Editor’s note: This is an interview conducted by Tiago Pires Marques, editor of Mad in Portugal. The interview was initially conducted on February 27, 2017, and then updated recently for publication on Mad in Portugal.
Peter Lehmann is a central figure in the struggle for emancipation and dignity of people with emotional distress, with psychiatric labels and lived experience with psychiatric treatment. Lehmann transformed his personal experience of psychiatric maltreatment into a life dedicated to seeking alternatives to conventional psychiatric treatment. His story intertwines with the history of activism for human rights of psychiatric users and survivors in Europe and beyond. Lehmann not only contributed to concrete changes in psychiatric treatment, but also helped build an international movement that continues to fight for human rights in mental health and psychiatry. His life is a powerful testimony to how personal adversity can be transformed into a transformative collective movement.
The interview is an abbreviated version of the interview published in Mad in Portugal (1). All images were provided by Peter Lehmann.
Tiago Pires Marques: Peter, can you tell us a little about your upbringing?
Peter Lehmann: I was born in Calw, a small town in the Black Forest. It is the part where the famous writer Hermann Hesse, the author of Steppenwolf and winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1946, was born. This man played at the same places when he was a child 75 years ahead of me, was later in the same madhouse, with a similar diagnosis.
I grew up in a time shortly after the second world war, where I had to deal with parents who were educated and had socialized during the Hitler fascism. So, even if they were not fans of Hitler, they grew up in this time and, as I felt, they were not very reflective about the influence of that terrible Zeitgeist on the development of their personalities. So, I—like many other people—had to suffer from an often humiliating and violent education, and, yeah, other people developed better than me.
I did not survive that education really well, and specifically I could not build, how would I say, a stable personality, when I grew up. I didn’t become this normal man. But I also had experiences that are to be loved.
I grew up and went to school in Fellbach, a small town near Stuttgart. There I graduated from high school. In 1970, when I was 19 years old, I rejected going into to the army. I moved to Berlin-West, because at this time, young men in Berlin-West could not be forced to become a soldier. In 1960s, many young men went to Berlin-West to be free from the army. I married a bookseller and studied pedagogy. Parallel to my studies, I worked in a bookshop that we bought. Towards the end of my studies, in the middle of the 1970s, I found myself in various conflict situations. In 1977, I got divorced. Soon afterwards, I had different relations with women at the same time.
I wanted to finish my studies, but shortly before the final examination I got crazy. I was abducted to the madhouse, and nearly died from the neuroleptics they administered. They made me physically and mentally disabled, a zombie.
Finally, I was kicked out of the madhouse, and after some months I stopped these traumatizing drugs, which supposedly I should have taken for the rest of my life, and I recovered. I contributed my story to my book Coming Off Psychiatric Drugs. I finished my studies. It was a kind of sensation when I came back to the university, I guess people saw me like a human being who returns from the Greek underworld, the Hades.
After finishing my exams, I was asked to write a PhD, which I started, and to teach at the university and give lectures. But the students were not interested in the topic of psychiatry and antipsychiatry, so I left the university. Perhaps this was also because of my lack of teaching skills.
First, I fought psychiatry alone. I fought for the legal right to look into the records, into my own treatment records and I became quite well-known after I was on TV in a 45 minute-report about my law case.
After that, people critical of psychiatry contacted me and we founded in Berlin a rather radical organization of survivors of psychiatry. Later, I co-founded more organizations on a national and international level.
But within my survivor group in Berlin, I became a little outsider over time because I was too well-known. This was not good for the climate of the organization.
I started to write and write. One chapter was titled “What can we deduce from the mode of action of neuroleptics about the nature of schizophrenia?” I realized that many of the so-called side-effects of neuroleptics were the defined main effects. Immediately I came to the decision to write a book and make this insight public.
And so out of that small chapter I got a book, and when I couldn’t find a publisher, I founded my own publishing house. I write books, edit books, sell books. I started a mail-order service.
In our survivor group we developed an initiative to build a Runaway House in Berlin, because in 1982 we had made a trip to the Netherlands and visited in Amsterdam the Runaway House there, and we wanted a house like this in Berlin. Finally, we got a 1 million Deutschmark gift from a man whose only son had died under psychiatric treatment to buy a house.
After long disputes with the Health Administration of the Berlin Senate, we opened the Runaway House in Berlin in 1996. Officially, it was not allowed to be called “Runaway House,” because that would have meant the health authorities admitting that there was a reason to run away from the psychiatric clinic. So we named it “Villa Stöckle” in honour of Tina Stöckle who had co-founded the project in its first steps and who died in 1992.
