Thought Experiment: What Happens When the System Accepts a Diagnosis Without Ever Checking the Chart?

Imagine this:

Someone goes to a doctor and says, “He’s unstable. Dangerous. Emotionally abusive. Mentally unwell.”

But that person isn’t a medical professional. They aren’t trained. They aren’t neutral. They have a personal history, a motive, and a long track record of manipulation.

Now imagine the doctor never speaks to the patient. Never pulls their records. Never consults any other provider.

They just write it down as fact.

That’s not healthcare. That’s malpractice.

And that’s exactly what’s happened to me.

My abuser has spent years crafting a false narrative—presenting weaponized opinions as “diagnosis,” twisting trauma responses into pathology, and feeding CPS and family court a version of me built entirely on fear, distortion, and projection.

And the systems?

They accepted it without question.

No records pulled. No verification. No clinical confirmation.

Just assumptions passed off as truth.

Meanwhile, if you were to talk to any member of my mental health team—therapists, case workers, crisis counselors, group facilitators, peer supporters—you’d hear something radically different. You’d hear shock. Outrage. Deep concern for how I’ve been treated, how I’ve been dismissed, and how my story has been rewritten by people who’ve never even spoken to me directly.

These are professionals who have walked alongside me in the mess, in the healing, in the trenches of real growth. They know my character. They know my commitment. They’ve seen the resilience I’ve built from pain. And they’ve had zero involvement with my abuser.

Their narrative—my narrative—is grounded in truth.

But the system’s version? That’s built on untested accusations and fear-driven bureaucracy.

This isn’t just frustrating—it’s dangerous.

Because when institutions ignore qualified voices and prioritize secondhand slander over firsthand facts, they don’t just get it wrong—they destroy lives.

I’m not asking to be seen as perfect.

I’m asking to be seen accurately.

I’m asking for the same thing anyone should be owed:

An evaluation based on truth—not hearsay. On lived experience—not weaponized storytelling.

Because right now, I’m fighting not just for my rights as a parent—but for the right to be seen through the eyes of those who actually know me. Not the eyes of a system that has never once asked me who I really am.