These are the events which were going to happen in each of those five incarcerations. It was wrong in each instance to incarcerate someone for their faith.
I have been incarcerated 5 times in California, the United Kingdom and at request of the British Embassy on falsified information given by the NHS, Rome.
Each instance was due to my firm beliefs and want to be with Our Lord Jesus Christ. I received these wants from Him.
On 4 of the 5 incarcerations sin was committed by my family, by those in the NHS who ignored what I said and by the Police force of Greater London and Manchester for witnessing the criminal act of religious persecution before their very eyes.
In San Francisco sin was committed by several people when I was incarcerated, by the man who assaulted me, by his colleague the gardener who gave a false testimony to the Police Officer who arrived at the scene, by the Police Officer who ignored my own testimony and failed to act in a just way, by me too in leaving a conversation with my father unqualified sufficiently to prevent him from making false claims of suicide to the Police of Oakland. Sin was committed by Dr Thomasini for holding a grudge against me for kissing a kind lady on her forehead who helped me when I was under the influence of a sedative.
In all cases crimes were committed by the Police and the doctors, nurses and mental health practitioners involved.
This is religious persecution of a Roman Catholic spanning 7 years of abuse in the member state of the United Kingdom.
There was a conversation with my father about things which were not true. I sinned by saying some things. Not everything I said was sinful. Not everything I wrote was not true. I was looking for life with Our God. I made some false claims about Him, about who I had been called to be.
My father compiled at his convenience a testimony based on some of the things which I had written, omitting sinful things he had written and said to me, and omitting also peaceful words from myself both of which were written and verbal, and sent this to a mental health practice in California. He pressured me into visiting hospital for several days to confirm his own diagnosis of me which was bipolar disorder. He had prepared this diagnosis himself, he is not qualified through any means in mental health. He was researching things about people who had been told they had this so-called condition on the internet, including a video of someone who has been told he has a mental health condition, Stephen Fry, with a video of that actor on YouTube giving his account of what this man thinks is now true of him. No facts did my father know about my true beliefs at the time.
He had been doing this some weeks prior, it was his belief to have, it must be ignored by anyone looking at this evidence. It has no basis in truth. It is his firmly held opinion but it is I who have had my human rights violated.
He used this evidence he had constructed together with his own false testimony about what he said I had told my parents on the morning of 15th March 2012 continually against me over a 7 year period.
He still holds all my files from this time. He tells me he wants to confirm what was true at the time. Not one part of what he has compiled is true.
I was praying peacefully using the words from the back of The Holy Bible, Catholic prayers with my mother over Skype on the morning of the 15th.
It was told to me later that she instructed my father with a gesture I could not see to phone for an ambulance. They informed the Police I was sinning by committing suicide. They have repeated this claim a number of times in the last 7 years. It has been repeatedly used as evidence to say I am mentally ill.
It was never true.
I have never committed suicide. I have harmed neither myself nor anyone else except with shoves and banter children would do as a child with my siblings.
I have never made an attempt to commit suicide, even in my darkest thoughts I have not even come close to wanting to. The Lord God has been with me all my life.
The Police arrived and I remember the time being 8:50am local time in San Francisco.
They witnessed that I was well, that there was no implement of suicide in my apartment. They asked me to see pet detergent, bleach, which was safely secured under the sink. They did see a paper cup from Burger King filled with a small amount of water and 3 cigarettes which I showed them. I had told my father this was a poison chalice he wanted me to drink from. I was clearly not going to drink from this rancid water that I had prepared. They deduced themselves what was true immediately, that I had been speaking metaphorically with my father. What I said to my father about The Lord’s Body and Blood and a sacrifice I thought I was making to Our Lord by giving up cigarettes was gravely sinful. It was not a crime in America what I did or said but it was sinful. It was not an illness, but these words were very sinful.
After 30 minutes the Police were ready to leave. They looked at my driving licence as identity to prove who I was for their files. They offered to phone an ambulance for me but told me this was entirely my choice at the time. I told them that my parents had continuously insisted that I take myself to hospital. I told the Police I would happily go there voluntarily to please my parents and satisfy their diagnosis was wrong.
This act was repeated in my second section in Greater Manchester in March 2017, when Our Lord spoke to me and told me what to say to the mental health practitioners during their mental health assessment.
It is what one would normally do to obey one’s parents. I should not have let this happen. But I did because I wanted to honour Our Lord’s 10 Commandments.
By accepting the ambulance I was not acknowledging in any way, and it was clear in what I said at the time, that I was ill nor did I want to go myself to the hospital. It was for my parents. It was for peace for myself and with my parents.
The Police knew this, the ambulance service knew this, the hospital I arrived at who did nothing but put a security tag around my leg knew this.
I studied His Word in The Holy Bible when I lay in a hospital bed of the triage area of the Summit Pavilion in Oakland. They gave me a room to lie down on a bed overlooking a nurse’s office. The nurse was working on his computer and I repeatedly asked him to read my Facebook posts, I asked him if he could phone my parents in England. The man did not do anything for me. He ignored every request I made. I was given nothing but a few cups of water to drink. No tablets did I take in this visit.
After seeing that no one was doing anything at all, I decided to leave. I left through the big doors where the ambulance would have arrived and a very loud alarm went off. I scorned them for tagging me and not informing me of doing so. They were wrong to do this. I told them when I arrived to not lock me up, and they had done exactly this by tagging me. They took the tag off and apologised to me. I calmed down a little bit and thanked them for their apology but I was still annoyed with what they had done.
I then proceeded to the pedestrian exit of the hospital after being verbally accusative to the nurse at reception. I was angry by what they had done.
The man at reception on my way out offered me a taxi, I should have taken this, but I was angry.
I was given want to go into the local shop outside the hospital. I knew only to buy flowers, a bunch of red roses. They were under $10. I walked outside and saw a man who was homeless. I gave him the flowers and told him they were for him. He found a woman just leaving her car as I walked away. I turned and saw what happened. He gave this woman, much wealthier than he was, this bunch of red roses which the Lord Jesus Christ had given him to give to her. She smiled and they exchanged warm words between them. I smiled too. I love You, Jesus. You gave me Your Hope this day while everything in my life was being destroyed.
I then proceeded to walk a couple of blocks and did not know the way back. I found my way very easily to the Bart station by asking people I met on the street. I asked for help, having left my wallet at home, at the Bart ticket machine to show me the way back to Emeryville. Not a single person acknowledged my need to get home. Not even the lady at the information booth would help me. I considered jumping over the turnstile but knew it was wrong to do so. Our Lord was with me and He made it known to me that I should not break the law despite what I might need.
I sat in the Bart station with my Bible in my hand. There was a man who walked past me who saw I had His Word with me in my hand and he verbally insulted me. Not a single person gave me so much as a dollar to help me.
I then proceeded up the same road I was on and tried to find another means of transport.
I entered a bicycle shop and tried to ask for directions. They did not help me much but instead mocked me. I asked if I could borrow a bike, this was not foolish and I told them I would pay them soon, and they mocked me.
They followed me out of the store as I was waiting on the corner of the street and they continued to mock me further as they rode past on their bike and then back to their store.
I then went up to the Nissan dealership, which has since moved to the other side of the road, I now see there is building work there on Google Maps.
I spoke to a family there and told them to buy a car suitable for their growing family. I was told to leave by the salesman there, they seemed to want to buy a convertible instead at first and I would have been ruining his commission. I left peacefully knowing I was not welcome.
I then sat outside the First Presbyterian Church on the top of the steps. In truth I just wanted to pray to Our Lord in His House.
I was then given want to knock on the door by Our Lord, it was a heavy door and I did this with my Bible. This was sinful of me, and I am sorry. Knocking on the door was not the sin, it was to use His Holy Bible which contained a vessel of Holy Water with Our Lady’s image on it which I had bought from Oakland Catholic Cathedral, The Cathedral of Christ the Light, some weeks prior.
The vessel containing Holy Water shattered with the impact of the Bible on the heavy wooden door and I opened my Bible to find broken glass. I was sad. I began to cry. I had all but given up hope. I asked Jesus for help.
Then two gardeners, one young about my age at the time, and another who would have been his manager in his late 40s appeared from the side of the Church. They had heard me knocking on the door.
The elder of the two asked me to walk down the steps after he approached me and leave. I told him that I wanted to enter the Church to pray. He told me others were in the Church peacefully praying. This was not true, the Church was certainly closed.
He then came up to me and started being extremely aggressive. Without warning he pushed me very hard down the steps of that Church. He then threw my Bible onto the street. I managed to escape without any more than a sprained ankle. I fell backwards, but managed to get footing on three of the steps I jumped down. I had Our Lord’s help to escape without more than a sprained ankle.
One of the pages of my Bible had been torn when he did this and I went to report this assault I had received to the restaurant across the street. I asked them for help in contacting the Police. They told me to leave while saying they were going to phone 911 about me, not about that man.
I wanted to ask the people at the bar of the restaurant for food, but I had no money. I asked them for tap water, they refused to help me in any way. Tap water is free. Why did they not listen to the assault allegation I made?
I had given up. I took a photo of where I was at the time, which I have found for the first time in 7 years today with the help of Our Lord Jesus Christ:
This is what the street looked like at the time, it is now a Nissan dealership with the same restaurant underneath. It was safe for me to take this photo, there were no cars in sight.
The First Presbyterian Church is to the left of this.
Looking at the map today, it seems it is a short walk back to my home at the time at 1202A Powell Street. It was not difficult for any one of those people I spoke to tell me how to get home even by foot. This was a foreign country I was in, I did not know Oakland city centre in any way, but I did know the streets of Emeryville reasonably well as this is where I lived for over a year. Had I been told to walk a bit further down the road in any direction I would have known where I was. The Cathedral I visited occasionally is very close to here too.
After about 10 minutes the Police Officer I had seen earlier in the day arrived at the scene. My trousers had fallen down to my ankles, I had lost a lot of weight and I failed to pick them up when I was told to. I was foolish to do so but I was not indecent, I was wearing other garments of clothing too. It was not a crime what I did in my lack of action, there was no one harmed by my actions, and I had been physically assaulted by someone who remained on the street corner when the Officer received my witness statement.
The younger gardener walked over to the Police Officer and spoke quietly to him. He gave him no more than evidence I had not been assaulted by his superior. This was wrong. It needed investigation by the Officer. He had my statement.
Instead the Officer claimed I was delirious. He claimed I had taken drugs. He claimed I was indecent, naked, in the street. None of these claims were true. Nor did he want to press charges, as he saw no reason to. He had only want to section me I thought, from what I could see to send me somewhere else so his statements would not need to be verified in court, and the crime I reported to him would not need investigation.
I had taken marijuana before in my life and it was well known to my friends and family I had been taking this for years. I had stopped smoking any drugs from 1 month prior to this day. This was known to be true, they tested me for drugs and they found no trace when I was incarcerated in hospital. I am sorry, Jesus, for doing these things to You. It was sinful to do what I had been doing with marijuana for so long in my 20s. It was wrong of me to do those things. I was told to stop by Our Lord Jesus Christ. He gave me want to stop when I stopped.
He sectioned me according to their law and an ambulance arrived to take me back to Summit Pavilion.
In the ambulance I witnessed gross negligence by the two paramedics. They failed to lock the rear door and had to stop to close it again, while I believed I had been tied to the bed and could easily have suffered injury had I not told them to take action. I was scared seeing them continue to drive with the doors open, they did not take due care of me, their incarcerated patient.
In the ambulance I felt excruciating pain in my feet. I thought at the time this was suffering I was enduring on account of their sin. I was told by Our Lord Jesus Christ recently that this pain was from Him. It was pain He gave me to experience.
It felt like two nails being driven through the top of my feet.
This pain was only present when the ambulance driver who was in charge was reversing into the hospital bay. I screamed in agony. I had never felt anything like it.