After we had made a financial surplus in the first years because of optimal utilization of the house, there was a dispute about who had the right to decide on the use of this surplus. The group broke, and the faction which I belonged to left the organization.
We built other groups to make user-led research and survivor-led education. Beside these things, I was busy writing books, providing education about the mode of action and about toxic effects of psychiatric drugs, about ways to come off them and about alternatives. These books were also for psychiatrists and for community treatment staff in different countries. This I have done for 37 years.
A hilarious thing is that although I never finished my PhD, in 2010 I got an honorary doctorate from the University of Thessaloniki in Greece for my research in matters of humanistic antipsychiatry. So, finally I got a doctorate.
Tiago: I would like to ask you about that key moment when you succeeded in getting loose from psychiatry. How did you manage to do it?
Peter: Oh, this is a strange story. I was totally drugged with fluspirilene, a depot neuroleptic. I was a zombie. I was not able to do anything anymore. I did not wash and clean myself and do my hair and shave, so I was not fine to look at. But I had a friend, and her husband was a neurologist who had studied at that clinic, so they could not do with me what they wanted any more, and finally they kicked me out. I did not want to leave the madhouse, because I thought I would not be able to do anything anymore.
They told me to come once a week for what they call “aftercare” to get my injection in my ass. And they told me: “If you do not come in time for the injection you will have a relapse at once.” I was so drugged to believe this, all this shit, I was compliant, a good patient, without a will any more. Finally, I was not able to do the most primitive things, to cook, to care for my food… As I said before, you can read the story in my personal contribution to the book Coming Off Psychiatric Drugs (2).
Finally, I went back to my parents in southwest Germany, near Stuttgart, and went to the local psychiatrist there. When that psychiatrist went on Christmas holidays, he prescribed me penfluridol. This is an oral depot neuroleptic. In Germany, it was withdrawn from the market at the end of the 1970s due to its carcinogenic effects. In some countries of the Global South, for example in India, it is still administered under the trade names Flumap, Flump, Semap and Uridol. I should have taken it every week. I simply forgot to swallow the pill. And the prophesied relapse didn’t come. Then I had the idea “Oh maybe it was a lie.”
I realized also that I never would finish my university study because I still had to do the written exam in sociology and go for the final oral examinations in sociology and pedagogy. At this time, it was in 1977, there was this radical left wing terror group called the Red Army Faction. There was a wave of repression against leftist university professors, and I was afraid that they would lose their jobs. I was convinced that if this would happen, I would never ever finish my studies. So, I decided not to swallow penfluridol anymore. I had nothing to lose, and if I went crazy again, I would come back to the clinic, but the treatment would be the same. So, I lost the fear of relapse, and I won everything.
Tiago: How old were you then?
Peter: I was 27.
Tiago: Who supported you at that time?
Peter: My parents had built a room. They knew they had a chronic, mentally ill son they had to care for, and I could stay there for the rest of my life. I could work at the small factory of my father. They believed in psychiatric medicine, as most normal people do.
The only support in my decision to discontinue the neuroleptics I received from my friend Ricci. We’d been together since kindergarten. We had a close relation. When I discontinued neuroleptics, I recovered. My tardive dyskinesia and other physical disorders disappeared; my apathy and my suicidal ideation did too. You know, neuroleptics can have a strong intrinsic suicidal effect.
Nonetheless, when I told my parents that I did not take the neuroleptics anymore, they put big emotional pressure on me to take these substances again, because they believed the psychiatrists. But I was so strong already again that I said: “You can beat me to death. I will never take these drugs anymore.”
A year later, when they saw me healthy and doing well again, they confessed: “How could we be so idiotic? We saw our son nearly is dying in front of our eyes, totally suffering, and even then we believed the psychiatrists.”
Tiago: What gave you that strength?
Peter: Oh, I remembered some—some factors of my madness when I realized that I am the most important man on earth for me. I am the strongest man—for me. I can change the world. So, I remembered this feeling of strength, what the psychiatrists called paranoia. I had written some papers during my state of madness which were not lost!
Tiago: I wonder if you took that strength from sources such as literature, and if you have any important references in literature or philosophy? Was that important for you at the time?
