Memory Distortion

Memory Distortion is a website dedicated to those like me who have survived false memory therapy. Please don't feel alone. There are thousands of people just like you out there! 

Everything you read here is a true account about my life written by me and journalists, so others understand the pain and torment that occurs with false memory therapy and how it destroys families and relationships.

This website was made to help others through my personal accounts and to help educate people about False memories.  My story is no different than anyone else; in fact it is very similar to thousands of other men and women who have been abused by their doctors for their insurance money.

My Story in my own words....

The first day....

How is it that someone can believe something that never happened? I have been asked that question many times. People want to know why I could believe something that had no basis in reality. The best way I can explain it to you is I saw what I thought was reality. These were never real memories of any experiences they were planted in my mind by people who for a lack of a better word were trying to destroy me. 

Back in the 80’s early 90’s there were several cultural icons such Roseanne Barr and Oprah Winfrey that went public as incest survivors.  For me the catalyst was high school graduation, it was 1991 and I was 18 years old I had  watched Roseanne Barr and Oprah Winfrey declare that they were abused and had survived it seemed like it was OK.

 I had some feelings that my father had done something to me after watching them on television but not sure what.  On a sunny day in 1991 just before graduation I phone my mother and told her the devastating news that I thought my father had abused me.  

 I was taken to Charter Hospital on recommendation from the peer counsellor where I was assessed for admission to the teenage unit by someone who classed themselves as an intake councillor.  I was given a choice, stay in the hospital or attend the day I decided that the best thing for me was to say in as I did not think that I would benefit from anything by attending the day unit.  

The admission was very fast my insurance approved my stay instantly I had excellent health insurance coverage. I only learned when I was going through my law suit that I had a very, very large cap on my policy. 

I was allowed home where I packed everything and called one of my best friends on the phone. I told her that I was going to the hospital and that I would not be back for a long time. I remember her crying and being very upset about what I was saying. I knew then and there that this friend was confused by what was going on. I packed my things and my parents drove me to the hospital.

I was admitted to the teenage locked unit where the doors would make that sticking sound when closing. It was probably the most terrifying moment in my short 18 year existence the feeling of not being able to get out and having someone else control what I did every second of my day.  I was given a room with the bare essentials bed, bedding, desk and chair there was a bathroom with a shower and a sink.

Everything in my bags was picked through and my hair-dryer and make up was taken away from me.  The young girl that was sharing the room with me was sweet she had problems but she befriended me immediately.  My parents did not want me to have any medication and the doctors and hospital agreed wit h them saying that intensive psychotherapy and counselling and they would have their daughter back as normal.  The family doctor came to see me, took blood and did a full examination he said that I was fit and healthy and there was no health concerns with me.  The unit was nice, there was a day room where we could watch movies and drink soda with a nice little galley in the back where you could get snacks if you needed them. I remember crying myself to sleep that night wondering if I would ever get out of this place. 

The next day was a Saturday I remember this because I did not have to go to school. The nurses were nice and asked me if I wanted anything to read.  They spoke with me about what was going on and gave me a few books one of which was The Courage to Heal this book had stories from survivors of incest and abuse which I remember reading on the floor at night using the night light so I did not wake my roommate up.  The Courage To Heal became my bible, I took notes, used the workbook and even felt that a lot of the stories in there were similar to mine! I remember reading it thinking that wow, this happened to me which only made me madder, it made me cry and act out which was not my normal temperament. 

Without being able to sleep, having flash backs of memories that did not occur I was taken to see this Arab doctor who spoke to me in broken English about why I did not want medication. I told him that I did not know and that my parents did not want me to have it. He asked me if I would be willing to take anything and I remember telling him that I was unable to swallow pills.  He smiled and told me not to worry and that I would soon be able to sleep and my flashbacks would be gone. My parents grudging agreed to let them give me a small amount of what they were told a powerful anti-anxiety medication I was told it would help me sleep and that I would no longer have any more bad dreams or any flashback. The nurse gave me  Mellaril/Thioridazine in a little medicine cup it tasted horrible and I could hardly take it.  The taste lingered in my mouth for a long time.  I feel asleep in my clothes that night only to wake up to have to go to the toilet the room was spinning around and I slumped down on the bathroom floor unable to walk to move.  

I vaguely remember my room-mate running to get the nurse who came in and took my blood pressure which had hit rock bottom, with the room moving and spinning I was walked back to my  bed where I remember nothing else, I slept the entire day, around 20 hours only to wake up in a haze unable to recall most of what had happened that night.  My mother arrived furious with the medical staff asked them why they had given me such a strong medication, only later did we find out that I had been overdosed on the drug when I should have received 2.5 mg I received 10 times the dose prescribed.  The hospital labelled it an accident saying that with it being a liquid medication it was hard to measure out at times.  They said that the benefits of this medication outweighed the side effects so I was again given the drug. As an adult and writing this site, I found that I was very fortunate to be alive today from  overdose from the hospital. Mellaril overdoes can be fatal if left untreated, the medical staff did nothing for me. No supportive care, nothing.  

Some stories and links about me

1. Yorkshire Evening Post
2. My lawsuit
3. Mirror Story (London)

                                    Justice for Carol - please support this site 

See Observer article by Will Storr in their magazine of 11th December 2011

www.justiceforcarol.com has been created to draw public attention to what happened to a beloved sister and daughter after she came to believe that she was the survivor of a satanic cult. It is a truly shocking story. What is amazing is the determination and capability of the family to discover what happened to Carol over a period of a decade and a half when she was estranged from her family. That search is ongoing and new information is being uncovered all the time.

The courage to sue 

What is False Memory Syndrome?

© 1998-2011 Memory Distortion a Retractors Homepage

Any reproduction of this site is strictly prohibited without express written consent of the webmaster. Please contact us if you would like to use our story in any publications.

Site last update:  25 March 2012 

Memory Distortion is a proud supporter of the Save the NHS Campaign