English letter

Scriu și trimit această scrisoare de întâmpinare în limba engleză, pentru a fi clar și pentru vizitatori din alte țări; îmi cer scuze pentru eventualele erori gramaticale, nu știu engleză mai bine.

Hello, I am a person from Romania, with a physical disability and an unjust psychiatric diagnostic, but I beg you to read on, maybe you will need me somehow or you will find something interesting for your personal inquiries. I am not begging or dreaming for help, knowing that it is not available. I found your email from the internet.

I am aware that this email seems to be a spam email, an impolite intrusion in a “private” space, something out of normality, or obviously a desperate attempt to communicate one’s trouble. You may say that there are so many poor people, so many lonely people, so many unjust psychiatric diagnostics, so many people struck by cancer, etc., why should you listen to this one – assumedly a beggar?

Maybe you will put aside this foolish letter of mine and you will stop reading or maybe you will read the whole letter of greeting written and sent by me through the ethereal space. It is like the message of a shipwrecked person, written with a piece of charcoal and thrown onto the ocean’s waves, bottled in, in a naïve thrust of hope. A long time I believed that my status was the one of a mutilated slave, but today facts seem to indicate that it is the case of a murdered woman.

Of course I read a few things about the outcomes of psychiatric cases, and I found on the internet articles about the “old times” when psychiatric patients were sterilized and killed. Things that are not taught in schools. I wondered why they did not teach in school a thing about psychiatric malpractice, while if there is a case of human judgment, then there is also room for errors.

Of course I always wanted to stay alive, but I was and still am poisoned from time to time, obviously poisoned. This fact can be seen as a psychiatric symptom, I know this, but reading psychiatric reports I understood, like any other logical mind, that this can be real poisoning sometimes. It is possible for you to a priori think that there is always someone who takes care in a competent manner of psychiatric patients’ lives and deaths, thus denying that there can be cases of extreme abuse and injustice. I can confess that I had no sins or mistakes my whole life and I was an intelligent and trustworthy person. I never had a chance to make a normal living, no chance at all, and I was isolated in fact since I was 13, in 1984. I was a high school teacher for 2 years, but I did not have a chance, I will not explain here in detail. Now I am still isolated – it is almost 37 years now, it is not a case of pandemic isolation. My only relationship always was and is my mother – I don’t have other relatives in this residential area except for a distant one of my mother’s and my 2 cousins never messaged me, let alone talking on the phone. No just one time a lifetime. I stand up in front of you from the position of a 50 year old poor woman, extremely isolated without any reason, for certain. Almost completely isolated since 1984, when I moved with my parents from my grandmother’s home. Back then I did not realize that my father was not my biological father. I write to you because of an extreme and inhumanely prolonged isolation, with the humble prayer to help me if possible, if you know a place or a group of people in Bucharest, where a decent person of my age and education – 23 years in state schools: 12 years mandatory school – mathematics and physics, 6 years of psychology and 5 years of medicine – can go to attend meetings or to be needed somehow. Now I live in Voluntari, near Bucharest. I still have a property in Bucharest. I tried to find something and someone a lifetime in vain. I am addressing you as a human being and not as a professional, not even as a therapist. This is the real reason for contacting you and your colleagues – a real, normal and justified, well thought over attempt to be together with others, if only just a little bit, - of this lone human being, this woman, who was almost completely isolated since she was 13 years of age, having been involved in only 5 face-to-face communicational relations with other persons – 3 of her high-school colleagues (2 girls and a boy) and then a female student and a female older neighbor. No sexual relations at all, but I believe that this does not matter, because I was a really good individual and I could maybe be helpful to others. Apart from this 5 relations a lifetime, I had only a few close relatives – now dead - and only a few distant social interactions. Because of the psychiatric diagnostic, I was either rejected unjustly or I was really told that I had no rights to study or to have a job – and my medical family doctor, without being a psychiatrist, refused to give me the necessary papers for a supposed-to-be job. It was like someone was reenacting a scene from Les Misérables. I never had someone to talk on the phone to or someone to write to at least. I couldn’t have been a hooker on the street. I tried in vain everything I could, no one wanted to accept me or to help me.

