by GRAHAM CRAWFORD

I READ an article years ago about research into rare survivors of extreme suicide attempts.

Extreme as in jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, where more than 1,800 people have plunged to their deaths, and only a few dozen have lived to tell the tale.

Researchers discovered through interviews that 95 per cent of those absolutely determined to end things were glad when they failed; glad to be given a second chance.

I developed a morbid fascination about the desperately tragic implications of that statistic: that the vast majority of those who succeeded in taking their own life would have preferred to have survived.

I contemplated on how many souls leaping off that San Francisco Bay bridge to their death changed their minds in the four-second plunge to hittingthe water at 75mph and thought: “What have I done? I don’t want this. I want to live.”

One in twenty jumpers even survive the impact, only to drown or die of hypothermia in the freezing waters.

I thought of all this again when
I read a comment below a video about the terrifyingly high levels of excess, and non-covid related, deaths throughout the world’s most vaccinated countries.

It stated: “I regretted it the moment the needle went in, and I’ve regretted it ever since.”

For that person, the irreversible leap into the unknown had been made, and there was no going back.

Depending on what figures
you believe, around 50 million people in the UK and 5.5 billion worldwide made the leap.

Many remain in ignorance of what it truly means, but as reports
and general chat leaks out about horrendous numbers of vaccine- related deaths and terrible side effects, how much longer before they are hit by the harsh reality of this particular water?

Psychologically, it will be a nightmare place to be in.

The very thought of that potentially ticking time bomb may be too much for many to bear. How will they cope? How will they and the rest of the
world hold together under the weight of collective anxiety and anger at being callously misled and coerced into taking, often repeatedly, a highly suspect experimental injection they never actually needed?

Some weeks ago, I was in one
of Glasgow’s busiest shopping streets at a memorial for those killed and severely injured by the covid injection, when a passer-by in her early seventies told me how she had ended up in A&E twice following the jab.

She had taken it very much against her instinct after being continuously hounded, badgered and guilt-tripped by her husband and other family members.

A year on, she was still clearly deeply angry at her husband – and also at herself for eventually succumbing to the bullying.

She said as much, and also admitted that because of it all, she no longer felt the same towards her husband, and did not know if her marriage of 50 years could survive.

This lady, and millions, possibly billions, of others may also have to deal with an enormous sense of utter betrayal by governments, scientists, Big Pharma, doctors, and all the other establishment institutions – not least of all the complicit corporate and national media.

The latter were the very people who should have sought to
give us ‘fair, balanced and accurate reporting’, but who instead relentlessly terrified entire populations with their disproportionate and misleading fear messaging about the virus, and their endless threats of social exclusion or worse for dissenters of lockdowns, masks and the so- called vaccines.

But here is the thing: I believe that those of us who did not buckle under the strain of this pressure actually faced our own severe trauma.

We could see from early on that the covid emperor had no clothes – that it was all an exaggeration, a colossal illusion built on deception after deception, until the truth became the lie, and the lie became the truth.

To bear witness to this, and hold on to solid ground,

was extremely difficult.

But I, and others, discovered
we were not quite alone in this cruel dystopian nightmare. By the sheer will of spirit, we remain bloodied but unbowed; but there is so much still to heal. And that is a process I doubt will ever be complete. A scar is a scar; it may soften in time, but it never quite goes away.

I know I will never view governments in the same way again as I did pre-covid. Any residual trust has gone completely.

I will never again trust the BBC and the rest of the mainstream media, and, as a former journalist, that is a deep gash.

I will never quite trust doctors or nurses who fell into line and stayed silent – and still do.

Or so-called scientists and academics who, again, stayed silent, or were prepared to fudge the truth to protect their grants and jobs.

Or police who turned so easily from community-supporting crime fighters to unthinking, ruthless, masked-up, tooled-up government enforcers, breaking up peaceful protests and political meetings.

Photo: Austin Neill

Or hysterical teachers and their unions who gave away their great lie that ‘the children must come first’.

Or most churches, temples and mosques for their complicit silence and hate-inspiring statements, such as ‘Jesus would want everyone to be vaccinated and to do otherwise is an act of selfishness’.

And then there are the neighbours, friends, family members and strangers who displayed a total lack of critical thinking; who put me, and my like, at risk with their compliance. They still do. What jeopardies do they hold for us in the future with their weak, blind and unnecessary obedience?

They were complicit in the theft of more than two years of my life.

My worldview has changed forever.

I am also now like a wary dog, constantly watchful of the abusive master should he attempt to raise his hand again.

Only now I know that no one is my master – or ever will be.

And do you know what else? I am one of a huge pack.

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