I was at a C&P exam where the doc was asking me leading questions. Like, "Have you ever thought about killing yourself?" I answered his questions in the same sense, and told him about thoughts I've had in the past. Nothing was phrased in the present tense. There was no current or imminent intent behind anything I said.
Later that day my house was raided by the fucking SWAT team. Full body armor and assault rifles. They pointed their rifles in my FACE. They pointed their rifles in my WIFE'S FACE. Not center-mass, their barrels were literally inches from our faces. They hauled me off against my will to the loony bin where I was forcibly stripped naked, strapped to a bed, and had two syringes of sedatives shot in my ass--while I was telling them I'm already on three different meds and I couldn't name them off the top of my head.
I usually sleep about 6 hours a night, and I never sleep more than two hours straight without waking up. It was about 1730 when this shit went down. I was unconscious until about 0830 the next day. They drugged me so hard I was out-cold for 15 fucking hours. The last thing I remember is laying in that bed and feeling the drugs kicking in wondering, "Is this it? After everything I've been through, is this how I'm going to die?"
Mind you, all the while nobody even told me what any of this was about. I had no idea this had anything to do with the C&P exam. The cops were macho douchebags all decked-out in full battle rattle with more high-speed gear than I had doing RCPs through Baghdad. Once they had pointed rifles in my wife's face, and I saw the fear in her eyes, I lost my shit. I'd like to think any husband would. But from there on out, there were no pleasantries exchanged.
Things didn't go any better in the cuckoo's nest, either. The cops informed them I was combative so I was greeted by a gang of hostile orderlies all overly-eager to finally use some of those holds they learned in their BJJ classes. From the moment the cops piled through my door to the moment the nurses knocked me out I encountered nothing but people lining up for their turn to fuck me up, and I had no idea why. It wasn't until the next morning when I sat down with a case worker that I learned this was all just because of the C&P Exam. That made me even more angry. Up until that point, I thought this was all some crazy case of mistaken identity. I knew I hadn't done anything to warrant all of this.
Had those cops never come to my door, nothing would have happened. I was no threat to myself or anyone else. Instead, armed men employed by the government came and ripped me out of my home and locked me up for something I said. Just words. Words without action. Words without intent.
This not only erased years of progress I had made, it gave me a whole new form of PTSD, and one that isn't so easy to ignore. At least the shit I went through in Iraq happened there and stayed there. Now every time I see a cop I flash-back to that day and my blood runs cold. I stopped seeing my doctors at the VA. I can't trust them anymore. Now that I know what happens if I slip up and say the wrong thing. Fuck that. I'll never go through that again.
If you think sending armed men to a Veteran's home to take them away at gunpoint is in any way, shape, or form a "good thing", you are part of the problem. Nothing about this is good.