My physical handicap is that I am lame because of my suicide attempt at the end of 1998. Back then I was content with my life’s opportunities (I was forced to enter medical school by the lack of a job opportunity), I was a medical student (also isolated as a person, yet hopeful), but I jumped on the window because I had a horrible headache and I believed that I would go insane. I lack only 1/3 of my left leg and I have a prosthetic limb. From the psychological point of view, I suffer too much from solitude, but it has been almost 37 years of isolation! I also have the habit to talk aloud alone in my room sometimes, because of many reasons, I won’t go into detail – but I never talk in my mind and never talk aloud on the street. I never heard voices, like it is written about some psychotics, and I perceived others’ thoughts only starting with 2005, whilst I had a psychiatric schizophrenia diagnostic since 1992. This unwelcomed thoughts don’t disturb me too much lately, even if they seem to hate me and to declare that they have to kill me, on and on. Or that I was condemned to die without any guilt, or that they have to cover it up. I can at least banish them somehow at least partly – and everything is quiet again in my mind if I try to. They don’t control me. I am still able to walk on the street longer distances and to do some house petty chores. To clean up my room or to handwash what’s necessary. To keep my body clean, etc. To cook if I want to. It is true that right now I am obese and I try to lose weight. In 2013 I started to write a public blog where I related and explained my entire life, each and every detail, in Romanian. Now it is completed. I did this hoping to be saved from poisoning – because it is a horrible injustice. Besides this, I wrote poetry since 2007, like many lonely people do, because I had no choice, in order to find at least some comments from casual readers on the internet. Lately I almost stopped writing poems, because I could not write something good for others, no one needed my poems. My only joy is to see people on the street at least – or at the Sunday mass, where no one talks with me and I know no one but a child – and to talk a few casual words with the cashiers at the supermarket. It is hardly bearable. I don’t have the need to talk it out, I don’t have the need to talk about my life like psychotic patients do on the internet, I mostly have the need to see and hear other people. I use to complete or read different free online courses on the net for my intellectual health. On my blog you can find a thorough analysis of my life’s events, of everything I have done or seen. I believe that there are no justified reasons to reject completely, thus killing, this woman, myself. Even medical doctors, apart from psychiatrists, rejected me and did not provide adequate help when I asked for. I provided information about that too.

I am sending this very letter and the address of my blog wherever I can find an address on the net, and I would have done this for whoever would have been in my place, because it is the case of a beautiful endangered wonder – a human being. It is like an S.O.S. emission, on and on… in the hope that you or anyone else will need me a little bit – whatever I can do – and not necessarily pity me because I was a victim and I am defenseless. I am still alive. To accept me for what I can still be and do. I would do anything I can in order to be with others a little bit in my lifetime. I could have proven that I never had delusions or other psychiatric symptoms and I could have proven many times that I was really poisoned, but this is not important. 4 years ago I was forced to accept a small pension, which grew since then, till it reached 800 Romanian Lei per month – but the medic who gave me the papers wrote that I had lost my working capacity 100%.

I believe that poisoning – only this “symptom” - cannot be a reason for totally rejecting a human being, even if you don’t believe that she is right. The person can be given some tasks, even if supervised, or she can be accepted for things she can do, which are not related to the “poisoning” truth. It is true, with one exception, psychiatric medics did not talk with me. I believe that every individual should have a chance to be correctly assessed, and not only from the words of his relatives or from the words of the medical staff or colleagues who supposedly knew the individual before that moment of assesment. I can say that I have the necessary abilities to be together with other people without talking about my past or complaining about my future, I have no interest whatsoever to hurt or to disturb others, and I always was an altruistic person, just read my blog and you will understand, if you don’t believe this. I was always the same.

In the name of God, or, to put it in better words – in the name of religiosity as an attitude directed toward good and humanity, I write here again this plea for life, if you are able to help the least possible.
Please accept my best regards and thanks,
Cristina-Monica Moldoveanu

An older letter

Revered ...X,
I doubt you will be able to read my painful letter, painful from the point of view of one individual – myself – who was continuously imprisoned and tortured since the age of 13 and a half (1984), having a psychiatric history of imprisonment since 1992. Meanwhile, I was able to be a pupil and a student for 23 years with good results and without repeating scholarship years, studying 6 years of psychology and 5 years of medicine, without being able to sustain my master dissertation, because I was rejected by colleagues and told by my teacher that I don’t have the right to study psychology because I was psychiatrically diagnosed with schizophrenia in 1992, when I was in my 2nd year as a student in Bucharest, within the Psychology Faculty at the University. Thus I couldn’t have been endowed with credentials in order to overlook cases of mentally ill patients, because I was enrolled in a master's program for psychotherapy. That was not my goal, I was forced to sustain an entrance exam there, although my interest was high in education or other psychology studies, being by nature fond of theories and less of a practitioner. But, after obtaining my psychology license after 5 years of studies, I could not find a job, seeing that almost all of my colleagues were endowed with different jobs and were able to do something for a living. And in Bucharest, only psychotherapy was available as a master scholarship.