The ambulance driver stopped reversing. The pain vanished immediately.
I thanked him for stopping and for relieving me of this excruciating pain. He then proceeded to continue to reverse and the pain returned even stronger. I screamed again and exclaimed words to him which were not sinful, I was given want to say them. I told the driver and his assistant that they were crucifying me. Our Lord Jesus Christ has told me today that this was not sinful, He gave me knowledge and want to say those words at the time.
The ambulance driver turned around from his chair and shouted at me. He told me to shut up. He had mocked me this entire journey, had committed gross negligence and then told me to shut up when I told him I was in pain.
They wheeled me into the foyer of the hospital and with the commotion that was outside there were many nurses lined up waiting inside reception. They saw I was the same person they had admitted earlier and they made the Sign of the Cross. They knew what they were doing.
With my restrained hands I smiled at the people who made the Sign of the Cross and made a sign of peace with my restrained hand.
They wheeled me around to the corridor I had been in earlier that day, restrained I thought in the bed. They were told to read what was already known. I told them a few times that the ambulance driver had been negligent and that he had mocked me, that he abused me. They questioned him but did nothing.
I saw a man suffering from sickness in the next room and called him Peter. He responded saying his name was Simon Peter. This was known by him to say those words. His name was clearly not Peter, nor Simon Peter. I read the number on the door and was foolish to do so. I sinned by doing this. I am sorry for this sin, Our Lord.
What I said to that man was he was a witness to this persecution. I did not believe it was that he was Simon Peter, nor did I believe I was literally going to His Cross. These were not words I believed at the time, they were spoken metaphorically but they would have been misunderstood by anyone who wanted to misunderstand them. I was not mentally ill. I was fully aware of what I was doing.
They then left me inside a room opposite this man and I was shielded by a curtain.
The ambulance driver continued to mock me to the nurses behind the curtain in the corridor. He tested the Lord God by telling the nurses ‘if he is with the Lord, then he will get up and walk.’ Immediately it was known to me the restraints were no longer tied, they did not relax the restraints in the hospital. I can only assume they had not been correctly tied by the ambulance driver that day. They must have come loose as the nurses were doing vital checks outside in the corridor.
I got up and they heard me get up and I went to the fixed bed beside me and lay down. They jumped at me and moved to restrain me again as I was lying down on the other bed. They were about to force inject me with a sleeping drug and I pleaded with them to give me a tablet instead. I took the tablet as there was no other choice. I fell asleep.
It was then the evening I woke in a strange entrance to a place I had not been before. There were many people moving around and I did not know anyone there. It was as though everyone was speaking in a foreign language I did not know, they could perhaps have been speaking Spanish, but I did not know this at the time. I was alone and afraid. I was hungry. I was cold.
I was under the influence of what I had taken at Summit Pavilion under their care.
There was a woman sat down on a chair who asked my name, I gave her my name. She asked what I was doing there, I told her I was being persecuted for my beliefs.
I asked her for help and she told me to find a nurse to give me access to the phone. I kissed her on her forehead and thanked her for her kind help, the first help I had received all day.
I was told to go to sleep by the nurses after I failed to find my parents through their telephone which did not work. They served food in the evening and every single patient was ravenous with hunger. The small amount of food they served went around 20 people. Not everyone was fed. I needed food, I ate what I thought I should have. I had no more than a small sandwich this entire day. I am sorry Jesus for leaving Your People hungry and taking what was not mine to eat. Please forgive me.
They laid out on the small area of the reception floor blue plastic cushions for people to sleep on. I did not understand what was happening, I was still under the influence of what they had given me against my will in Summit Pavilion.
The next time I woke I was escorted through a dark corridor, it was before dawn, into a ward of this hospital. I was greeted by nice people in the ward in the morning and someone of Chinese faith who shared my room with me. Even the nurses were very nice to me but I began to see what was happening in these places.
What I witnessed in this hospital was shocking. It was symptomatic of all these hospitals. They are wrong.
In March 2017 Our Lord spoke to me again. I was praying before a Crucifix in the room my grandmother suffered for months after her stroke a number of years before she left to Him.
I was told by Our Lord on that night that I was called to be another disciple. He asked me to take a pen and paper and told me to write those letters of that word down on a piece of paper. I was overjoyed to hear Him speak His Truth to me. Anyone would be.
My parents were told when they were in Riga with a family friend, Malcolm. They scorned me for ruining their holiday.
Our Lord asked me to see a Parish Priest. I asked three Priests who I knew in the Diocese of Shrewsbury that day and the kind Priest of Holy Angels in Hale Barns at the time wrote back to me. He told me no more than to pray to Our Lord for His Truth. I replied with a glib statement about the Mass I last went to where he presided. It was wrong of me to do this. I am sorry Our Lord for doing this.
Our Lord has forgiven me of what I did wrong this week. He was with me then and He was teaching me to be in His Truth.
I went to Confession three times when I went to St Hughes in the weeks leading to this. I was given instruction by Our Lord in the last confession I made to this Priest to write down all the sins He asked me to confess before Our Lord. I prayed for His Spirit to come upon me and He did. I prayed for His Truth and He gave it to me.
This was the last time I received the Rite of Confession from His Priests. He has told me since this last Confession before a Priest to confess all my sins to Him directly. He speaks to me and forgives me when I confess my sins.
I have been blamed for many sins in my life, many of which were not true. There are many things I have done wrong, and Our Lord has forgiven me of what I have done. When I sin, Our Lord tells me what I have done and I tell Him I want forgiveness. I tell Him I am sorry. He forgives me when I do this.
I was warned by Our Lord Jesus Christ on the Sunday before I was sectioned for a second time that my parents would incarcerate me again by the end of the week. They did exactly this. I told them this on that Sunday, scared and afraid of what was to come, knowing that many months of forced treatment were about to begin. Our Lord told me of all of this, to the detail that I would be force treated and observed until the end of 2018.
I cried in front of my mother and father and pleaded with them to believe that Our Lord was speaking to me. They refused to believe me and began to make the case for my incarceration.
I asked them to pray to Our Lady in The Holy Rosary. They refused to do so, and I did not know if they did do or didn’t. I asked them to pray The Rosary because they are Roman Catholic too. It is what one does.
On the Wednesday evening before my incarceration there was a Mass said in the Salford Diocese. It was a Healing Mass which my parents told me to go to. I wanted to go but then was given want not to go and instead study 1 Corinthians 13. I was told by my parents I knew not what love is because I would not go to this Mass with them. They told me I didn’t love them. I asked Our Lord to help me know His Truth. He spoke to me this day too. He told me not to pray for healing. I was not ill.
I was speaking to Our Lord and was told by Him to be peaceful. I failed to be peaceful this week. I am sorry for doing this to You, Jesus. Please forgive me.
There was a woman I wanted, and I went to try and see her the following day. She had already told me to stay away but she is the woman I wanted to marry. She is the love of my life. I sat in a coffee shop in David Lloyd Cheadle Royal waiting for her to arrive and drank tea. I listened to His Word through my phone and was being taught Acts of the Apostles by Our Lord Jesus Christ.
He gave me much happiness this day too, but I was doing something very foolish in waiting for this woman to be with me, it was known to me then it would not be right now I would see her.
He told me after I had finished listening to His Word, after I had finished the gifts He had given me to drink to find food in the city centre. I drove the route He showed me and stopped when I wanted to at the restaurant serving food I have been known to enjoy.
I sat and received stamps from this restaurant which children nearby were collecting. I smiled at them and He gave me want to give them what I had collected myself from this meal.
I drove back home believing I had been very sinful this day. This was the last time I used my car, my driving licence was about to be taken from me.
I wrote a diary in that week which I no longer have a copy of. I said in this diary that I was being tempted by satan. This was wrong to say this about the Lord Our God. I am sorry for doing this to You, Our Lord.
My parents escorted me that evening, with my reluctance, to a late-night emergency room where I asked for a room to pray in. They let me into this room and Our Lord spoke to me His Truth. He said to me these beautiful words:
“This is not for you to do this.
Go back home.”
I was already committed to do what was about to happen. The doctor was ready to see me. I sat in the clinic with the doctor and showed him what I had brought with me, the diary I had written. He said no more than I was mentally ill.
I told him this was not true.
I told him Our Lord Jesus Christ was speaking to me.
He arranged for the mental health teams to take me into their care on the Saturday following this meeting. This was not what I agreed to, it was forced on me.
As I drove home my eyes were streaming with tears. I felt everything in my life had collapsed just as it did before. My Lord spoke to me once more and told me He was my friend. He made it known to me that this was to be. My tears stopped as soon as He spoke and I began to receive understanding of events about to unfold.
The following day, Friday, He gave me beautiful gifts. He took me on the tram into Exchange Square and asked me to give £10 to someone who was homeless sat by a rubbish bin. He then asked me to go to the cinema and to buy a ticket to see Beauty and the Beast which had just aired at the time. He spoke to me all day and filled my day with joy.
There was a meaning to what He gave to me that day, it is written about in my diary in January 2019. These gifts are still to be, and Our Lord is giving me courage as I continue to be persecuted in His Holy Name.
I witnessed a man on the other side of the cinema complex who I was told to give not just £10 to as well, but I was given words to say to him from Our Lord. This man approached me later in the day to thank Our Lord for what He had given him. The man shared a hostel room with someone else also homeless that evening thanks to other kind people on the street. It is wrong to say people must not beg when they have nothing. It is wrong to believe, as they did the following day in the mental health assessment, that someone earning £475 a day in his job like myself should not be giving £20 away to those who are suffering in poverty.
I was told to sit and talk to a Muslim man who enjoyed music with me from a street musician. He listened to what I said and we had a nice conversation about His gifts.
I was then told to see his family, an old father with his wife and many children, one of which was the man I had been speaking to. I knew at this time Our Lord was showing me that I too would one day have these gifts. Our Lord told me to make the Sign of the Cross and make my way home.
I met a young woman on the tram platform and we shared a nice conversation about her work and where I was working too. She was a software engineer, and was working for a startup. Our Lord had told me to speak to this woman. This was not the woman I would know, but He showed me how I will meet my future wife through Him.
I then took a taxi back home where my parents became angry towards me again. I told my father I needed his help to pay for the taxi and he did not do more than get angry.
That evening I went to wash and I played music of the Church while in the bathroom. I was being given Peace from Our Lord.
I was woken by Our Lord in a dark silent room in the evening about 9:30pm. Nothing in my room was playing music. There was not a sound in the house except for the rustle of my father listening at the door.
I was told by Jesus to turn over to my ear which is not deaf and to listen to what was happening. It was at this moment He told me that He was in my room. There was no noise other than my father rustling at the door.
Our Lord told me to open my phone, He told me my father was being deceiptful. It was then 2 minutes before I did so. He told me that my father had sent a message to my mother. I did not comprehend what was happening.
My father had sent the following message to me, intending to send it to my mother. In the months afterwards he claims he was confused, that he made a mistake. However this happened again several times that he claimed confusion after giving witness statements that I had been up all night to the mental health system before being incarcerated the following day, which to this day these statements have not been revoked.
This screenshot of this iMessage history was taken on the 7th April 2017. I was told by Our Lord Jesus Christ to take this screenshot. He knew then I would need to use this as evidence today.
I was then told to go downstairs to confront my father. He did not do anymore than shout at me. He mocked me.
He made me grow angry. I shouted at him. I told him as he played the piano ignoring my pleas for him to stop what he was doing that he would burn in hell.
This was wrong of me to do this, I am sorry to Our Lord and to my father for saying those words this night to him.
My father then went to bed, and Our Lord spoke to me all night preparing me with His Truth for what was to come.
They did no more than slander me the next day in front of the mental health practitioners.
My mother and father sat down on their chairs when they arrived. There was a male and female mental health worker. I gave them words I was told to write by Our Lord Jesus Christ, an account of the gifts I was given the previous day in central manchester.