Peter: Before I went crazy, I was more or less in a state which now would be called social phobia. When I got crazy, I had a kind of enlightenment, and this had to do with different relations to women. Suddenly feeling loved and accepted in this extremely stressful period of writing my diploma thesis for the university, I read literature from Rosa Luxemburg, Reform and Revolution. It came over me; I could identify the philosophical background of my diploma thesis. Of course, I did not write about a real revolutionary process, but I was able to recognize the conflict situation in the dialectical tension between reform and revolution. I had found a philosophical framework.
Tiago: Did you seek other therapeutic alternatives rather than psychiatry?
Peter: This is a special topic. Yes, self-help played a big role in helping me to realize what I was capable of. And we set up the Runaway House, even though it’s not actually a therapeutic facility. In 2016, we had a working group in the German state of Rhineland-Palatinate with three chief physicians from psychiatric clinics. The group included the regional organization of users and survivors of psychiatry, the critical psychiatrist Volkmar Aderhold, and me. Together we wrote an informational brochure about neuroleptics free from the commercial interests of the pharmaceutical industry. It was amazing to see what non-psychopharmacological options psychiatrists could offer with good will.
The brochure with these offers will be included in the book Withdrawal From Prescribed Psychotropic Drugs, which I will publish with Craig Newnes soon (3). The brochure—in German, English, French, Polish, Spanish, Romanian, Serbo-Croatian, Turkish, Russian, and Arabic—can be found on the internet. (4).
Of course, worldwide there are alternative approaches to neuroleptics, for example like Soteria, Diabasis, Open Dialogue, Crisis Hostel, and Windhorse. These are all approaches which are user-led, or survivor-controlled, or led by psychiatrists with a humanistic approach. The main focus of these alternatives is no force, no diagnoses, no psychiatric drugs.
For example, John Weir Perry, a psychoanalyst in the 1970s who had a project in California, said people called schizophrenic would return to normality within a few days if they were supported with being with them. The most important thing was no force, no psychiatric drugs, no diagnosis.
In 2007, I edited the book Alternatives Beyond Psychiatry (5) together with Peter Stastny, a psychiatrist, about alternatives all over the world.
To come back to your question, I doubt that psychiatry is therapeutic discipline. At least not for me. In the first madhouse I was in, I had the idea that I needed to get help from a psychologist. So, I asked for psychotherapeutic help. They actually offered a one-to-one session with a psychologist. I told her how terribly I was suffering from the neuroleptics. I shouldn’t have done that. My fellow inmates had told me that in the madhouse you always have to tell psychiatrists that you’re doing brilliantly and that you should never complain. But they hadn’t warned me about psychologists. In short, the psychologist passed on my complaint to the psychiatrists, and they had nothing better to do than to increase the dose of neuroleptics immediately, drastically.
Tiago: Being handcuffed to beds.
Peter: Yes, no force. Especially, no force against women with histories of sexual abuse. Yet they are stripped by force, again restrained to a bed, again experience the manipulation at their bodies. Of course, it is a re-traumatization, and it’s absolutely a crime!
And neither should psychiatric drugs be administered without full information about the risks involved. This type of informal force is much more widespread than overt formal force, but it is rarely criticized by human rights organizations.
Tiago: Who were your allies in your struggle? You began in a solitary way but then you had allies as well.
Peter: From the beginning, I made this fight to get access to my own psychiatric records. Before this time I had been active in a movement against house owners and their attempts at luxury modernization, and so I was already involved in alternative left-wing politics. When I started this fight for the right to look into the own psychiatric records, I addressed a lot of organizations, religious organizations, Social Democrats, high-profile individuals like David Cooper and Rudolf Bahro, and all signed solidarity statements.
Tiago: Did you meet them? David Cooper?
Peter: We only had a letter exchange, but, sadly, he died soon after that contact. Then I had contacts with other survivors, and I am still friends with the people I met at that time. In 1980, there was a big conference on alternative medicine in Berlin, where I met Franco Basaglia and also people from abroad, user and survivors of psychiatry, and people who were also active in Germany against discrimination of homeless people and young people in educational homes. And so I was quickly connected with a lot of groups and at least some supportive psychiatrists like Basaglia. This prevented me from thinking that psychiatrists are always bad because I knew there are also some supportive ones.
Tiago: So that movement of survivors was really a grass-roots movement without the help of the psychiatric profession? And in Germany?
Peter: We were a group of ex-patients only. Before we started, there was a group in Cologne in the western part of Germany, which also was critical against psychiatry and foster homes. It was a mixed group. It was also a social movement. It was supported by Heinrich Böll. Do you know Heinrich Böll, the winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1972? He gave that group a house. When our group in Berlin started in 1980, we had an important focus on the damaging effects of psychiatric drugs. This was our connecting experience. This focus set us apart from the group in Cologne.