After losing one year of my life like that, I stayed at home with my parents, alone once more. Then I entered medical studies, after 2 failed attempts, the third time, in 1998. I had a suicide attempt at the end of 1998 – my only attempt of that kind – because I was struck with a terrible headache and I believed I would lose my mind and become something evil like the others who followed my steps on the streets telling fantasies and evil things as if they knew me – I truly believed back then that they were totally insane and manipulated by some evil mind, but my headache was horrible and my father refused to take me to the hospital. I lost half of my left leg and luckily enough I was given a prosthetic limb. Then I continued my medical studies, but I was not physically able to go through all of them, and I abandoned my 5th year there.

Luckily enough, after the kind and helpful advice of one of my ex-psychology teachers, I obtained a job as a teacher in one of Bucharest’s high-schools as a psychology and economy teacher – in the social sciences department. But I was rejected and I was pushed outside since I entered there and I was forced to resign in 2006, after 2 years there. Before that, I was a teacher when I was a still a psychology student in the high school where I was once a student and a kind of assistant teacher in a University, but my psychology teacher did not accept me there, simply because I was not good enough in her opinion, and maybe she was right, but she was not right to think that I was mentally ill and prone to be differently treated than other students.

Then, in 2007, when I was 36 I hardly found a job as a librarian at the Academy of Economic Studies in Bucharest, where I was the object of crystal clear abuses and maltreatment and forced to resign at the end of 2007. I took the opportunity to work there because my ex-teachers from the University sent me to a psychiatrist who told me that I am not allowed to do any job, and never a job involving children, because of my psychiatric diagnostic. And she told me to find some job as an isolated person, e.g. librarian or archive worker. Then I could no more find any job, and I tried in vain to be helped by psychology associations or organizations or social integrative resources like the “Motivation” Foundation in Bucharest, where they could not find me a job in more than 2 years.

Anyway, as a whole, it looks like a normal life of an isolated psychiatric patient throughout life stages. You may ask why I am writing to you. Desperate needs of course. I consider my case to be worth the attention of someone good, for a few reasons:

• I was the object of many ethical mistakes by psychologists and psychiatrists. I am counting here a few – one psychologist emitted an official assessment paper about my psyche telling obvious lies and she did not even talk with me, she asked me only one thing – how are my relationship with God and I answered that it is a good one because I see God in natural phenomena in city parks, etc. Nothing else and she invented obvious nonsense about my thinking and talking that would have been impossible without incoherence – and it was obvious that I was never incoherent and vulgar. Every time I was imprisoned in the hospital no one talked with me, no one asked me anything, only one of my psychiatrists treated me as a human being and talked with me, from time to time.
• I was always very poor, ever since I was a child, being almost the poorest in any community of students I was in. Then I suffered from hunger after my father’s death in 2005 and losing my jobs, I had no money for food or clothes for several years and I was forced to beg on the street. I was still able to do some work and I was not old, but I had no social connections at all, apart from my mother. My parents were almost monsters and abused me in adolescence.
• I had no sins or mistakes whatsoever – it is the truth, though it seems improbable.
• I was a very kind person, always enraptured with love for life and human beings, taking delight in nature contemplation, helping others, and reading philosophy or art history.
• The most hideous thing is that I was and am totally alone, and I was alone even when I was enrolled in different stages of my life's education. When I was a child I was not forcibly isolated, being raised by my paternal grandmother, because my family knew that my parents were insane. But what I could not realize then was that my father was not my biological father. There were only a few persons talking with me my whole life and among them only a few evil persons who did me wrong. Now it’s been 36 years of isolation and suffering. I was born in 1971.
• I am very eager to be with others, at least to see or to hear others talk, I am usually silent, but I desperately need some kind of relationship, but I was rejected even by psychiatric patients’ support groups and psychologists and psychiatrists lied once more about me. Three years ago, when I was 46 years old, one medical doctor – only one judge – wrote that I lost my capacity of work 100% - and I was forced to accept a small pension, but what he did are an abuse and a lie. My family doctor refused since 2007 – when I was 36 – to give me an official paper that I was able to work or to study anything – because she said that the law is like that because I am a psychiatric patient.
• I was poisoned for years and I had proofs about that, but no one talked with me, no one visited me… I might have been considered insane lately because of that. I know that psychiatric patients are sometimes forced to confess that they are poisoned. My only social relationship is my mother, who was my lifetime prosecutor and executioner.

With the hope and that maybe someone will read carefully my plea, I sign here, sending you the address of my blog where I wrote everything about my life, even the most intimate aspects, where you can find links to other blogs or internet pages of mine, because I was forced to do some poetry writing, without being accepted, but winning by chance a contest in Romania. Any kind of advice or help is very welcomed. Many thanks and all my good wishes,

Cristina-Monica Moldoveanu

https://cristina-moldoveanu.blogspot.com/
https://muzelealbe.wordpress.com/blog/