I asked them to read what was written and they refused saying it had no importance.
I asked them again and my father told me that they did not want to read it.
I asked a third time, shaking knowing what was at stake. They began to read what was written as they questioned me.
They ignored the meaning of what was written.
They said I was angry. They said I was agitated. This is true.
Anger for repeated abuse after everything that had been done to me by my parents is not a crime. It is not a mental illness. I went no where near those people or my parents. I was sat on the other side of the room.
There was no fear they had in nodding to my mother, causing her to break down in tears. They had planned my incarceration and had given their sentence at this moment.
I then was told by God to take my stereo outside into the garden from where I listened to music given to me by Our Lord Jesus Christ in the days leading up to this. I played it out loud and stayed sat down peacefully listening to Our Lord’s words in the garden too.
He showed me a clock behind me on the summer house which did not have the correct time. He told me to know the hour later in the day when my freedom would be taken from me. The hour it would happen would be 3 O’ Clock. The hour of His Mercy.
Many hours did I wait in the garden waiting for the police and mental health practitioners to return.
They returned with many people. There were 4 health workers and 2 police officers inside the front room. I was asked to go inside by Our Lord, I went inside and sat down peacefully. I greeted them warmly and smiled.
I was told by the lead mental health worker to listen to what she had to say. She told me that I could voluntarily go into hospital and they would observe me for a couple of days.
I accepted, because Our Lord told me to.
He told me to agree to their terms.
The lead mental health worker went into the kitchen and whispered quietly with my parents. The door was closed. I could hear only whispers.
I turned to the police officers who were in the dining room behind me and spoke what I knew was true. I told them of a suspicious charity which was revealed to me in His Spirit as sinful a week prior. This charity is indeed sinful. I asked them to investigate, they did nothing of the kind. This so-called charity still exists today, they are committing crimes and I have seen this in their annual accounts over this last several years. Our Lord Jesus Christ told me to look there in January 2019, and I saw what was true. He proved this to me.
The Police officers took no notes of what I told them. They humoured me. It was visible to them I was happy and content. They saw no anger, no slurred speech, nothing but religious persecution from the mental health workers were they about to witness.
The woman who was about to sign papers returned into the room. She questioned why I had accepted voluntary admission, I had not yet told her Our Lord had told me to do this.
I replied to her what is true. I said to her: ‘Our Lord has told me to go hospital voluntarily. I obey Him. As anyone should.’ These were the words I used that day. What was to happen next was startling.
It is not surprising a servant of God, receiving God’s Truth in His Word would obey what He hears. It is known by everyone Our Lord is Our Lord Jesus Christ. He is good.
At the moment I said those words to her, her face grew long. She spoke to me and told me that she could no longer let me go voluntarily to hospital for a couple of days, but instead must commit me under a two month section with forced treatment. I asked her why this was and she replied to me, there was nothing more I could do at this point. She told me that I was listening to the Lord God, He was commanding me, I had no free will. This was not true. It was plainly not true. It was an injustice. She was saying what is farcical. It is clearly persecution of Our Lord Jesus Christ. This is a crime.
How can someone in their right mind not understand what I told her? I told her through my own volition I was obeying the Lord God. What if I told her I would obey my parents? Is that not free will too?
She wanted to commit me and treat me. This was her intention.
She found an excuse to do so.
This is what she did.
Everyone there that day sinned against Our Lord by allowing this to happen.
I went peacefully without belongings except for my Bible to the ambulance waiting outside and I spoke His Word to the ambulance drivers from The Holy Bible. I asked the nurse sat with me in the ambulance repeatedly to question why they were taking me to hospital when they could see there was a crime being committed by themselves. Not a single person in the NHS brought justice to me.
What happened next in hospital was incredible. Our Lord was with me throughout my suffering.
After 3 weeks in incarceration for something which was not true, I pleaded with my mother and father, my father being my Nearest Relative under the Mental Health Act, to discharge their right under the Mental Health Act to release me. I had already suffered abuse in one NHS hospital in Bolton. I had visible bruises on my arms from their restraining of me one day. I walked gently forward past a nurse who wanted to blockade the corridor to prevent me leaving my room, they used excessive force. My parents wrote a letter to the doctors and asked me to be discharged. The doctor, Dr Maniyath, raised concerns because she wanted to keep me there, but they gave in and allowed for this release.
They did not however release me from forced treatment at all. They committed a crime under their own laws. They were supposed to release me from a section.
They forced me into the care of another of their teams, the Home Based Treatment Team. I did not know even that this was compulsory. It should not have been according to the Mental Health Act.
I was told by Our Lord Jesus Christ to write what was titled a Framework for Care. In this letter to my parents and the Home Based Treatment Team I gave simple requests to my parents and to the teams. I asked the teams to refer me to the psychological therapy of the Priory in Cheadle where I had had a nice encounter the week prior, the second of three hospitals I visited in the first section.
They were generally nice people there and I wrote to them and thanked the kitchen manager for the work he and his team did for me and the other patients. He was a wonderful care worker who truly looked after people he was caring for.
There were others in the Priory who sinned too. This will be spoken of elsewhere.
The psychological therapy they provided was not what I wanted. I wanted to bring home their leaflets to help my parents.
I made this clear to everyone I spoke to.
I phoned the GP and they wouldn’t refer me. I phoned the Priory and they wouldn’t let me self-refer. There was nothing I could do about this. It was not possible to do what I wanted to do for my parents. To go to the other of the Priory’s clinics in Hale would have costed thousands in private fees, and I could not afford to do this unless I worked. I was told not to do this by Our Lord.
Also in the Framework for Care was a request to my parents to leave me a room downstairs where I could freely pray and sleep without being disturbed as I was the previous month by my father.
They vehemently denied this request and both the Home Based Treatment Team and my parents accused me of suffering delusions trying to request something which is plainly and obviously a request for peace. There was an argument in front of the Home Based Treatment Team and my parents grew very angry. I did not raise my voice at all. I waited patiently for all of them to calm down and listen again to what were simple requests for peace.
This should have been taken at face value. Instead they have written about it in my medical notes as a sign of mental illness, and they used it as evidence against me in further sections they were about to perform.
My parents started to say from this that they regretted releasing me from hospital. They began their quest to put me back there. A few days later they did.
That Saturday morning I went to Confession with my Parish Priest. I was told by Our Lord not to stay in the confessional but to speak to the Priest instead. I was told to give Him words from Him. I was very nervous and the Priest saw this. I was shaking with fear of being incarcerated again.
I told the Priest what had happened and he offered me an appointment the following Tuesday morning to visit him and talk further. I asked him to keep this confidential, but also to speak with my parents as they would need the Peace of Our Lord in my Parish Priest’s ministry in the coming weeks and months.
This was to be made known to my parents what I told the Parish Priest.
This Parish Priest should not have done this, it was spoken of in confidence. I forgive him of what he did that day, it was to be so. He needs to speak to Our Lord and ask for His Truth about what went on in those days.
I was told to go to find some coffee at a shop next to St Josephs in Sale. I spoke to the woman in the shop about the Parish Priest I had seen and Our Lord gave me words to say to them. I spoke to them about my incarceration. I told them I was His disciple. These things were said and they were true. I was looking for a photo frame for my mother, to place a photo of my late grandmother in.
I was then told by Our Lord Jesus Christ to take photos from the next road down of the Church Spire of St Joseph’s. I took these, as Our Lord told me to, to the Priest again. He looked at them and knew not what they meant. I told him the words I was told to say to the Priest, that there was a man who lived in these houses who needed his help. The Priest knew not what was meant, nor did I. I have been told today what this meant. I was this man. The Parish of St Josephs and Holy Family is the Parish this Priest is serving. I needed His Love. I needed His Comfort. I needed His help.
I was told by Jesus to go to the front of the Parish and wait for the man who needed help. I kneeled in front of the image of His Sacred Heart and asked for help.
He then told me to move to the back of the Church and wait for someone to enter. I was expecting to see a man enter the Church but no one came through the door I had expected to see. I was told there was a man waiting for help that day, and no one helped him. This man, I now know, was me.
I was then told by Jesus to walk towards Washway Road via Chapel Road. He showed me where this clinic was which I would have visited once in the previous 5 years. I went to Sale Library first because I was asked to do so by Jesus as I left the Church.
He told me to ask them if they had a religious education section. The librarians told me they had been told to remove it by the council. This is wrong. It is the case that not even a single Bible was in this library, when there are many sinful books which even children could pick up and read.
He then walked me to a local pub on Washway Road called the Volunteer. I sat down after asking for a menu. The lady behind the bar served me the gifts I was given this lunch time by Our Lord Jesus Christ, chicken nuggets and chips. I prayed to Our Lord and thanked Him for this great gift this day.
I was then told to thank the lady behind the bar and was taken to Dane Road after visiting a bike shop. The man in the shop and I spoke of the incarceration I received and I told him I would one day send him a book. This book will be received by this man one day.
There was a fold up electric bike there I wanted and I asked the man how much it would be. It was too expensive for me to buy. I wished him God’s Blessing, as I was asked to do by Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. He told me words I can no longer remember about how the Lord was with him in his life.
God took my feet to the newsagents before Dane Road and I used my remaining money to buy a small pack of cigarettes. This was all I had after the previous incarceration by the NHS.
I called my father and asked him to pick me up in his car. He sounded agitated and nervous about my sanity having arrived just a few roads away at Dane Road from where I was going, to St Joseph’s Parish. This day was a peaceful day until the Home Based Treatment Team arrived that afternoon.
The next day, Sunday, I was warned of what was about to happen again. I was told by Our Lord Jesus Christ to wipe my computer of everything I was about to do. I did not have time to do this before I left the house in an armoured police car on Tuesday.
I was told to book a flight which I paid for on my credit card with Opodo. They honoured the booking. I had not been told not to travel by anyone in the medical profession, by the state or by the police. I had not been told I was under any limitation of my human right under European Law to leave this country.
I booked a flight to New York.
The following day I made phone calls to try and refer myself to the Priory to receive the psychology leaflets I wanted to give to my parents. I booked an appointment with my GP, Dr Jarvis. He told me in the telephone appointment I had with him that no one could restrict my travel plans, I was free to leave, I was not under section, I had no obligation to remain in the UK. He wished me well on my travels. He told me he heard no sign of mental illness and I asked him to write to the Home Based Treatment Team to formally discharge me. He said he would do this, but it became apparent that he has not done.
I reminded him of what he told me when I first saw him again in 2012, the first appointment I had with the NHS. At the time he warned me of my father. He told me he was an overbearing father and to be careful of him. At that time he told me not to worry, things would work out.
I thanked him for the appointment and for his help and told him my parents would need help from the surgery in the coming weeks and months when they suffer the stress and anxiety that was to come to them from what they were doing, and the departure of their son from the family home. This was not my doing, it was theirs. Pray to the Lord God to take away your anxiety, He will speak His Truth when you ask Him.
This day I was told by Our Lord to print many emails which were to be used in evidence against the NHS of what they had done to me. I had prepared them into folders with different titles relating to who I was at different time periods of my life, there was in those emails clear proof that I was a high-functioning person professionally and was not in need of their care.
The Home Based Treatment Team arrived uninvited, a man and a woman. They did not fully introduce themselves. They did not tell me they were doing a mental health assessment. This is what they seemed to be doing from my medical notes. One of these people was a psychiatrist, there was no reason for him to be there.
They were asked by me to read what was written.
The woman took one of the files and flicked the pages and closed it 2 seconds later.
She read nothing of what I had prepared. She had no interest in reading about me.
They took action against me this day because I was preparing a case against the NHS. They labelled this mental illness.
People in the NHS don’t really know me. I often talk quickly, sometimes I talk slowly. When one is passionate about something, one talks a bit faster. They used this as evidence of a mental illness, again.
