Welcome to the Psychological Conformity Unit.

Sponsored by the Benevolent Safety & Compliance Initiative—your trusted provider of restraint, sedation, and emotional obedience.

Please proceed to Intake. You will remove your clothing on command. This is not humiliation; this is Protocol. The strip search is performed not out of concern, but to establish the order of things: you are powerless, and we are not. Once your dignity is removed, we will issue a paper-thin gown engineered for maximum vulnerability to ensure that you feel small.

Next, your Emotional Conduct Expectations:

• Negative emotion is disruptive.

• Positive emotion is manic.

• Crying is manipulative.

• Silence is suspicious.

• Honesty is destabilizing.

• Anything real is dangerous.

You must maintain a perfectly neutral expression at all times—as though your face has been erased. It may help you to pretend that you have been erased, as that is exactly what will be happening here. This is all for safety reasons, meaning it is more for the comfort of the staff and society than it is at all for your actual wellbeing. 

Any deviation qualifies as a Code Red: patient exhibiting personhood. This is an unauthorized expression of humanity and necessitates immediate compliance correction. Force may be applied at staff discretion.

Should the truth of your inner world leak through—if you tremble, sob, pace, yell, or simply feel too intensely—Intervention Mode will activate. Staff will descend instantly, because nothing terrifies the Psychological Conformity Unit more than unfiltered emotion.

You will be pinned to a floor or a bed.

You will be injected in the buttock with a tranquilizer heavy enough to erase gods.

You will drop into forced sleep.

Not because you were a threat.

Not because you needed medicine.

But because your humanity annoyed someone at the nurses’ station.

Now begins your Healing Journey—a journey defined by absence:

No therapy.

No trauma processing.

No compassion.

No understanding.

No attempt to witness the storm inside you.

You will drift through days—maybe weeks—behind locked doors. If a group occurs, it will be led by someone reading from a worksheet they do not believe in. Any call for help is rerouted to the Medication Pathway. The goal is simple: chemically quiet you until you become easy to ignore.

Meanwhile, staff will speak to you like a stubborn child. They will dismiss the depth of your pain, the brilliance of your insight, the magnitude of what you lived through. They will call you “mentally ill,” though the truth is you are more human than this entire building combined.

They do not see your strength, your sensitivity, your resilience.

They do not honor it.

They do not want to.

And when your internal weight finally breaches the surface—when the pain becomes too heavy to contain—they will call it a “behavioral episode” instead of what it really is: a human soul collapsing under everything it has carried alone.

So here is the central truth of the Psychological Conformity Unit:

Your suffering is too overwhelming to look at,

your depth too frightening to explore,

your humanity too alive for a system built to fear life.

Stay quiet.

Stay neutral.

Stay medicated.

Because if you show the full force of your truth—your intensity, your sorrow, your fire—they will restrain it, sedate it, and congratulate themselves for calling it care.

And you don’t want that… do you?

No.

So bury the truth, swallow your voice, and mourn yourself in silence.

© Unlock Psych