Tiago: But I have the impression that in Europe, or at least in continental Europe, these movements started a bit later than in the United States?
Peter: In UK it started in the 19th century. In Germany, too.
Tiago: In the 19th century?
Peter: Yes, in the 19th century. And again after the first world war there was a movement in Germany against psychiatric coercion, but of course in fascism every resistance was killed.
After the second world war, the resistance probably started first in the USA. There was a group around Leonard Roy Frank, David Oaks, Ted Chabasinski, Sally Zinman, etc., called the Network against Psychiatric Assault. They started in the 1970s. In Europe—or example, in Denmark, England and the Netherlands—people got active during the 1970s, and in 1981 or 1982 some activists met in conferences of Mental Health Europe or at other opportunities. They built an informational structure and later the European Network.
Tiago: With the recovery groups?
Peter: Recovery from so-called mental illness? Or recovery from psychiatric treatment? If one does not distinguish here, the term recovery becomes arbitrary. It covers up the damage caused by psychiatric treatment.
Recovery from psychiatric treatment is never a topic in the mainstream understanding of recovery. As far as general recovery is concerned, one can see a positive aspect, namely that it contains the thought of improvement, as it conveys hope. It’s good that you are not lost to life when you have such a thing as psychosis or so-called schizophrenia and these diagnoses, that you can recover. Or you can recover and live within the limits of the diagnosed illness. If you accept the concept of psychiatric illnesses and their limits, then you can live within these limits free and have a relatively good life.
But, again, recovery from the treatment is not their topic. And there is the problem of living free within limits set by a psychiatric ideology. This mainstream recovery term goes back to 1937, when Abraham Low of the Psychiatric Institute of the University of Illinois Medical School in Chicago founded the non-profit organization Recovery, Inc. for people with various psychiatric problems. The aim of the program was to learn to cope with distressing trivialities of everyday life, with professional help. That all sounds well and good, but the key problem with this understanding of recovery is that it ignores psychiatric psychopharmacological treatment. Low clearly stated that medications should never be discussed, that it should stay the physician’s domain. Once, at a congress in the USA, I found a reprint of an old article with this information (6). Many people still surrender to this paternalism to this day. I don’t.
Tiago: It is a sort of motto for progressive psychiatry now.
Peter: Yes, but they exclude the topic of recovery from the treatment.
Tiago: From the harm they do.
Peter: Yes, of course, because they do not want to hear it.
Tiago: I would like now to bring up another topic, the issue of international networking that started in the 1990s with ENUSP (the European Network of Users, Ex-users and Survivors of Psychiatry), right? How did you come up with that and who were your allies?
Peter: When we started to organize in Germany in the late 1970s and the early 1980s, we knew nothing from abroad. When I started my fight to have access to my psychiatric treatment records, I wrote an article for a tiny left-wing magazine, which was called “Arbeiterkampf”; this means “Workers’ Fight”. There I mentioned the Irren-Offensive—in English: Lunatic Affront—which I founded in 1980 in Berlin together with other survivors of psychiatry.
There was a woman in the Netherlands, Dunya Breur from Amsterdam, who came to Berlin in 1981 because she wrote a book about the history of her mother, who was a survivor of the concentration camp in Ravensbrück. She wanted to interview another survivor of Ravensbrück. Dunya came to Berlin, she understood German, had read my article in Arbeiterkampf, and visited that communication center where the Irren-Offensive, then a non-dogmatic and in my opinion constructive group, had its meetings. I came into contact with her there by chance. Dunya was connected with the American movement, with Judi Chamberlin and other activists.
The result of this meeting was that there was an international connection to the USA and to the Netherlands. In that country they had the Clientenbond—in English, the Clients’ Union—then a strong organization. They—or another organization, perhaps the people from the Amsterdam Runaway House and their supporters—invited us to this conference on alternatives in November 1982 in their house.
Some members of our group, we had a small bus, drove to Amsterdam to this conference. There we met people from Denmark, from England. We kept this connection, before fax, before the internet and everything, and we met at the fringes of conferences, which were run by Mental Health Europe.
We met in Brighton, England, then in London, we met in Prato, Italy, and we decided to have a founding meeting in Zandvoort, the Netherlands. The Dutch government gave the money for the conference. There were interpreters in different languages, and we used our private connections to invite people from many countries. Finally, 39 representatives from 16 European countries took part and founded the European Network of Users and Ex-Users in Mental Health, as it was called in the beginning.