This was wrong of them to do this. They have slandered me in my medical files to every doctor since.
That evening I wrote a letter which was never sent to my Parish Priest because I was told by Jesus not to send it after what was about to happen.
I was told by Our Lord to be strong and to reveal to my parents that I was about to leave to New York to start seminary. In truth I had not fully arranged the details at this point. I intended to stay in the retreat centre there for 2 weeks and to find work on a H-1B visa I knew I would be able to find with my CV. I was escaping this oppression of the British Government and I did not have intention to return, however a return flight was intended to be booked. I would have had to return to Europe in any event in order to apply for an extended visa with the US Consulate. I had been given right to leave by my GP, it is in any case a basic human right, protected by the European Court to be able to leave the country and travel. I ended up not even leaving the house after what my parents said to the mental health teams.
I went to bed, peacefully and thought I was safe. I told my parents that I needed to go, that there was no more they could do to stop me. This was my calling, I told them, and I needed to do this.
I slept from 10:30pm onwards into the early morning.
I woke at 4:30am to go to the bathroom. I saw all the lights on in the house and wondered what was wrong. My parents door was open, they were not asleep. I went downstairs calmly and saw my mother crying and sitting down worried.
My father was angry and was preparing something in the kitchen.
They had both been awake all night they told me, from what I saw I had no reason to doubt this.
They told the mental health teams later this day that I had been awake all night.
This was not true. It was a lie. They knew it was a lie when they said it.
I proceeded to talk with my parents and calm them down until dawn. I pleaded with them to make peace with Our Lord, I asked them to sleep, even if they didn’t want to go to bed. They refused. They were angry.
The following morning, it was Tuesday, I went to the Parish Priest again. I was told by Our Lord to tell my mother to park just outside the Church and to invite my mother into a meeting with the Priest. The Priest questioned why this was as he did not understand why I booked this appointment.
The Priest spoke to my mother and told her he thought I was mentally ill.
This was wrong.
I left after this happened, as Our Lord had asked me to, and walked to the store close to St Josephs to have a coffee. There I was greeted by the shopkeeper’s daughter who knew of what happened a couple of days prior in her mother’s shop. I was looking at photo frames again and decided to buy the one I was told to buy by Our Lord.
I phoned my father before entering the shop to warn him that he might need to collect my mother, she was in tears.
After I went outside my mother found me where I was and she took me in her car.
When we arrived home we started to talk more.
From here my father interjected angrily whenever I and my mother began peacefully talking and I asked my mother to pray to Him.
He stood in the kitchen at the doorway and I turned to him and asked him if he could wait elsewhere.
My mother told him to leave the kitchen and go outside. He then did exactly that.
He was not instructed by me to walk out into the garden and sit there for several hours, nor did I want him to be sitting in the garden doing nothing. He waited in the garden and claimed it was cold. It was April, the sun was not shining but it was temperate. There is a summer house he could have stayed in if he wanted to. He could also have easily gone into the family room on the other side of the house and played his piano. This is what he would have normally done to leave a conversation he was not invited to take part in. He did nothing but belligerent actions just to prove a point. There was nothing stopping him from entering the house either. He was not cold, he was not hungry, he was not banished from the house by me or my mother.
I talked with my mother in detail and pleaded with her to stop what they were doing. At times she started to be peaceful, then she sat and let her anxiety and thoughts overtake her and she became angry.
Eventually she told me she would do no more for me.
She did not believe me.
By around midday I was told by Our Lord to find my father, it was strange that he was still outside sitting peacefully on a garden chair. What I learnt from the medical notes about this day is that he told them I physically threw him out of the house, that I had been violent towards him. This is entirely untrue. He had no bruises because I did not touch him. He was lying. They did no more than take his word to be true. There was no evidence for what he said, there was no basis in truth for what he told the mental health teams. It was a lie.
They told my father to inform the Police if I attempted to leave the house to the airport. They said to him that they will section me if I attempt to board a plane under section 136 of the Mental Health Act. This is what is written in my medical notes. I have not been given access to them by the NHS anymore, but I did have access to them during this incarceration.
I took a muesli bar out to my father, as I was given instruction to do so by Our Lord. He saw me outside and immediately rejected the food and asked me if he was allowed back inside. I told him I had not expelled him from his own home. I did not block the door, he implied to me that day that I was doing this. This is not true.
What was fabricated this day by my parents was no more than to limit my freedoms. I told them I was leaving to New York, they were angered by this and lied to the NHS.
This was wrong.
I was invited to the table at lunch time at about 1pm to eat food with my parents. I very much enjoyed their company in this meal. They made food which I enjoy, pizza, they knew to make this for me that lunch time. I should have seen through their actions but I did not. I was happy they had calmed down. Looking back, they were clearly quite guilty about what was about to happen. I could see that in their expressions on that day.
Then gifts had arrived for my parents which I was told to buy from Our Lord Jesus Christ. My father signed for these gifts and there is a time stamp on the signature I received by email. It clearly says Mark in the signature, my father signed for this package. The time was 2:34pm on the delivery receipt. My father was in the house at this time.
I showed them the gifts Our Lord had given them. I asked them to venerate Our Lady by placing the image of Her Immaculate Heart in their living room, to place His Crucifix on the mantelpiece. I then went outside for a cigarette.
When I returned inside and talked to them about the Crucifix I had been told to buy them, the house was filled with police officers and mental health workers.
I knew it was time to phone for a lawyer.
I said not one word to the mental health practitioners other than to ask them for legal assistance from any lawyer I could find before they conducted a mental health assessment. I scrambled searching for anyone who could help me at short notice. Clearly this is impossible without the help of those teams who were taking me away at a moment’s notice.
They began scribbling in their notes already, without asking a single question to me about me. They told me they were conducting a mental health assessment, but I remained silent. This is not just or fair.
They went into the kitchen and whispered again to my parents. My parents signed a form.
No one came to help me. No one asked me any questions about me.
Our Lord eventually told me when they grew impatient waiting for a solicitor after 30 minutes to quietly resign to what they wanted and walk outside again into their armoured vehicle. They had already brought this with them knowing what already the outcome of their mental health act assessment they were supposed to perform. It was clearly in violation of even the Mental Health Act.
I was treated like a criminal with no legal justice. Even a criminal is allowed a lawyer.
They took me back to Moorside Unit where I was incarcerated under a fresh Section 2 for at least 2 months. I was there in this period in hospital from the beginning of April to the end of June with no leave at all for 2 months.
They never let me go after this. I am still on their books this very day. They never let anyone leave their system. It is unsafe for me to return to the United Kingdom as a result.
I witnessed many injustices in Moorside Unit, many violations of basic human rights. They did not respect me or other patients.
They routinely take people who are on two-month Section 2’s and convert them with no real reason to a six-month Section 3. This is what they did with me, it is what they do with most of the patients under Dr Maniyath’s team. I saw this. Those voluntary patients who tried to leave were sectioned. It is known by the patients that they do this. It is systematic injustice.
Early during my time in the Moorside Unit I expressed several times to the nurses and the doctors that I had been ‘undiagnosed’ by a doctor named Dr Zehry. He released me in April 2015 from the Early Intervention Service. It was in any case coming up to the end of my forced treatment with them. This is the medical file I have from that meeting:
It should be noted that this doctor officially stated in the meeting where the doctor, I and Dr Rory Allot were present that I showed no signs of a mental illness. He acknowledged the words given to the service by Dr Thomasini in March 2012 and did not question the diagnosis that doctor had given outside of the UK. This is what has happened over 7 years. That original diagnosis has never been truly questioned by the medical profession.
In my sixth incarceration in March 2019 I have asked the nurses to ask Dr Rory Alott who is onsite in an interview with a patient today. I have asked Joe to witness this statement and asked him to help me get myself free.
I then showed this to Dr Rory Alott himself on 22nd March 2019 as I was incarcerated again by the NHS. And he did not deny it was an undiagnosis. He shook my hand and I made him know that it was from this note he needs to tell people there is something wrong. Yes, Rory, please do help people here by actually sitting down and talking. As I left he apologised to me, for me being here still 7 years on.
It remains to be seen whether anyone here in the NHS will listen to what is true.
I made two visits to my GP in Scarsdale Medical Centre in the weeks prior to my incarceration in October. On both occasions I spoke the truth and gave them words which Our Lord told me to say. On the second occasion the GP wanted to go to a trained mental health doctor in the practice and ask to get a mental health assessment. I told him no more than I was called by Our Lord and that He was speaking to me. He believed from this I was mentally ill. This is religious persecution.
My sister and brother-in-law, both doctors not trained in mental health, both visited for a weekend and I hosted them in my then apartment. I cooked for them a roast dinner from Waitrose on the day they left. I was told by Our Lord to tell them the truth, that Our Lord had continuously spoken to me since March 2017 and was telling me then to help homeless people on the streets of London.
I warned them not to tell my parents as they would be wanting to incarcerate me again. My sister failed to act on my instructions and she went behind my back and told my parents I was mentally ill.
I then later in the week confronted my father on the phone and told them what was true. He knew from me first, I thought, but he told me he had already been informed that I was mentally ill. My parents then proceeded to make the assertion that I was not on the medication they had asked me to take which was not mandatory. It was true that I had stopped taking my medication by the beginning of September. There is no reason to take medication when one is not ill.
After I left my job in the Daily Mail through instruction of Our Lord Jesus Christ. He told me there was no more for me to do there. I applied for another job and was turned down as Our Lord told me I would be, I didn’t have the necessary skills in an area of software I did not fully know at the time. I was told to be truthful and then polite to them when they turned me down. I told my parents I would return home for a few days to speak with them and try and calm them down, to stop them harassing me about their belief I was mentally ill. They had been harassing me on this occasion for over a week beforehand and would not stop. I had calmed them down prior to this by remaining silent at home over the summer.
When I arrived in Manchester and during my visit there I was very peaceful, praying in front of them and telling them to pray too. I was told by Our Lord to say some things to my family which were very peaceful. They got very frustrated that I refused to listen to their claims of mental illness. I remained calm when they did this. On the Saturday when my sister and brother-in-law were in Manchester and giving my parents their personal opinion in front of me, after they had gone, my parents got very wound up. I asked them if they would like me to leave Manchester and return to London. After three questions of this kind and a lot of angry words from them they eventually told me I had to go. My mother was at first reluctant to say this, my father was insisting I should go from before I asked this question. I was still welcome by my mother until she said to me on the third question I asked her.
I picked up my bag Our Lord had asked me to prepare for this that morning and made my way to the train station. The journey took about an hour. I left the tram at Deansgate Station and was taken by Our Lord Jesus Christ to sit down and drink what I wanted, a soft drink from a local bar. He then told me to phone my parents on the way on FaceTime, I told them I did not know where I was. It was very clear to me then that I was mocking them for not believing that Our Lord was with me, I didn’t actually laugh at them on the phone. They believed I was lost and offered to come and find me when I was two blocks from Piccadilly Train Station. When I arrived in Piccadilly I bought milk and chocolate. This was because I was told to do so by Our Lord, I showed the gifts I had been given to my parents again on FaceTime at Piccadilly Station as I smoked a cigarette and told them how foolish they were being. It was very clear I was on the shortest route from Deansgate to Manchester Piccadilly. There is only a very small detour through an area I sat down to phone my parents, a place I would later be taken to by Our Lord to help one of His Servants with temporary accommodation the following year. It was exactly that road I phoned them from and told them I did not know where I was at first. It is the road next to Vita Student, which I also visited as I was asked to by Our Lord Jesus Christ to see if they could rent me a room for a couple of hours to have a shower, as I had not had one that day. This is the map of my journey that day.
They later in the incarceration of this month gave evidence to the Police and the mental health teams that I got lost in Manchester. This is clearly not the case. They had evidence themselves to the contrary, they saw place names and very visible landmarks that they could easily see I was on the right road. These roads were not known to me at that time, I had not been into central Manchester very often at all in my life.
