust. I do not have knowledge of trade regulations and taxes regarding the import and export of many products into and out of our country. I would also like to provide cost-effective and safe treatment facilities for victims of addiction. In addition I need funding for research into the effects of physical abuse on the brain for people like myself. More specifically athletes and victims of physical abuse. For that shark who does that jewelry stuff. I am concerned about Blood Diamonds in Africa, but we can get most of our fabrics from various parts Europe actually all over Europe. Most of the technologies and other products could be produced in places like China but i am worried about child Labor. In regards to real estate the building permits, codes, plumbing inspectors, architects, it’s very complicated but could build what we need for business. I also like energy efficient transportation I have a 2004 Lexus GS430 but i think will get a TESLA eventually. I usually walk or bike, sometimes use the MBTA because of my anxiety. I do not need money or profit as long my new inventions and ideas put to use and for the greater good. All members of the Shark Tank will profit exponentially. Sometimes I can’t spell but speak spanish, and studied Latin. Most forms of communication are non verbal anyways. This only a brief summary of my ideas today I have so many more ideas but don’t trust the private sector, but i do completely understand how Hollywood and The music Industry operates. I also have knowledge of the entire United States History and how every branch conducts…well we discuss that in a confidential secluded location. Thank you for your time and consideration, You get the money I make donations! Sincerely Michael Joseph Tuleja.
Today is 1-19-17 a few weeks ago my sister called the local police because she was not well and blaming me for her problems. Everyone kept on blaming my mental stability this past fall on my medical marijuana use however the truth is that plant is the only reason I made it to this past December. I haven’t had a drink of alcohol since 5-6-2014. Since I stopped drinking I have not been violent. The closest I came was a little wrestling with my Dad. I love my family.
These past few weeks, well primarily I made the mistake of trusting the local police. As someone who they thought suffered from mental illness they told me I would go to Norwood Hospital to be checked out. They lied to me and I was then further tortured for the past month. That Hospital is part of the Steward system along with St. Elizabeth`s Hospital in Brighton. I have now found safety once again in the care of an IOP at the Westwood Lodge. I have made a treatment plan that if for any reason I need psychiatric care that I will go to Mass General Hospital or McClean’s Hospital. The professionals there are some of the best in the world and I trust most of them. I have found out that only Private practice doctors in MA can promote medicinal marijuana. Right now I am taking several pharmaceutical drugs…
All of which have side effects.
In St Elizabeth’s Hospital I was tortured. Dr. Zarski was a piece of poop. He was so disrespectful. He talked down to me and tried to make me feel inferior. At that Hospital they prescribed a drug to me called Envega. That drug caused me to be calm however it made me psychotic. For me Anti-psychotics have an adverse effect…they make me psychotic. They recorded all of my words and behaviors none of which I can take responsibility for. Under the influence of that dangerous drug I was resourceful enough to call the DPPC hotline and report every despicable act by some of those staff. I was lied to repeatedly. Under the influence they refused to explain to me and abide by the laws regarding a 3 day, section 10, and 12. They used my energy, knowledge, and good intentions to their advantage; while I further suffered. One time an old witch named Kate physically hit me. That violence didn’t hurt but the act of hitting me triggered severe flashbacks to all the times I was physically abused by friends and family as a child. I now have severe PTSD. Laura, another nurse, came in after that incident and I reported her to the hotline too. She was verbally abusive. During the day there nurse manager named Matt. He was a sick individual. He manipulated a nice nurse named Chip into forcing me into the “quiet room” to be injected with three syringes. They were about 8 inches tall and one inch wide. I was told they were Haldol which made me more psychotic. The next syringe was Ativan; which jeopardized my sobriety. I was also stabbed with Benadryl for further sedation. Keep in mind all of my behavior was the result a misdiagnosis and malpractice. All of my rights were violated in the Steward hospitals; again I was verbally and physically abused on a daily basis. THIS IS 2017. I would also like to mention that I witnessed many other patients being tortured as well. The staff would repeatedly make us beg for food. The kitchen also consistently messed up the patients orders for the meals we so desperately desired. Dr. Martin was an okay DR. There was some other staff that did help out here there. For instance the best secretary was Rosando…always courteous. Amid was an African man who was always very helpful. Somalie was not helpful. Many of the nurses had a severe attitude problem…like how come you couldn’t be polite? Carmela should have realized that the patients get to watch what they want; they are the people there for treatment. Along the way, and out of respect for patient confidentiality, I met many new friends. Some of these patients didn’t truly have noticeable mental illness. The saddest part is that I missed Christmas…they drugged me to a point where I completely missed the Holiday. The Steward system is messed up. I am back in the DMH system but my PTSD is well words can’t describe it. I have Panic attacks, Flashbacks, Nightmares and Night Terrors. I can’t control my subconscious but with my Faith in God I know I will eventually recover.