Tiago: And what year was that?
Peter: In 1991. You can read a chapter about that meeting, which I wrote together with Maths Jesperson from Sweden. This chapter contains the “Zandvoort Declaration on Common Interests” in the book Alternatives Beyond Psychiatry (7).
Tiago: And since then the organization has grown?
Peter: Since then, the organization grew and grew and grew. The Board should organize every second year a membership assembly, but this is difficult because you must have the funding.
Tiago: I saw that ENUSP is based in Copenhagen.
Peter: Now they are based there.
Tiago: There are other international organizations of users and survivors?
Peter: Yes, the World Network of Users and Survivors of Psychiatry. Another one is GAMIAN. This abbreviation means Global Alliance for the Mentally Ill Advocacy Network. It is funded by Bristol-Myers, a drug company in London. GAMIAN receives a lot of money from pharmaceutical companies, for example, from GlaxoSmithKline, Eli Lilly Benelux, Organon, Pfizer Janssen, Lundbeck, Otsuka, and Shire (8). When their board members meet, they, as I heard, meet in the most expensive hotels. They are dominated by professionals. They might have a psychiatric patient as fig leaf on their board, and they pretend to represent the interests of current and former psychiatric patients world-wide, and they are often invited to international conferences. Annoying.
Tiago: And Intervoice?
Peter: Intervoice is for people hearing voices. It was founded by Marius Romme, a kind and supportive psychiatrist. There are users and survivors of psychiatry, too, Ron Coleman from England is the best-known. Marius Romme has a chapter in the book Alternatives Beyond Psychiatry together with his colleague Sandra Escher (9). But they behave rather apolitical, at least the Hearing Voices organization in Germany does. They hardly deal with psychiatric violation of human rights. There is not much solidarity with other survivors of psychiatry, for example, with people who see pictures and visions or feel persecuted. They deal with hearing voices, coping with voices, with psychotherapy. Human rights are not their topic. If I am wrong and they changed, I would be happy.
Tiago: Has psychiatry changed a lot since you had contact with it?
Peter: Yes, there’s been a big roll back. Electroshock is everywhere. The mortality goes up and up due to the new so-called atypicals, which are much more poisoning. And the rates of forced commitment go up. It has to do with the community psychiatric system—the control is bigger. They find people getting crazy earlier, so many people are committed by force. The informal use of force did not change—people still have to take psychotropic drugs without proper information about risks and alternatives, and they are still being lied to about the danger of drug dependence. Or psychiatrists force them to agree.
Tiago: And in terms of human rights?
Peter: In general, human rights are hurt in most psychiatric clinics, wards, practices. Not everywhere. There are a few exceptions. In Germany, it is not different from the rest of the world. And of course, the German organization of psychiatrists ignores the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities in practice. They do not admit any human rights violations. It’s always abroad, in Russia, in China, but not here in Germany.
Tiago: It’s sad to hear, after so many years of fighting.
Peter: The major success in my opinion we had in Germany is a law about advanced directives. That means people independent from their diagnoses can make an advance directive and decide that they do not want to be treated with this or that. They have to make their statements of course beforehand, written, in a clear state. Germany is the first country worldwide where this right is there with no discrimination of people with psychiatric diagnoses (10, 11). You don’t need an expert opinion from a psychiatrist for this.
We had started working for this in 1981, after our group got an article by Thomas Szasz. He had taken the idea of the libertarian economist Walter Block, who had this thought: Why should people who think they could get crazy not write a kind of living will where they explain how they want to be treated or not? Szasz wrote an article, “The psychiatric will.” I had contact with him, and he send it us for translation. Our group translated it, then it was also published in my publishing house as a booklet. We distributed thousands of booklets, and in 2009 suddenly the German government, a conservative government, decided for this law about protecting advance directives. Fortunately, the German organization of psychiatrists was disorganized at that time, they did not take note of the planned change in the law, so they did not oppose it.
Tiago: One last question. I was asking about knowledge. What new knowledge did the movement produce? Experience-based knowledge?
Peter: The movement produced the knowledge that there are many people with big experiences, and you can learn so much from the others, who have still different lives, different experiences. And the biggest progress I personally made, in my opinion, came from the many meetings with users and survivors from all over the world. We might have similar experiences, we might have been in madhouses or treated by force, formally or informally, but we are so different, in our cultures, in our options, in the way we process our experiences and in the consequences we draw. To have the same diagnosis means nothing.