It is plain for everyone reading this that I could easily have used any map provider on my smartphone to find my way to Piccadilly Station. I was told not to do this by Our Lord Jesus Christ and it was to prove a point. It is clearly not the shortest straight line route, but it is the shortest path that I took. An expression my father, a mathematician, would comprehend as I told him when I arrived at Piccadilly Station. There were places I visited on this route which I was to see later the following year when I was shown them again by Our God.
That evening I was taken by Our Lord Jesus Christ to the street outside the emergency room of Westminster and Chelsea Hospital. I went inside and wondered why He had brought me there already. I sat at the front of the room by the window listening to what I was told to do next. He gave me increasing desire to witness a miracle He had told me about in my diary might happen, that my left deaf ear might be healed. This was not to be, not a single medical practitioner has wanted to know I am being spoken to by Our Lord. They all just want to say I am mentally ill, it is more convenient for them to do so.
I went to the reception and told them I was being harassed by my parents, these were the words I said to her, I told her I was being accused of mental illness by my parents but it was in fact religious persecution.
The woman treated this as a priority case with a full waiting room.
I was seen by a triage nurse who took details. I asked him to take no details at all, I was there for a hearing test. I asked them to phone my parents too, they refused to do so as it was late. They told me I could phone them later once I had been seen by a doctor.
After spending some time talking with another triage nurse specialised in mental health I was shown a notice board on the wall of the emergency room by Our Lord and He showed me a diagram depicting the various stages of admission and treatment for mental illness. I was not represented even to the beginning of this diagram.
I told the triage nurse this and told her I was going to leave. She had not actioned my request. I told her I did not want to be locked in a cage and refused to have a mental health assessment.
They then proceeded to barricade me into the emergency room behind locked doors I tried to open, touching my person to try and restrain me from leaving. I told them not to touch me and they did not touch me. They would not move and I could not exit the door because I knew it would require me to push them out of the way. I grew angry at being locked in a cage. I had not received a mental health assessment, I had told them what was true, and I was treated like a criminal.
I walked around the nursing station several times to avoid any of the nurses going near me. I was told to do this. While I did so I was told to pray His Prayer of Divine Mercy out loud by Our Lord Jesus Christ. I began to stumble when I grew angry at what they were doing. I was told to say sorry for getting angry by Our Lord Jesus Christ.
There were police officers there and they did nothing to stop me moving around the ward. They stayed by the bed side of a patient they had in their custody.
At one point I tried to enter a lift and went to another floor where I wanted to find another route out of the hospital. I could not open any doors and they escorted me back downstairs. There was a nurse who told me it was a pleasure to meet me, from the emergency room. He made out as though he knew this was wrong. I went back with him to the emergency room and walked around the nursing station again.
At some point they phoned my parents and one of the nurses put the phone to my ear. My parents were confused as to why I was there. I told them no more than they had barricaded me in for speaking what was true. I left the phone with the nurse so that they could speak together, it was for the nurse to hear this persecution herself.
Soon after this I found a route out of the hospital when they were distracted. Our Lord told me to leave that very moment and press the green button on the door to unlock the door they had barricaded before. I walked calmly away from the hospital down the road.
I caused harm to no one. I laid a finger on no one. I prayed out loud in an emergency room. This was not a crime. This was not my disobedience to the law, it was theirs.
I was told to walk several kilometres around Chelsea and Kensington until the early hours of the morning as I was told people would be searching for me. I did not know where I was, Our Lord was showing me the way around the back streets of London. He kept me away from main roads. I met a Muslim man that night and talked about his desire to have a woman in his life. Our Lord had words to say to him, He gave him His Peace. We met each other several times on the streets of Chelsea that evening in between Our Lord sending me to shops to buy drink and cigarettes for myself.
There were several people this night who witnessed that I was mentally well.
After dawn Our Lord Jesus Christ told me to go back home to bed. He showed me the way back home. It was not a way I knew through one of the universities. I rested for the rest of the day. I woke to sounds of knocking and heard my mothers voice calling my name. She tells me she was not in the corridor of the building knocking on the door. It was my mothers voice. I was awake. Our Lord was warning me, He told me so.
My parents arrived that afternoon in London at the Tara Copthorne Hotel just a short walk to the end of my street. I asked them for food and they declined to provide me anything to eat in their hotel. I was told after this to buy my own sandwich there, the gifts I was given by Our Lord Jesus Christ and sat on my front steps of my apartment building eating and drinking what I had been given.
I then went back to the hotel and spent the afternoon with my parents.
I had given them a gift of Honey Oat Muesli, Dorset Cereals which my mother likes. I like it too but I was told not to open the pack after my sister had refused to take these gifts for breakfast. It was bought when I went to Waitrose for that visit. I was told to buy it by Our Lord. I then was told to go and buy fresh milk for my mother. This was for her to see this sign again. It was plain for her to see God’s Providence. Milk and honey. This is the same gift I showed to my parents several times, a sugary drink, chocolate and milk, when I arrived at Piccadilly Station.
I knew what I was doing.
The following day I witnessed several times my parents discussing with the Scarsdale Medical Practice information they believed was theirs to give to them. They were slandering me with their false claims of mental illness. I witnessed the doctor in a private meeting with my parents about me, I had given the surgery express warning not to disclose any information to anyone about me. They received this as a letter a few days before and Our Lord told me to deliver to them personally.
There were patients in the waiting room of Scarsdale Medical Centre who seemed to scowl because they were disgusted by this family dispute. There was a young woman in her mid-20s who sympathised with what I had described was happening to me to my father. She spoke to me and told me, knowing my father was listening, that she believed in His Miracles and her sister had witnessed many things she could not explain in her life in any other way. She was a Christian. She knew what I described might be true. She was backing me up. It is not true that everyone in the waiting room heard me praying loudly as my father reported to the mental health teams. This was another of his lies.
My father later described what happened as nonsense, that I was agitated in the waiting room. This was not true. I was speaking with my father, I was not shouting, I had not a raised voice.
When I found the doctor discussing me in front of my parents behind a closed door, I knocked on the door, not banged, and they invited me in. I told her in no uncertain terms to not discuss me with my parents. I told her she had gone against my instructions to the practice. She then kept trying to negotiate with me to sit down. I refused and I told her I was not to be treated by anyone. I asked her 3 times if she understood me, she kept on interrupting me. Each time I said it I grew louder and could have appeared angry to her. This is not a surprise, she did not respond to my question and was acting against my instructions to the practice. She failed to discharge her duty of care in acknowledging my human rights. I was being persecuted for my Roman Catholic faith. They knew already this was what I had claimed and they were acting against my human rights. I believe she broke the law by discussing a personal matter about me with people I had given them no consent to talk about me with.
The doctors in this practice then proceeded, it seems, to raise requests for a section the following day. I believe my parents were involved too with the London Crisis Team.
I was told to write to my parents by Our Lord Jesus Christ. The words He gave me to write were from Him. They were written in His Spirit.
I was told to take a two week Pilgrimage to serve people on the streets with nothing but prayer. I wanted to leave my posessions safely behind, and this is what I’ve done again since.
The following letter is a scan of the letter I left with reception at the Tara Copthorne Hotel on Wrights Lane, Kensington in London at about midnight that evening.
There is nothing sinful in what I wrote this night. I wrote words from Our Lord Jesus Christ. Every word written is for His Church.
It clearly states in this letter that I am taking some time to serve Our God. It says so in quotes, these words were His. Every word was given me to write, but those in quotes are from Him, of Him and with Him. It is His Word.
I was told repeatedly after writing this that I had sent a suicide note. They picked up one phrase from The Church: ‘There is only one way to Heaven. It is through His Son Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.’ This is Church Teaching. It is not a sin to tell someone what is written in His Truth. It is not a crime either.
What is quite criminal in Europe and most countries in this day is to tell someone they are committing a crime, which suicide is, by writing what is plainly true, the Truth from God.
This is not a suicide note.
I was not wanting to commit suicide.
I had no intention to commit suicide.
I would never commit suicide.
There is nothing I have ever said, written or intimated in any way that could be known to be true of me intending to commit suicide.
The statement made by the Tara Copthorne Hotel manager to the Police was not valid as evidence. They read a few words from this, not even one sentence, and intimated their own understanding of what is true. This was not quite sinful, they knew nothing about me. What was sinful was that I left this letter in an envelope, it was not sealed, but it was clear to everyone including what the Police knew as evidenced in the report which follows that the hotel manager nor the receptionist should be reading mail not addressed to them. This was to be delivered to my parents, it was sent to their room in the night. It should never have been read in the first place by anyone but my parents.
I did jokingly say, without realising what this receptionist would do, when I handed her the letter and she agreed to ask the night manager to send it to my parents room that this was my last will, and I added as a joke my testament too after pausing. This was foolish of me given the current climate and danger I was facing at the time, however I should be allowed to make tongue in cheek comments and use the English language as anyone else does. This was not even recorded anywhere and I say it to you now to explain why this woman might have needed to open the letter.
It is certainly the case that it is a testament to what I was about to do. It also speaks in my words, which I was also told to write by Our Lord Jesus Christ, of my last want which I gave to my parents, this was not anything this woman might have understood if she did not know the background to how I was speaking in those days and today. Put simply, will is want. It is known this is true. It is from Our Lord Jesus Christ I know this. This explains why they did not really sin, but it was still quite sinful to take His Word out of context of the entire letter.
After the hotel manager spoke to the Police, the Police did not ask to see the letter. They did not inspect the context of what was said to them. They took their own opinion from here on.
From the Tara Copthorne Hotel I was told by Our Lord to walk to the gates of Hyde Park next to the road where all the embassies are in Kensington.
On the way I was told to buy my last meal using Apple Pay before exhausting the remaining money I had. This was a nice bacon and egg sandwich and a small box of ready salted pringles. I had no thirst, Our Lord did not provide me with thirst as He had shown me He does for me before and has done since then too.
I had one cigarette from a homeless man outside the shop who kindly offered me a cigarette and I made my way to Notting Hill past two guards as I walked past the embassies. I wanted to say good evening to them, but I was not able to, Our Lord stopped me from doing it.
I was told to cross the road right beside those two officers, it was plain for them to see I was happily strolling up to Notting Hill. I was wearing my slippers, it is a valid footwear. There were a few stones on the road on the way on this walk which I was guided around in the dark by Our Lord Jesus Christ. He was with me. He was talking to me. He told me to do everything I did.
The slippers were particularly highlighted in the following Police report by the officer PC Mark and others it seems, however it really is the case that they were predisposed in calling me mentally ill from the initial call they had received, this is evident when you see the order of events at the switchboard. They told each other on the switchboard that they had a possible suicide threat.
As I have said, this was certainly not the case.
Wearing slippers for a stroll up from Kensington to Notting Hill is neither suicidal nor a mental illness. I was aware of what I was doing. I was allowed to do this in law. There was no reason to debate my choice of footwear one evening in a formal complaint I had raised with the Police as evidence further on.
While I have been in Italy this year my father said to me when the Police visited him one night that their Constable had witnessed my footwear again. My father said he had taken note of it in his notebook. I was at home at the time, probably posting a letter just about 50 yards from the family home in Sale Moor. I would have gone to the postbox late in the evening, posted a letter and walked back. What is it about my slippers the Police do not like? Surely I am as an adult able to determine the footwear I want to use. Is it the case that all people around the world, even in for example Johannesburg, even wear footwear? I know this is not true. I was in South Africa in 2006. I was even told not to wear footwear in the Transkei, it is what they do. It is my choice to determine my footwear. It is my free will to choose. They even have mamba’s in the Transkei. Oh yes, and I was never ill.
Silliness this was. What was to come when they detained me was far from games.
