Depression follows constant harassment.

One of the things that always bothered me about my captors and tormentors is that like Darth Korey, these people really believed that they were geniuses, and superior people to the common workers like me. In reality, what they were doing to me with their mind games in their effort to make me crazy was really no different than what you might see in some B movie where the relatives of a rich aunt try to drive her crazy by arrangeing events in her life. You know, the scene where the aunt walks in a room and sees a body hanging from the chandilier. She then runs screaming from the room to get help and when she returns with witnesses, the body is gone! Then the people around her tell how sick she is and that she needs help and should be confined to a hospitial. Eventually, the rich aunt starts to believe that there is something wrong with her and that she needs help. The whole idea of driving me crazy was not very original and only required my inprisonment to carry out the scheme.

Back to my story:

I continued to get more and more depressed and I felt less and less anxious about events. I felt I had been terrorized so much that my body no longer reacted to the external stimulus and threats in a defensive manner, but rather everything just caused me to become more depressed. As an example, one evening I was running around our housing development for exercise when a large black dog came out of nowhere and ran straight at me with its teeth showing and barking loudly. I came to a slow stop and stared at the dog who quickly retreated and then I continued on my way. As I continued on my way, I realized that the dog attack had not caused any reaction in me. I had felt no fear, no adrenalin rush and no I had no made any attempt to protect myself. I was just dead inside! Maybe my total lack of fear is why the dog cut off its attack so quickly.

In late October Dr. Iron finally prescribed an antidepressant. When he gave me the prescription, I remarked that he had waited so long that I was so depressed I didn't think the pills would do any good. He gave me some lame excuse for not giving the pills earlier, but in reality he had no good reason for waiting so long. My unhappiness over the inability to get proper treatment was slowly turning into hostility and I was beginning to express my anger toward Dr. Iron. I would have readily found a new doctor if I thought it would have done any good, but I knew the Nazi government controlled everything and the results would be the same regardless of who the doctor was. (I will relate later an incident which clearly demonstrates the extent to which the Nazi goverment monitored and controlled everything in my life).

As soon as I went on the antidepressants, the level of harassment went down at work, and natually my spirits picked up a little. Dr. Iron used my slight improvement as proof that the medication was helping treat my "illness". I was convinced that I was merely reponding to my environment, and that if the level of harassment increased again, my condition would deteriorate again. (Being a scientist, I later devised an experiment that demonstrated that my version of events was correct.) About two weeks later the level of harassment at work did pick up, and I became deeply depressed. Dr. Iron in response to my increasedf depression concluded he had used the wrong antidepressant.