“She” has begun to test my patience.

Although I’ve done little work in the area of “transvestigation” that my other conspiracy-theorist contemporaries have undertaken to a far greater detail than I myself could possibly be capable, I will lay out some of the basic prepositions for such a phenomenon as the crypto-tranny’s existence. Freemasonic-class Judaeotranssexuals aren’t like your normal punter who is abused left, right, and center, until finally capitulating to various mentally-damaging and physically-honnifying antipsychotic regimes, before being permitted the “ascension” (and as such, aren’t cryptic at all, but highly defamed in humiliation by the authorities’ collective efforts). They are aggressively enabled of it from a young age, and the more hypermale of their lot that the starting-material are, the better, as had screamed to me in the phrenological and craniofacial features of Haselgrove’s face; they will be more assertive in the recruitment of their lot, more callous in the denial of those they find undesirable to such a political objective, and, with the exposure of exogenous estrogenic hormones from a young age and relative refrainment from tainting by neuroleptics, of a particularly manipulative, verbally facile, and cunning socio-strategic disposition, as would be imparted by the rather efficacious permutation of their neurology during adolescence.

The bitch has done nothing but variously affect commiserations whilst contradictorily back-stabbing me in many convert actions, affirming my suspicions above.

I was originally promised a follow-up appointment in 6 weeks following late January 2016. It has now been 4 months and I only recently learn of its delay a further 2 months. All the while, I go down to A&E, not really to speak to these professionals, but, this time voluntarily, to gauge what the fuck it was they were playing at. It would appear that they’ve taken the newly-adorned backseat approach of getting the nursing aide to ask questions which I regard to be an illegitimate technique of misdirecting the conversation. A conversation they don’t want to have, because as introman had boasted of his successful disinformation of the psychiatric department at St. John’s regards his anonymous tip-offs made against me, so they’ve taken it as gospel, implicit assumptions which were never discussed in full at any point regarding what it was, and why, I’d truly felt to any effect of what it is Haselgrove is trying to keep me from in its own hegemonical oligarchization, for I call it: crypto-pseudotranssexual autogynephile catamite-chaser.

I’m seriously considering murdering it if it dares try to speak, and indeed admits my suspicion of “her” intention to use the psych deparment in capacity of gaslighting, in invalidation of what it is I am convinced I was destined to be. Take for this a simple eye-for-an-eye principle of retribution. Haselgrove, when “she” mentions of the legal (if immoral) epiphet of the clause of personal responsibility (immoral in this instance precisely because such a conspiracy to prevent me from doing what needed to be done was far outwith my locus of control, and quite evidently so far as they actually have the power to erase real persons in their subsumation under legal ones; such a responsibility was relegated, apparently, to Kenneth’s — the nurse I spoke about previously — own misinformation of adjacent hospitals), seems to miss the irony of the statement that, whilst I would be committing an official wrong to destroy “her”, I would be taking the only (moral) capacity for active responsibility I had in redressing such wrongs, taking “her” own entirely retributive and non-restitutive use of this concept towards a particularly ironic turn. (Honestly, “she” can threaten me with prison, except for the fact that penal incarceration, just to invoke an institution whose function is entirely retributive, was seen as someting desirable to Haselgrove in the bastard’s disposal of me, in that, having knowingly fomented the cirucmstances for an outrage in my resentment of the whores, if it was not “her”, it would’ve been someone else.) I, in commiting such an action, prevent “her” from engaging in a widening of this systemic apparatus in a damage control entirely designed to ensure the legitimacy of its own status at the expense of mine. The logical prepositions almost lay themselves out with a near-enviable self-demonstrability (if my only regret remains that this will be never understood for the genuinely considered judgement it took the limits of my endurance and depths of my conviction to reason, and only as some kind of rationalization, though I would question the rigour of theirs in thinking what could possibly be extracted from an exchange as short as being asked “So would you identify as a gay male?” being responded with “No. I have other plans when I move there.”).

Indeed, it doesn’t entitle them to pass a value-judgement on the validity of such a claim’s viability in soundness, or to refer to past records, which were distorted by unscrupulous bastards in Ward 17, regarding any consultations to a previous effect, in which it would indeed be demonstrated an infinite degree of extrapolation-based presumption in relation to the input gleaned by said consultation: such that none were ever had on that matter, so none further had been made at all. Yet the whore does this: presumes of this, along with a cursory mention of my views on racial relations and the concept of Volkerhass in one appointment, to constitute enough for an “identity diffusion” component of the “identity disturbance” criterion, let alone the other criterion thereof, in an ad-hoc attempt to legitimate a non-existent personality disorder, used to substitute for taking a serious consideration of the actual issue at hand.

Q.E.D. NHS psychopathy, moral bankruptcy, and lack of clinical rigour, where individuals like Haselgrove can sustain tantrums under a veneer of barely-affected legitimacy in, under the impression of conducting psychiatric assessment, lashing out life-ruination tactics against me. “She” had essentially killed me, thus, if I do eventually return the favour, I don’t see its lack of justification.