I arrived in a road in Notting Hill and I did not know where I was going. I was told by Our Lord of all of the parks He had shown me in London which were locked shut except to their local residents. He told me that they should be open to allow people who are homeless to sleep there. This is what I wanted to do, to live for two weeks with people who are homeless to help them with His Word. The park He then showed me had the gate unlocked, someone had not closed it.
I was with God. He knows where everyone has opened a gate.
This was what I wanted to do. I was given this want by Our Lord Jesus Christ. He was with me. He told me to do everything I was doing.
It was known already that I was taking walks in London, not in my slippers, but with barely anything but my phone. I had Apple Pay. This was the end of 2017. It was written in my diary. I had told my GP’s surgery of what I’d been doing. I had told my sister and brother-in-law. They told my parents. They each told the mental health teams. It was known by many homeless people I was doing this. It was a gift from Our Lord Jesus Christ to me. It is a gift from Him to His People, His Word is being written in everything I am told to do. He even locked my most valuable possessions in a safe in my room when I had certain guests.
This night it was a gift which the Police took from Our God. They took my freedom away from me, my free will to choose to walk across London and serve Our God. In any case, this was going to be. I am doing this here in Italy instead, safely knowing I will not be incarcerated by the draconian legal system of the British people.
I was with Our God, he is good.
I am safe from harm with The Lord God.
This is known.
It is written in the Old Testament.
It is written in the New Testament.
It is written in His Disciples Letters.
It is known by His Church yesterday, today and tomorrow.
All people know this and it cannot be denied.
What the Police did was ignore what I told them. I said to them I was a servant of God. They clearly misheard what I repeatedly said to them. I told them I was a servant of God. This was obviously the case in the report which they witnessed all of the video footage. They have omitted this fact that it would be in the video footage for questionable reasons.
What the Police Officers have written is not fact. It is not true.
It is true I knelt on the floor on instruction of Our Lord Jesus Christ. It is true I prayed out loud when I was told to by Him. I prayed for His Mercy with His Prayer He gave to Saint Faustina Kowalska of Krakow in Poland to share with His Church. The Prayer is for His Mercy in our hour of great suffering.
I knew what was happening. They were to take me in.
I pleaded with the Police to take me to a prison cell overnight instead so I can prove my innocence on the charges they brought against me. They refused to listen to this plea which was made several times. I told them I would be badly treated if they did not do this.
I told them they were acting unlawfully, that the evidence had not been witnessed by them, that they would regret doing what they did. These were words I was told to say to them by Our Lord Jesus Christ.
It is written in this report that they placed me in handcuffs. This happened after I began to remove one of my slippers. I was kneeling on the floor at the time. They lunged at me and inspected both my slippers. They believed I might have been carrying a weapon, I assume. I was told to remove one slipper by Our Saviour Jesus Christ. I don’t remember the handcuffs but it’s likely to be the case.
They knew I was praying. I was peaceful when I was left alone. It is written in their report.
It is written one time in their report that I shouted at the officers. This is not true. It is true I would have spoken with a raised voice when pleading with them for help in proving my innocence for the evidence they stated they did not have. This is all written in the report.
What is not written in the report is that I was sat peacefully in this park before they arrived looking out over a climbing frame children would be using probably the following morning. I was told to look at the trees, and the stars. I was with Him. It is true I would not actually have slept here. These events were to happen as they did. Our Lord Jesus Christ knew this. He knows all.
Know this too, I knew only that I walked to PC Mark Owen and introduced myself as Timothy Behrsin. I told him no more than I was told to say by Our Lord Jesus Christ.
I am His disciple. These sins of the British Government must end. It is now time to reveal this to the people of England.
It is important to discard everything PC Mark Owen and his officers wrote after the event and instead look at what was seen in video footage recorded that night on their cameras. It is an entirely different outcome for this report when doing this.
I know this is true. I was there. I witnessed what happened. There is no video footage of me saying, ever in my life, that I am Our Lord Jesus Christ, the only Son of God. This is nothing I would say. He is Our Lord. I adore Him. I worship Him. I love Him. He is with me, He speaks to me.
There is no video footage of me lying down on the floor at my will. I did not do this. I did not want to do this. This did not happen. They do not have evidence of this. They made this lie themselves that night. It did not happen. There is no video footage of this kind. If this was true it would be very visible when I arrived in the lit hospital that my clothes would be dirty. It was a park, there was gravel and soil. It was not true what they said. All of their statements are inadmissible as evidence as a result.
It might be true that they pushed me to the floor as they inspected my slippers. I would have continued praying. It is not true that I prostrated myself on the park gravel by myself. I cannot remember even being pushed to the floor. I can’t see anyone wanting to do that to me. But knowing what happened that night and the hostility of those I encountered in the Police force, it might have been so.
What is true is the video footage. This cannot be disputed by anyone. I presume they would have turned off the video footage when we arrived at the Hammersmith and Fulham Section 136 cell, though there will be more to see of what I have written is true if it was kept on. There was more that was said by me to them then. I told them they would regret this, I told them they had committed a crime. They mocked me. I smiled at them.
They had persecuted me for my faith as a Roman Catholic servant of God.
When I arrived in the cell I was to spend the rest of the night I went to the secure bathroom and was initially watched by the police officers. They would not even let me urinate, sat down on a toilet without a seat, without a single implement in the room which could cause me harm. There was not even toilet paper because they thought one might clog the toilets, I assume. I told them to leave me alone and close the door. They refused and kept watching me from the corner of the door. They did not enter the room and so I asked them for privacy, to turn away, and they did not even stand around the corner when I pleaded with them so I could do what I needed to do in this very limited bathroom. I was told by Our Lord Jesus Christ not to excrete. He warned me of the lack of anything to use to clean myself with afterwards. This was disgusting treatment by the Police and the NHS. It is clearly wrong.
It is also written in the report from my complaint that again my father had prepared the Police with a false witness statement. This has been known to happen before in each section dating back to 2012. It is clear that this has been happening in each section. It should be clear from the previous witness statements this person’s statements are not admissible as evidence. He claims confusion about simple facts which cannot be refuted. He has told lies which have been used as evidence, against his own knowledge I must say, by the HM Courts and Tribunals Service. He has contorted the truth about what I said to him in familial conversations across the Atlantic from California. This is repeatedly the same story. It should be clear to the Court what has happened.
All these statements that were made need to be discarded as non-factual opinion of individuals at the time of an initial investigation by the first responders to a fictional suicide report. They are third parties who had no knowledge of what was true. There was no complete evaluation of the evidence those parties were speaking of. It is clear all evidence I provided at that time was ignored. I was treated as a criminal with no legal justice. There was zero legal justice. No legal recourse was I allowed to take. The facts are recorded on video by the Police.
If it remains to be seen that it is one party’s word, my own, against many who should be trusted then please ask the Police to release these videos, all 5 of those officers wore cameras as it is written in their report, there is nothing I have hidden. Every word I have said is from Him. They must store these videos, they are evidence. They will have them on file.
I pleaded to go to a prison cell instead of a mental health unit, as it would have been possible for me to uphold my simple right of legal representation before being charged. When you enter a section, they detain you, force drugs on you, and materially damage your body. They deny you of every freedom you have. You are not entitled at this point to any legal representation as other people would have, my life was to be destroyed again by the mental health system of Great Britain. I was about to be grievously assaulted by those who were supposed to care for me.
Section 136 has been abused in many cases. It must be abolished by the British Government today.
What they did was prime the NHS for further harsh treatment against my will. They told them they had responded to a suicide threat. This was painstakingly explained over many hours to the NHS. After it was discovered that they had not found a suicide note but a nice bon voyage note to my parents when I went to serve Our Lord in a Pilgrimage around the streets of London, they then told me that they would section me anyway as they thought I was unwell for doing just that and had been unwell for doing similar acts for His People in the previous weeks.
As was explained to the Police by my father, they had already prepared to section me the following day. This was a fait accompli. They intended then to use whatever evidence they felt like to enforce their will on me.
Once the Police had left I went to the cell’s bathroom again to wash. I asked for a towel to dry myself. They refused, claiming I might hang myself with it. I had to wash myself in the sink, all of myself was needed to be cleaned after a day without a shower. I had no soap, only a plastic cup was provided to contain some water as the taps themselves were controlled by infrared, flush with the wall and they stayed on for very little time. I dried myself with my clothes. They knew I did this. They deliberately tried to stop me from cleaning myself that night. This was very undignified and I felt awful. They took my dignity away from me in what they did to me in this cage. I stripped naked to clean myself in the bathroom over the sink and they were forced to close the door after this.
The heating was on very high in the cell. I became very thirsty and continually needed water. They gave me very little water for the heating that was on.
The woman who was monitoring me from the other side of the cell fell asleep multiple times while I was speaking to her.
I repeatedly asked to make a single phone call to find a solicitor. Not one time did they release to me my mobile phone which the Police had taken from me in the park. Not one time did they offer to call someone in the legal profession even on my behalf. They forced me to wait in an extremely hot cell with no fresh air, very little water, no food, no cigarettes when I would have been just peacefully praying in a local park near my home in Kensington.
There were two mental health assessments taken by the psychiatrists and the psychologists on duty. It took them some time to come into the cell. I had already suffered by this point.
In the first assessment they carried out that night Our Lord Jesus Christ spoke His Truth to them through my tongue. I gave them a testimony of my faith as a Roman Catholic, a disciple of His.
They refused to believe what I was told to say.
Our God told me to tell them to find that evidence which was used in the incarceration and again in their mental health assessment.
They stumbled and looked at each other. There was a man who was belligerent and told me it did not even matter. The female doctor questioned me further and promised to find this evidence.
They went away for several hours and I waited patiently with the nurse who was watching me.
I taunted her by speaking to her softly and then waking her up when she fell asleep. I asked her for water. It was that I needed water.
I was told by Our Lord Jesus Christ to play this game with her while I waited. It was a game that should not have been necessary. She should have been taking care of me while I was incarcerated for what I told everyone there was a crime they were committing. It was very strange that they placed a nurse on duty who had not received sufficient rest. This I learn from the NHS nurses I met in the hospitals is common practice. Then they have the gall to tell me, all the way through my medical notes you will find, that I have to sleep when they tell me to. I have rest when Our Lord gives me rest. I have rest when I need it. I also wake when Our Lord tells me to wake. It is a gift He gives to me. This gift is documented in my diary for all to read.
This went on for several hours, continually asking for water and my phone to call for legal assistance, or even to call my parents. Eventually the woman fell asleep and I let her rest, I was told to by Our Lord, the game was over. I was told at this exact time to go to the bed and within minutes all the lights came on again in the cell and the doctors returned to finish their assessment.
I sat down patiently listening to them. I said very little. It was that I knew I would not be freed this day. I knew this from the words I was given while resting by Our Lord Jesus Christ.
They told me they had found the note, that my father had read it, that they all believed it was not actually a suicide note. I thought from this I might be freed and be allowed to go on my Pilgrimage to the homeless people of Greater London. In truth I just wanted to find my keys from my parents and go home to bed.
They then proceeded to tell me they were going to section me anyway. They gave little reason other than that they thought I was mentally ill. There was no other reason given than I was mentally ill. They thought I was mentally ill and they said it. That is what they said. No more than that was needed to section me.
I offered to shake the hand of the nurse who was escorting me to the ward. She refused. She was very rude to me.
I was promised by the nurse all evening that I would be allowed a cigarette in the morning when I arrived in the ward. I was told as I went up to the ward that I would be allowed cigarettes, not e-cigarettes, that I would be allowed cigarettes.
The nurse who received me in the ward informed me of the ward rules, it was a non-smoking ward. My heart sank. I asked for an e-cigarette, they told me they would need to wait for the psychiatrist to write a prescription. He wasn’t arriving in the ward until much later in the day. I asked for them to give me an e-cigarette and they refused.
