In September, 2007, immediately following my mother's death, the Montreal Police knocked on my door and took me away for a "thirty-day mental evaluation". This action was the result of accusations made against me by a complete stranger named Kenneth Gregoire Prud'homme and Dawn McSweeney's mother, my youngest sister, Debbie, that won a court order granted by a Quebec judge without my knowledge or participation. All the details are reported here on my blogs which are being read by thousands of people around the world.
The following is copied exactly from my original notes, handwritten at the Royal Victoria Hospital in Montreal at the end of September, 2007.
Cliff Carter was my darling husband.
Ed is Dawn McSweeney's father.
It's 5:25 A.M. I am in a small room at the RVH. The two other women are snoring. I came upon this pen and paper by good fortune so I will record what I can.
It's June, 2007 - 28 or 29. The third day of my incarceration if I remember right. Two policemen knocked on my door and presented a COURT ORDER ! in which my sister Debbie accuses me of threatening her life. Later I was told that Debbie accuses me of planning or dreaming? of burning bldgs, murdering our parents ! She attributes to me the very actions that are actually what Ed has done! But the doctors don't know me and they seem to believe the accusations. So I must submit and live through this real life nightmare in the hope that the truth will become apparent soon. I look to the hills, from whence cometh my help? Where are my friends? What will happen to my reputation? Even after the truth is clearly revealed there will be a shadow over me for some people.
Debbie - What could cause our angel baby sister to concoct such a horrible slander? Is she so terrorized by Ed that he could force her to take such an outrageous vendetta against the only person who has been trying to protect her? Once you are accused of being insane, nothing you say carries any weight. The victim once again becomes the victim. Who can help Debbie? If she destroys me, how can she live with her guilt? Please God ! At least find a way to protect her from Ed. What way? I am the only person who has been trying to save her. The worst thing for me would be if the system releases me without proving the true story. Debbie will be in danger and I will be so badly tarnished that no one will trust my word. I find it so hard to believe that Debbie has changed so much that she is doing this to me by her own free will ! God help us.
The Third Day - 2 at JGH - (Jewish General Hospital) - Yesterday brought by ambulance to Royal Vic. Now 7:20 A.M. - the third day. Remi, the night nurse accommodated me with access to the shower, a small cup of liquid soap, towels - but the third day without a toothbrush ! I can never forget how Cliff's dental hygiene was neglected at all levels in the final months of his precious life. I blame myself too for not insisting that the CLSC care givers and nursing staff in the hospitals clean his teeth. There were other - more urgent - needs.
I feel better now that I have showered. It's almost 7:30 A.M. and Magda and the pretty dark-haired young woman who came in last night are still snoring. The attending helper kindly allowed me access to my belongings. When the police came, I was naked - about to shower. I had no time to wash. I shut the windows, turned off the T.V., the fan, the computer after sending an urgent email to Warren, Leslie, Eleanor and Diane. Put out all the lights. Check the kitchen. Throw on a bra, slacks, top, grab my bags, wallet. Throw in an extra pair of clean panties. Always prepare for the impossible. But the impossible is really happening now and I am glad I took the clean underwear.
Whew - a fast antacid and back to this. The women snore more loudly now as breakfast time approaches. We wonder how we will cope with the unforeseen - the unforeseeable ? Based on my experience, I cannot foresee justice. But I have hope. I remember my Night in Shelter Three. My circumstances were so much worse then.(This room is quite dark - only light from the hall through a small window.) Back then, after Cliff died, I was homeless, destitute, hungry, unemployed, grieving.
Oh! Yes. Grieving so intensely and social workers - young, so cold. And cancer ! I didn't know if I would live or die. And chemo - the very word makes me sick ! But I still hoped. My life was in boxes in my parents' home. If I could survive ... And then Dawn McSweeney stole everything - including my family. And now she reaches out from behind my sister Debbie and tries to tear away my reputation, my freedom, my self-esteem. But I am the keeper of my soul and, with God's help, one day, I will read this journal before an audience and let them taste what an innocent victim may suffer at the hands of those who covet and hate - the truth will out. This attempt to disgrace and silence me must fail. It is a desperate act because truth is truth and liars fear it.
In Shelter Three, I wrote one of the best essays of my life. Terrible situations can tear away all the distractions. I am lucky the attendant allowed me paper and pencil. No sharp objects for us - the "others" - the truly sick and those accused-of-madness. I think most people are unaware that, in an instant - in a flash, with the act of one wicked human being - your freedom can be snatched away from you. A knock at the door and it is gone. Your freedom is gone. Your credibility is gone. The work and deeds of a lifetime are gone. You are a prisoner - and worse - the shadow will follow you for the rest of your life. People who have known you for decades pass you by pretending they haven't noticed you, But one woman (at the JGH) who has just seen me in passing over the years - stopped to speak to me, to encourage me. I won't forget her. I don't know her name, but I will find a way to thank her for her kindness. Just a few words of respect.
After 8 A.M. and the women sleep. It is June, 2007 in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. And I am - literally - a prisoner of the state. Where are my friends?
I am Phyllis Carter. The medical system calls me "Mrs. Rubin". God ! I am not my mother. My mother is dead. She has been dead for over a week now I think. But she has been dead to me for ten years. It's a long, tragic tale of mental illness and lies. How cruel for me to have failed to bring my flyers with me when the police came. If the psychiatrists had read the history would they get it? But Debbie told a judge a twisted tale and, in Canada, in 2007, she actually succeeded in obtaining a court order to have me seized and imprisoned in a mental hospital. Canada, 2007. Please God, let me see the day when I can tell the world about this. But will anyone care? A judge who never met me, never spoke to me, slashed my freedom and my reputation away from me with the stroke of a pen - in Montreal in the 21st century.
Beware you who DARE to speak the truth. If someone fears you or envies you, you are not safe anywhere. Remember Jesus. This piece of truth falling into the hands of those intent on having their own way could be judged as delusional, paranoid. Remember Jesus. How Dawn McSweeney detests Jesus ! She destroyed an entire family to punish me because I chose Jesus. I never would have imagined myself a martyr for Christ when my faith is so flimsy.
At the JGH yesterday, I left messages for my friends, Dr. Ben and Dr. I.S. Where are my friends?
9 A.M. The food trays have been delivered and the lights turned on, but the women sleep. My "pillow" is fastened to the bed by a heavy chain. I feel weak and queazie but with pencil and paper, at last, empowered again. Did Dawn think she could crush my spirit? I may be sad and worried, but as Paul said, "not destroyed". I am in good company.
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