Fornits
Treatment Abuse, Behavior Modification, Thought Reform => The Troubled Teen Industry => Topic started by: Anonymous on December 19, 2007, 05:51:40 AM
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Their parents’ instincts are warped, and murderous. Being obedient, and pleasing your parents, means destroying yourself.
After I left program, my parents continued to manipulate, terrorize, and hurt me in ways I can't go into, but resulted in intense physical debilitation. Rebelling completely was the only way to survive...a process I had progressed far in, previously, until my program detour.
I am curious how survivors here, went about separating themselves from their parents', emotionally, and physically..
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Woops, the first part of that fell off. (It's early.) This should say:
Rebelling is a normal part of growing up. But, for kids of abusive parents, who place them in programs, rebellion is critical. Their parents’ instincts are warped, and murderous. Being obedient, and pleasing your parents, means destroying yourself.
After I left program, my parents continued to manipulate, terrorize, and hurt me in ways I can't go into, but resulted in intense physical debilitation. Rebelling completely was the only way to survive...a process I had progressed far in, previously, until my program detour.
I am curious how survivors here, went about separating themselves from their parents', emotionally, and physically..
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For me it was moving to 9 different states in a 10 year time frame to keep my distance from them.
I had a conversation with my father (we have always butted heads and never really got along) about how I was as a teenager. I tried to explain to him that I really wasn't a bad kid, just went through a rough patch and became really rebelious. I told him that I wasn't a "druggie" like they wanted me to be. And I wasn't a sex-fiend either. Hell, when I went to my program I was a virgin and they made me out to be a freakin slut!
Anyway, my father asked me if I felt that going to a treatment facility made a difference in my life, I told him that it did, but not in a good way. I tried to explain it to him but he didn't get it. Maybe he is still in denial about anything bad that happened there, or maybe my mother (the one that came up with the idea from a guidance counselor at school where she taught) is still to this day telling him that it was for the best. Even though when their insurance ran out, they had to take a 2nd mortgage out on the house and didn't get that paid off for 15 years!
The emotional scars are still there. Actually, they aren't scars yet, they are still open wounds. I have never really dealt with the feelings that I still have and maybe that's why I am here. To see that there are others with the same problems and feelings and know that it's ok to feel this way and that life will go on. I will someday be able to talk to my parents and my husband openly about what happened, until then, this is the only place that I feel "safe" sharing.
I know that probably didn't answer your question, but it helped me a little.
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http://www.mothering.com/discussions/sh ... st10051578 (http://www.mothering.com/discussions/showthread.php?p=10051578#post10051578)
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the day i got back i lit a joint that was stashed in my room for the entire time i was in a program, and smoked it in front of my furious parents. they got pissed at first....but then figured "oh...just let him be. he'll come to his senses on his own" because they were so sick of trying to police me.
we found a middle ground eventually. I dont light up inside the house, she doesnt get angry. i get good grades, stay out of trouble in general, she stays happy. so now i do everything i got sent away for in the first place (primarily smoking weed, staying out late), and i dont get bothered as long as i fullfill my responsibilites. A big reason why this worked out is because I drew the line. I showed them that they no longer have power over me, and that if they want to have a relationship with their son, they have to earn it by treating me with the same respect that i treat them with.
things got even better after the HLA lawsuit. my parents thought i was lying...manipulating, etc all along when i was telling them stuff about hla to get them to pull me out. when the lawsuit came around, my mom apologized to me, crying hysterically. i had her read "help at any cost"...and now she's one of us fornii.
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I was over 18 when I finished. I got thrown out of my mom's house for breaking a stupid program rule during "aftercare." That was the end of my contact with anything program. I had no contact with them (especially my mom) for a couple of years which was fine with me at the time, as I wanted to be out on my own and was not remotely interested in going to college or living with either of my parents.
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I didn't have to deal with my parents. I spoke to them once a year after my programs, usually on Christmas. There was no point talking to them weekly like I had done in my programs. The only reason why I did talk to them was in hopes they'd let me come home. Never happened, and once I ran, I had my freedom, and didn't need them anymore. In fact, I was so pissed at them, I didn't allow myself to see them, or talk to them on a regular basis for 10 years.
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Five days after my 18th birthday, I flew the coop. I went home for the first time about four years later, to visit. I stopped by once more about a year later. I was still too angry & bitter to deal with them, so then I waited another 11 years before going back. I didn't have "regular" contact with them for many years.
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Five days after my 18th birthday, I flew the coop. I went home for the first time about four years later, to visit. I stopped by once more about a year later. I was still too angry & bitter to deal with them, so then I waited another 11 years before going back. I didn't have "regular" contact with them for many years.
I was over 18 when I finished. I got thrown out of my mom's house for breaking a stupid program rule during "aftercare." That was the end of my contact with anything program. I had no contact with them (especially my mom) for a couple of years which was fine with me at the time, as I wanted to be out on my own and was not remotely interested in going to college or living with either of my parents.
Seperating yourself, i think, is the best move. Sadly, 17 or 18 year olds can remain dependant, or unnaturally dependant on there parents. Like, for example, I knew a kid who was very sick physically, and couldn't fend for herself. That kid's life is twisted, now, badly.
Where did u guys live when you split?
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The Lone Star State.
