Swallowed Alive by the Transgender Medical Industry

My daughter disappeared in college. Save for the first Christmas home, when we celebrated in our usual fashion, we did not see her or hear from her for many years. The manger scene was unboxed and displayed, the tree was cut and trimmed, the cookies were baked and devoured. We volunteered at a local charity wrapping gifts for needy families. We attended services behind wreathed doors, and reminded ourselves of why these days are set aside. She was grateful for the mornings in bed, the home-cooked meals and the family time carved out of busy schedules. Oh, and she was grateful for the new clothes that occupy many a young woman’s obsession. There were the usuals - tights, and skirts and a jacket she just had to have. She even ‘upgraded’ one skirt with her sister’s when they decided it was an upgrade for both. And then she left. 

Her last Christmas home was like them all. They were family treasures I was certain she would cherish forever. This was not to be. Her memories were erased the following semester in what appears to be one of the biggest psychological operations the world has ever seen. Love became hate, parents became enemies, and siblings became suspicious conspirators. Worst of all, as her mind was corrupted, her body was reduced to a vessel for drugs and the object of a surgeon's knife. What was happening? 

The alarm was sounded in a bizarre email. “Mom, I am transgender,” followed by nonsensical memories and links to support groups complete with an Orwellian dictionary, which I apparently needed to survive as an ‘ally.’ I was not looking to survive as an ‘ally’ but to flourish as a human. Mostly I wanted to know what was now occupying my child’s mind.  Were her memories of me also erased? Despite it all, she was as steadfast in her newfound convictions as was the university, that her parents could not be trusted. The things that followed should never have happened. Yet they did.  

Silence and lack of empathy are among things that stand out from this time. Oh, how I wish I knew to tape the strange interactions I did have with a couple of university employees. The way these degreed and salaried employees had wedged their belief systems between a cherished mother/ daughter relationship left me bewildered to this day. How do you reply when an employee tells you that your own moral values are ‘just different’?  

Have we met, Mr. University Employee? He no more knew me than did he know my daughter – and he was talking to me about morals! Universities have morphed into political police states where students must adhere to a new paradigm to survive in the new regime. So must the parents and we were not playing.   

As for the doctors, it was only silence.  

As for the friends…well, most are friends no more.          

Great crises arise when empathy dissipates from the human equation. We are here again at this moment of time but perhaps in a bigger way than ever. Without empathy man’s body devolves into a mere object. Today evil lurks in social acceptance where empathy is disguised as ‘diversity and inclusion’. Uncritical masses become believers rallying for the ‘trans’ cause unable to see beyond the smokescreen. Power and money make Frankenstein medicine seem palpable where it should be unthinkable.   

The signs for all of this were there long ago as scandal after scandal has built a shaky scaffolding to support all manner of horrors across our medical institutions. I was just not privy to all of them yet. The monsters in charge seem destined to carry on no matter what.  

My daughter spoke of no diagnosis, only of an alien identity. To receive medical services though there must be that golden goose, the ICD code. I would soon learn that ‘gender dysphoria’ is that golden goose and one that is abundantly bestowed upon unassuming masses of youth today. ‘Gender dysphoria’ was a term I had never heard, at least not before finding an article from a rare gender critical therapist back then calling out into the medical wasteland. It was also quite a shock given a childhood, that in a nutshell, leads to tights and skirts on Christmas wish lists!  

‘Gender dysphoria’ is among the tangle of diagnoses offered in the diagnostic manual of the American Psychiatric Association. Medication often accompanies psychiatric diagnoses. They have no magic abilities though and can come at a cost. With a brain disease model of psychiatry, false positives can lead to Medicating Normal for some patients. Harm can follow all while drug development and sales can increase to accommodate the new normal. 

When the diagnostic offering is ‘gender dysphoria’ medicine is paired with surgical ‘remedies’ in an unbelievable concoction. Today the bodies and minds of youth are being swallowed alive by a mental health apparatus that has provided the mechanism to set the transgender medical complex on track for a multi-billion-dollar industry. Please help us make it stop. 

Please consider following along at Desexing: Medicine as Means for a look behind the smokescreen of the transgender industry.