They told me even if I had cigarettes I would not be granted leave to smoke outside the hospital building, even with an escort, for up to two weeks. It is not certain, as I found before with previous psychiatrists, that I would be granted leave in the short-term in any case.
When I found that I had been lied to regarding the nicotine which I wanted right then, I became angry with them. It was that I was irritable for what they had done. It was not mental illness, it was induced by their actions.
Every single person in the ward was to know about this cruelty they were doing.
I circled the nursing station in the patient corridors 3 times loudly shouting to the nurses how sinful the people who were caring for us were. Many times I banged on the perspex window of the nurses office as I circled around. They were alarmed at the noise it made, it was perspex and it did not fit correctly in the window frame. No harm was brought to anyone. No damage was done. Not a single crack on the perspex was made. They were just startled. I was clearly not happy with them. They were not happy with me either after this.
They did nothing at that moment.
I went to sit down, calmed down and gave up with my game of taunting them. I waited patiently and spoke to some of the patients calmly. They were nice people.
I then went back to the nursing station and found that they had not shut the hatch of the counter. I jokingly placed one foot inside the hatch that was open. I was smiling while doing it. This smile disappeared immediately.
Two men rushed at me, contorted my arms behind my back and restrained me. They dragged me with arms behind my back in pain to the room they had given me, there was a man who was later described as a contractor working for the NHS dressed in a blue tracksuit who had my left hand bent double in his hands. My hand was parallel to the underside of my left arm. It had a very small gap between the bottom of my fingers and my arm. It was literally, not metaphorically, bent double. He was a strong man. I was bound by both men. The man who bent my wrist in this way was laughing and looking at my wrist in disbelief seeing that it was an impossibility that I was not having my wrist broken by him. He was in psychiatric terminology manic. I saw his face very well. He was with the expression of disbelief as he looked at my wrist. He was told many times by me to stop what he was doing, he was told by me to look at what he was doing, none of the nurses stopped and they continued while I was now sat down on my bed for at least 30 seconds causing me complete agony in my arms, shoulders and my wrists. I was screaming in agony. I could not move with what they were doing. My arms were weak with pain. The nurse in charge who witnessed this eventually told them to release me. They did this at his command. This was a punishment they gave me, it was not restraint. The nurse in charge waited while he witnessed a punishment, once he thought the punishment was severe enough he told them to stop. This is a crime that was committed by those men. It was known about by everyone on duty at that time.
I identified the man by looking at the notice board of their staff. If it was not this man, I am sorry, but there is then another man who looks very much like this man who was working there that day. The man who contorted my left wrist I believe to be Martin Frimpong.
There was a nice nurse who helped with food one day. I don’t know who this was but I would like to thank him for his kindness in giving me what I wanted, I needed his love and care.
These photos were taken without consent of the individuals. I took the photos because Our Lord Jesus Christ asked me to. They scorned me for doing so, they told me to delete all photos from my phone that I had taken in the ward. I refused because it is to be used as evidence.
These photos are taken just after the assault. They are some of those who were working there that shift. They did nothing to help me. There is a clock in this photo proving the time they were taken, it was shortly after I was admitted into the ward.
I asked the members of staff about the man in the blue tracksuit and they told me that I was being racist for identifying that man, because he was of dark skin colour and I am of light skin colour. They mocked me and threw me off my investigation of finding out the truth about my assailant, the worker they employed. They refused to give me the mans name. It was that man, and I still know it. I can still remember the features of his face. If I am wrong, I am sorry to Mr Frimpong for mentioning his name as he wouldn’t have even been on duty, according to the nurses I spoke to. Records must have been kept from those days which I have not been given any access to.
They mocked me by saying the man was wearing a blue tracksuit and the photo taken of this man is wearing smart clothing. They also told me the man I pointed to was on a different shift. They were clearly mocking me.
A full investigation needs to be carried out into what happened that day. I told the doctors too in St Charles when I was transferred there. I told them two counts of wanting to speak with the Police. Only one time was I able to speak to the Police, and I was told by Our Lord Jesus Christ to speak of the Section 136 and that arrest they made.
It should be noted by the Court that they had a notice board too saying something about their policy on restraint. See there are some things not quite right about it. It is really quite something that they think patients want to read this. This is on the far wall of the ward where patients were allowed to take decaffeinated coffee. Interesting factoid notice boards like this litter all of these mental health wards I’ve visited. They are completely for show for people visiting their family in detention. They supposedly make people feel good about who is taking care of their family.
The Lord performed a miracle in my wrist. It should not have been working after what that man did to me. I had no pain after he stopped what he was doing. This is true.
Later the nurses warned me to obey them otherwise they would do it again. They did it again the following morning. They were ruthless savage animals. I am not being racist when I say this, however I may be accused of this because of their skin colour. This is what those few people were. I do not say this of anyone else. These people committed assault. Grievous assault. It was wrong that these people were caring for anyone. They should be fired for what they did and never allowed to work in a care capacity again. Everyone of the nurses there knew what had happened. This was a crime in that hospital that should have had police presence immediately.
This is what the police did to me by issuing their Section 136.
The events that follow here while I am in Hammersmith are not necessarily in the right order chronologically. I was awake for a long time waiting to move to a better hospital. I was told by Our Lord Jesus Christ that they would be moving me shortly. This happened as He told me within a short period of time.
One time I angered them for a joke I was playing on them and they proceeded to rush at me and I fled to a window in a safe place and I knelt down by myself, being told to do this by Our Lord. I knew what to do too as I had witnessed already a forced injection in Bolton earlier in the year. I lowered my trousers by myself before they got to me and let them do what I knew they were about to do.
They knew I was praying. They knew I was suddenly very peaceful. I prayed quietly to Our Lord His Prayer of Divine Mercy.
He spoke to me and helped me as they did what they were about to do. I told them out loud that Our Lord was speaking to me.
While I was praying they had raised a bed sheet and the female nurses were looking away. The male nurse quite gently force injected me with a tranquilliser. It was a powerful dose intended to send me to sleep.
It was one of the following drugs which they had prescribed without my consent. I was prescribed many medications as you can see. Not one of them did I consent to taking, nor did I consent to their prescription, nor did I have a meeting with a doctor to discuss the prescription or its side-effects. Not one of those Omeprazole tablets had I taken, I had been cured of acid reflux by Our Lord Jesus Christ before entering my first section under the NHS in Bolton. This was known already by doctors and they were clearly not doing their job.
It did not work. I warned them it would not work. It happened that Our Lord prevented this drug from working in my body.
I then showed them this by visibly showing signs of anger, and took the blood stained tissue out of my trousers that they had left there on my person and threw it from a few feet away at the psychiatrists face.
I should not have done this. I was wrong to throw this tissue at the psychiatrist. It was assault and I am sorry to this man. Nevertheless this man had sanctioned this injection. He had committed this sin himself. It was also only a tissue that flew into his face. This psychiatrist punished me for this with what he did next in my medical files.
I then returned to mock the nurses as I was given want to. I was wide awake without any signs of the sedative.
Later they told me to take medication and I flicked it with my finger into a wall at the medication booth. The medication did not touch them. It was flicked with my finger, not with my hand. All they had to do was pick up the medication but they implied in their actions that I must have assaulted the nurses at the medication booth. What they said was not true.
I was not given food the first day, I refused some meals as they were revolting but I was also not invited to go to breakfast the following day. One day of the three they brought a cooked breakfast to me in the ward. I thanked Our Lord for this gift I was given by Him. I was peaceful eating what I enjoyed. Thank You, Jesus, for this gift in my hour of need.
I was later moved to the intensive care ward in St Charles. They believed I had been detained because I was not peaceful which is why they put me on this ward. This was not true. It was because I was detained that I grew not peaceful, angry and irritated by the injustice they repeatedly did to me.
I was forced to stay in that ward in St Charles for 2 weeks from where I started to build a case for a tribunal which eventually happened when I was sent home to Manchester 3 months later. By which time they realised I had been peaceful throughout my stay in St Charles. No harm was brought to a single person other than me in Hammersmith, they assaulted me more than once while I was in their care.
For my remaining stay, the last time I was in a hospital, up to November 2017, I was called a model patient by the doctors. I was very peaceful. They still said I was mentally ill because I continued to tell them in ward rounds that Our Lord was talking to me, which was the truth. It should have been clear to the doctors who discharged me to the CMHT in Manchester under another section – the Community Treatment Order – which I am still forced by them to be under after at least one renewal, that I was being persecuted for my faith. They did not acknowledge the law. They did not discharge their duty of care for me, their victim.
It should be noted by the Court that I had been awake on the first day after admission in Hammersmith and Fulham for over 36 hours. Events may be in the wrong order. They did happen.
It is a crime to persecute someone for their faith.
This is what has happened over 7 years by the mental health system in the United Kingdom.
In the weeks leading up to my exile in Rome I was writing the words I was given by Our Lord Jesus Christ. Several letters I wrote as His apostle.
There was more to do in Manchester in those days. I was under forced treatment still by the NHS and for my safety I had to agree to meet with the care coordinator I was assigned on a regular basis.
There was a prophecy from Our Lord about my future wife and our beautiful children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren. These are to be true one day. This will be true. It is His Word. It is Prophecy from Our Lord. I did not write my own words in anything published in my diary, all words from me are sent from Our Lord through His Spirit. This is Roman Catholic Doctrine. It is true. It has been true since the beginning of mankind. It is known by His Church.
I then proceeded to speak to my assigned care coordinator Jayne Metcalf. She expressed that she wanted to hospitalise me again as she believed speaking His Word, receiving visions from Him and helping people who are homeless on the streets of Manchester was a mental illness rather than a calling from God. She says exactly this in a letter she penned herself to my Parish Priest in July 2018.
In this letter she effectively denies I could have God speaking His Word to me. This is what the mental health teams said to me over 2 years since March 2017. She says I am mentally ill because I say what I know to be true, my firmly held religious beliefs. What I say, and as she says too, is that my beliefs are Roman Catholic, they are Christian. Just this letter is proof of religious persecution by the NHS, the British Government.
I was asked to write a series of letters about Islam and the Islamic people by Our Lord. During this time I was told by Our Lord Jesus Christ of impossibilities in the lineage of Mohammed which he is purported to have divinated from God in his writing. These words of Mohammed, I found, cannot be true. I was shown this by Our Lord Jesus Christ. His Word is Truth. I was then told of Peace from Him. Peace on Earth. Peace in 100 years from now. I received visions of destruction, of peace, and I was told to write a single Prophecy about Islam itself. The Prophecy is not about the people of Islam. It is about their kaaba stone which they believe is from Heaven. Our Lord has told me to hide this Prophecy.
I have a backup of this Prophecy in several places on my person.
Solicitors in the United Kingdom have another backup of His Truth, this Prophecy.
In several places on the internet there are backups of this Prophecy.
I cannot remember where they all are right now, but they are everywhere.
Our Lord will reveal where they are to me if ever I need them one day.
It is not safe for me to reveal this Prophecy to anyone right now, because it’s not really written by me.
The Court must protect my freedom of expression first, and that includes recognising that the words are also in the Bible.
The Prophecy will be so. I do not know when right now, I have been told by Our Lord to forget about it right now. What He says, becomes so. My knowledge right now is from Him.
I was victimised by my family for revealing this Prophecy, as I was told to for 24 hours by Our Lord Jesus Christ in my diary.
They accused me of sin. They accused me of a hate crime.
The Prophecy is not about a single individual. The kaaba stone is protected by millions of Islamic people. It is an impossibility anyone of Christian faith could go near it.
There is no possibility of me ever convincing someone of Islamic upbringing to do what is written in this Prophecy.
It can only be true through Divine Intervention.
It is a Prophecy which no one needs to believe or prove.
It will happen one day.
In fact it already has.