Tiago: It seems to me that this knowledge is valuable beyond the realm of psychiatric issues. Society at large can learn from these movements, and I am trying to think about ways of taking this kind of knowledge to other walks of life.
Peter: Yes, fighting to have a free life, better life conditions, combat against human rights violations, express and satisfy your needs if you do not harm others… Yes, people can learn from us, but this is not new.
Sources:
(2) Lehmann, Peter (2004): Relapse into life (pp. 47-56). In: Peter Lehmann (ed.), Coming off psychiatric drugs: Successful withdrawal from neuroleptics, antidepressants, lithium, carbamazepine and tranquilizers. Berlin, Eugene & Shrewsbury: Peter Lehmann Publishing. Updated e-book edition in 2025. Online information at http://www.peter-lehmann-publishing.com/withdraw.htm. Editions in French, German, Greek & Spanish see http://www.peter-lehmann-publishing.com/coming-off.htm
(3) Lehmann, Peter / Newnes, Craig (eds.) (2021): Withdrawal from prescribed psychotropic drugs. E-book. Berlin & Lancaster: Peter Lehmann Publishing. Updated e-book edition in 2025. Online information http://www.peter-lehmann-publishing.com/withdraw.htm. Print edition: Lancaster: Egalitarian Publishing 2023. Online information at https://www.egalitarianpublishing.com/books/withdrawal.html / Spanish edition: Dejar los psicofármacos: Conceptos prácticos para profesionales, pacientes, familiares (en preparación para 2025)
(4) Landesnetzwerk Selbsthilfe seelische Gesundheit Rheinland-Pfalz – NetzG-RLP (ed.) (2018): Aufklärungsbögen Antipsychotika in deutscher, englischer, französischer, polnischer, spanischer, rumänischer, serbokroatischer, türkischer, russischer und arabischer Sprache. Trier: NetzG-RLP. Online resource https://antipsychiatrieverlag.de/artikel/gesundheit/pdf/aufklaerung-nl-inter.pdf
(5) Stastny, Peter / Lehmann, Peter (eds.) (2007): Alternatives beyond psychiatry. Berlin, Eugene & Shrewsbury: Peter Lehmann Publishing. E-book edition in 2025. Online information at http://www.peter-lehmann-publishing.com/alternatives-beyond-psychiatry.htm / Information about editions in German, Greek & Marathi see http://www.peter-lehmann-publishing.com/alternatives.htm
(6) Chicago Medicine (2002): The legacy of Chicago’s Abraham A. Low, MD: Recovery, Inc., an affordable mental health resource for patients. Reprint after Chicago Medicine, Vol. 105, No. 1
(7) Lehmann, Peter / Jesperson, Maths (2007): Self-help, difference in opinion and user control in the age of the Internet (pp. 366-380). In: Peter Stastny & Peter Lehmann (eds.), Alternatives beyond psychiatry. Berlin, Eugene & Shrewsbury: Peter Lehmann Publishing. E-book edition in 2025
(8) Lehmann, Peter (2009): A snapshot of users and survivors of psychiatry on the international stage. In: Journal of Critical Psychology, Counselling and Psychotherapy, Vol. 9, No. 1, pp. 32-42. Online resource http://www.peter-lehmann-publishing.com/articles/lehmann/pdf/inter2008e.pdf
(9) Romme, Marius / Escher, Sandra (2007): Intervoice – Accepting and making sense of hearing voices (pp. 131-137). In: Peter Stastny &Peter Lehmann (eds.), Alternatives beyond psychiatry. Berlin, Eugene & Shrewsbury: Peter Lehmann Publishing. E-book edition in 2025
(10) Lehmann, Peter (2015): Securing human rights in the psychiatric field by advance directives. In: Journal of Critical Psychology, Counselling and Psychotherapy, Vol. 15, No. 1, pp. 1-10. Online resource http://www.peter-lehmann-publishing.com/articles/lehmann/pdf/lehmann_advance-directives-2014.pdf
(11) Lehmann, Peter (2021): The Psychosocial Advance Directive. Not only for the case of failures in withdrawal from prescribed psychotropic drugs (pp. 505-531). In: Peter Lehmann & Craig Newnes (eds.), Withdrawal from prescribed psychotropic drugs. E-book. Berlin & Lancaster: Peter Lehmann Publishing. Latest updated e-book edition in 2025. Print edition: Lancaster: Egalitarian Publishing 2023, pp. 329-350