It is my right under the European Convention on Human Rights to speak His Truth, words from Him. They are religious words given to me by God. There is no question on the applicability of European Law in upholding religious freedom for anything God has imparted on His Saints, predating the current day. The only question which could remain is if these words I, myself, have received are from God.
This is my firmly held belief. This is also my right under the European Convention on Human Rights to speak the truths I firmly hold in my beliefs. There is no question on this either.
Then why is it I have been persecuted and had my rights infringed by my family, by the NHS and by the British Government?
My father told me the morning before I fled the country that he wanted to report me to Facebook and WordPress. He wanted my entire diary to be destroyed. He was wanting to destroy what I firmly believe to be the Word of God. All of my diary including but not limited to this Prophecy from Our Lord.
My father then proceeded to say that he thought they would imprison me in a jail for speaking those words.
He failed to understand that no person was ever written about in this way by me, ever. I have not incited racial hatred. I have not victimised any Muslim person. Quite the opposite.
I have preached truths to those Muslim people who want to listen to me. I am clearly a Roman Catholic.
Hundreds of prayer cards have been distributed to taxi drivers in Manchester. A very large number of those people are Islamic. Only one person I met did not accept a prayer card from me. Almost all of those people accepted the prayer card and asked about Our Lord, Our God. This is not a crime I have committed. It cannot be a crime. It is what Our Lord told us to do in His Gospel. It is what we are asked to do by Jesus Christ. Today.
People have been doing these acts for millennia now.
There is no crime in what I have said or done.
The previous week before my exile to Rome early in the morning on the 5th February I repeatedly tried to arrange an appointment Jayne Metcalf wanted with me on a regular basis, once a month was agreed. She kept telling me her diary was full and then she said she was going on holiday. I told her to meet me in the hospital reception. This is where she is supposed to be based. She failed to even acknowledge the request.
And I indeed met her, as described, when it was time. Yes the date was 20th March 2019 that the appointment would happen.
She spoke very viciously about me the last time we met. I told her she would hear from Our Lord in prayer and she denied Our Lord had ever been in her life. At this time I requested a new care coordinator. She demanded I take time of work to travel from central manchester to Sale at rush hour and back to my parents house where there is no privacy, my work at that time paid £500 a day.
I wrote a final diary entry in Manchester, not knowing I would be leaving that night. This was late in the evening on the 4th February.
I was shown an impossibility from Our Lord Jesus Christ in the lights on the ceiling in my study when I was told to lie down and rest after this diary entry I wrote from Him. I saw very large rainbows around the lights in a well lit room, three lights were working at the time. I was shown inside the light bulb. They are bright. Our retinas are unable to do this.
I was told by Our Lord Jesus Christ to be strong. That I would be kept very safe by Him. This has become true already.
I booked a business class flight using air miles, still unsure this was really to be. By the time it was booked I knew this was to be true.
I was then told to pack a small suitcase I was given by Our Lord around Christmas time. I knew not at the time why I had it. I presumed it was to visit a friend who was sick in London, the man I had been told to help in September 2017. I was told to leave everything behind.
I was told I might never see my family again. I cried as I left the apartment and locked the door behind me. I left some lights on and left one window open to confuse anyone who might be looking for me. I was told to do this by God for my safe passage to Rome.
I departed by Uber while an alarm was ringing in the street. I was told the Police would be attending to a break-in report soon and to leave right then. I was very nervous because I was fleeing the country of my birth where I had not been allowed to leave without an escort before. I had only left for holidays with my parents.
I arrived at the airport and went through to the lounge quite easily, with only a little anxiety about being stopped somewhere in Heathrow.
I landed in Heathrow and I was told to find a quiet place to sit in the Heathrow terminal. I saw a message from Jayne Metcalf about a different appointment I had arranged with her. The appointment was not to discuss the section she had me under, it was for her to explain to the Job Centre agent Farrukh that it was her will to give me state benefits. I then sent her immediately a pleasant message back telling her to cancel the appointment. I told her an excuse. I was told to lie to her, I was in danger. This is the message that was sent. But it was that I knew I had interviews with Priests, even to acknowledge my calling.
I boarded the plane, landed in Fiumicino Rome and went through security.
I soon found all my cards were blocked, even with money on them. There was an impossibility I found in travelling at all anywhere to the city.
I was told to witness this Miracle.
I asked many people for help with transport, even members of His Church at the airport. There was a man with his wife who had nothing who kindly gave me water. He gave me an entire 2L of water. He was very generous with what he gave me. These were gifts from Our Lord. He had the Love of Jesus Christ in his heart.
I was told by Our Lord to then proceed on foot to a hotel I booked with a voucher I had from a previous cancellation on lastminute.com. I booked for no reason I knew at the time only one night in the hotel. This was as you will see to be that I would stay only one night in this hotel before I had the booking cancelled. The remaining money on the voucher was used to book the remained of the week once I had been released by the Police the following day. I never received any refund from the hotel.
I was told I would be needing the help of the Police in transport this day. I did not know why at the time.
I arrived before sunset at the hotel in Fiumicino, which is indeed in Rome, and gave them my passport as is the law.
I was not hiding anything.
That evening as I was given thirst to drink more from the bottle of water I had been given, I finished the bottle. In the last few drops of water I drank from this bottle I received what appeared to be a foreign particle at the back of my throat. I knew not to swallow what was there. I was told to go to the sink and place what was in my mouth on the porcelain of the sink.
I saw this was not from me.
I saw it was flesh.
I soon knew, before I was told, this was His Flesh. The Flesh of Jesus Christ. The Flesh of Our Living God. He then confirmed what He had told me in my knowledge in His Spoken Word.
He then told me to use plastic implements I could find in my room to gently lift His Body from the sink into a plastic cup. I was told to place another cup on top of this after adding some tap water.
He told me the water He told me to fill His Cup with was to become His Blood. It is Church Teaching this would be true.
In Torrita Tiberina, 3 weeks later, I was needing to place His Body in a sealed vessel, a small plastic cosmetics jar Our Lord had asked me to buy. I wanted to buy something much more expensive, but I was told not to, I could not afford it. I took an 11 minute video showing this holy act. This video is on Facebook and in my diary. He told me to do everything I did in this video. Everything I say in this video is what I was told to say by Our Lord. I took His Blood in my mouth and did not spill any of His Blood anywhere. The remainder of His Blood is on a Cloth which I cleaned His Cup with and is wrapped around this Vessel.
If it were the case that this were not His Body and Blood, what I drank would have made me very ill. It had been standing for 3 weeks. There was no fixed seal on His Cup. It was sealed only by a meniscus around His Cup.
One day it will be proven that His Body is the Flesh of Jesus, a child of a Virgin Birth. There is only one possible explanation to His Miracle once this is proven in science. It will be proven scientifically one day.
I have been told by Our Lord Jesus Christ to take His Body and Blood to Turin, to His Shroud. I have been told to do this. I have written His Word in my diary. I am doing this now. I am on my way to Turin through the country of Italy on a holy Pilgrimage given by Our Lord.
There is an impossibility that I have witnessed. I have described this in detail to you, the people of England. You do not need to prove that it is true. It is my firmly held belief. It is physically present. These things have happened. I have witnessed them myself. I could not have any other belief.
While I was journeying to the airport in Rome I wrote diary entries which were not published at that time. I then was told to start revealing them at the airport in Fiumicino. It was at this time Jayne Metcalf found my diary and began reading that I had fled her persecution. She foolishly thought that it would not be possible for a man to book a hotel room on the way to Rome. This is what I did.
What happened in Manchester is what I have been told about by my parents, I still do not have evidence from my medical files to corroborate this. I will therefore write about it separately one day.
I was told Jayne Metcalf raised a missing person request to the Police and the Police took her and my parents evidence. I know for certain I told only one lie to Jayne Metcalf, that I wanted to cancel the appointment because I had job interviews. This was enough for her to know I was safe and well. I am allowed to go on holiday, I am allowed to flee persecution. I was told to say this to her, she was bringing danger on me.
I was harassed by her and my mother that day while I was in the airport looking for some fresh water, there was only a hot water tap in the airport in the bathroom. Jayne Metcalf and my parents repeatedly called me for hours. I was told not to answer the phone by Our Lord Jesus Christ.
When I arrived at my hotel, as one would normally do, I phoned my parents and told them my situation. They offered me willingly money for food and further shelter that week as soon as I told them I had no money. I did not ask them for money, they offered it.
By the time they had done this the restaurants were closed. It was God who provided me with two delicious cooked breakfasts on the business class flights to Rome through Heathrow and food before I left the apartment in Manchester.
I had three meals that day.
No one had told me there was a search request made, my parents said nothing of the kind to me. Later they told me they had been sitting in a Police car giving evidence outside my apartment in Manchester. This was not right that they did this. It was not right that they did not inform people I was safe and well that evening when they spoke to me.
They wanted me to be extradited back to the United Kingdom by force. This was known to be true anyway by everyone with power to extradite me in the United Kingdom.
I was told by Our Lord Jesus Christ to trust in Him. He sent me to bed after giving me confidence I was safe. I woke in the early hours of the morning to see a man who I knew was Jesus Christ standing to the right of my bed. The lights were on. I did not understand what was happening. I saw no one was in my room when I saw Our Lord to my right. The lights were on. I would have seen someone to my left if they were in my vision.
I was told by God to be frightened. I screamed out loud. The Polizia who actually were in my room would have witnessed me fast asleep, they would not have been able to wake me, I would have woken startled looking at what they would have seen to be a wall. They would have known I was screaming at a wall. This was not why I screamed. I screamed not at a wall. I screamed because I saw Our Lord Jesus Christ looking at me fearfully.
I was told to look to His Body and Blood in His Cup on a TV stand in my room. I then saw one Polizia edging towards me on the left of my bed. He looked concerned for me. At first I did not understand what he was doing there and asked the Polizia I now saw in my room why they were there, what had I done. They would not have understood, they did not speak English.
I was told by Our Lord to get dressed and to protect His Body. I was told by Him to say “Corpus Christi” to point to His Body and tell them the words “Protect Corpus Christi.” It was known to them quickly they were witnessing something unusual.
They brought me back to the Police Station across the road from the hotel and asked me to sit with them in their office. I charged my phone and started speaking His Word, the words Our Lord asked me to say to them, through Google Translate.
They asked me to stay behind a locked gate in a cold, dark prison cell overnight. The bedding was uncomfortable however I was given gifts I had received before from Our Lord of sleeping comfortably on this hard bed. It was inappropriate for them to have left a tissue under the pillow, I hope it was not intended for me. It might have made it all the way from the psychiatrist at Hammersmith and Fulham.
In the morning I was told to wake by Our Lord Jesus Christ and go to the bathroom, a hole in the floor. As I was finishing and washed my hands they opened the gate, it was the right time that Our Lord woke me to be released from my cell. I took His Body in His Cup which I was told to place by my head as I slept by Our Lord, and I went through back to the office of the Polizia station.
They had changed shifts and I had to speak to new Police Officers in the morning to explain what had happened.
I repeatedly told them I was suffering religious persecution at the hands of the British Government.
They witnessed and believed in the Miracle in His Cup, they spoke of their beliefs and His Presence in their lives as Roman Catholics and told me they believed what I had said.
They spent hours negotiating with the British Embassy for my release. Finally the British Embassy withdrew their request.
They were good, loving, kind people in this Police Station.
I trust the Italian People. Roman Catholicism is their faith.
This is religious persecution in the member state of the United Kingdom from the period of April 2012 to the present day. It is ongoing.
I am the victim, Timothy Behrsin, I am in exile because of their actions.
They have violated my basic human rights, they have stripped me of my dignity, they have taken 7 years of my life.
Compensation must be paid.
The European Court of Human Rights must uphold my religious freedom as a Roman Catholic citizen during this time.
This document is a true statement of fact.