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I left, was basically disowned. I came back for Christmases, worried about my dad's health, but never able to really talk. I never told him the whole deal of what really went down there. Afraid to break his heart. My dad eventually died, we never did talk.
My mom? Lost cause. Sibling? Also a lost cause. They are busy being successful in their own way. Not bad people, but Im really just a drag to be around. I havent been back in a while, some years now.
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The Lone Star State.
hehe, I mean how did you survive? Did you stay with friends.
I am a teen, whose broken from the parents, but still depend on them in many ways. I would break completely, but have complications....I don't know, i have conflicting feelings
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I didn't make mine soon enough and let my mom steal things from me that I can never get back. My daughter is 18 years old and does not know who I am because I didn't break from my mother soon enough. You just have to get out, get a job and make your own way. Later if you still are conflicted you can start to mend the relationship on your terms. Dont give your parents control, they have already shown they are not good at making choices for your life. If your parents were sorry, compassionate, empathetic my answer would be different, but if they are still controlling you you have to get away.
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What i dont get about all this, is the fact that it happens, kids grow up and become young adults-its not rocket science, in all this the parents and the program operators keep resisting that process. being inflexible and sooner or later abusive to some degree. Its disgusting. they are the ones who need 'programs'.
More should be done to stop this crap
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M, you are right and more is being done. This industry has taken over 50 years to grow into what it is, it will not be shut down tomorrow. But trust me when I tell you this, IT WILL BE SHUT DOWN!!!!!!!!
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What i dont get about all this, is the fact that it happens, kids grow up and become young adults-its not rocket science, in all this the parents and the program operators keep resisting that process. being inflexible and sooner or later abusive to some degree. Its disgusting. they are the ones who need 'programs'.
More should be done to stop this crap
Well said, about their inclination to 'resist' the process of adolescent growth.
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I ran when I was 16. Within 3 hours of running I was on a bus to Ontario to my father's house. I lived with him for less than a year and then with the help of a restraining order and a police escort moved out on my own. My dad is/was very volatile and can be very physically violent, but it was by far preferable to AARC or even living with my mother. I'd take my dad's meltdowns any day over my mother's mindfuckery. Anyway, living at my dad's out on this farm in Southern Ontario I had to walk over an hour and a half to get to the bus stop every morning for school and that was on the days that my dad decided to let me go.
The final straw was when he left with no notice for over two weeks to go gambling in the States with his girlfriend. It was the dead of winter in one of the coldest years in recent history in Ontario. He left no money and no food in the house. The electricity was shut off while he was away and all the water and heat were electric. So I built this nest around this old wood stove, hauled wood for three hours after school every day, boiled snow for water, and used the glow of the fire to do my homework.
At school I would linger in the cafeteria at the end of lunch hour and steal the leftovers from other kids lunches. I decided after about two weeks that it was easier to be on my own - and not living in constant fear of my dad finding some reason to hurt me. So I moved out into a tiny hole of an apartment abotu two minutes walk from my school. I had almost no money, but got $525 per month from the government. As part of the agreement with the Ontario government, you can't work while receiving social assistance, but my rent was $550/month and then I had food, school fees, bus tickets, and everything else you need to survive. I tutored high school students (and eventually university students as well) to make up the difference. Somehow I never had enough left over after school fees for food.
I worked my ass off and aced almost every course at school. Running lit this fire in me - the motivation to stay up all night and write essays, to work 7 days a week, to keep myself absolutely spotless till I was at least 18 - so that no one ever could put me away again. Still haven't lost that.
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Rachael
You rock. I wish I could read quality stories like that every day. You're damn good people.
I know I'm marking out to you but it's people like you that put the wind in the sails.
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I called on friends, I stayed with them until I could get on my feet. I got a roommate, I worked my butt off. Two jobs, for years. Eventually I got married, started college...lived life. I tried having a relationship with my parents several times before it finally worked in a way acceptable for me and for them. Lots of trial and error. I was fortunate enough to work one job at a restaurant. That's where my food came from.
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I ran when I was 16. Within 3 hours of running I was on a bus to Ontario to my father's house. I lived with him for less than a year and then with the help of a restraining order and a police escort moved out on my own. My dad is/was very volatile and can be very physically violent, but it was by far preferable to AARC or even living with my mother. I'd take my dad's meltdowns any day over my mother's mindfuckery. Anyway, living at my dad's out on this farm in Southern Ontario I had to walk over an hour and a half to get to the bus stop every morning for school and that was on the days that my dad decided to let me go.
The final straw was when he left with no notice for over two weeks to go gambling in the States with his girlfriend. It was the dead of winter in one of the coldest years in recent history in Ontario. He left no money and no food in the house. The electricity was shut off while he was away and all the water and heat were electric. So I built this nest around this old wood stove, hauled wood for three hours after school every day, boiled snow for water, and used the glow of the fire to do my homework.
At school I would linger in the cafeteria at the end of lunch hour and steal the leftovers from other kids lunches. I decided after about two weeks that it was easier to be on my own - and not living in constant fear of my dad finding some reason to hurt me. So I moved out into a tiny hole of an apartment abotu two minutes walk from my school. I had almost no money, but got $525 per month from the government. As part of the agreement with the Ontario government, you can't work while receiving social assistance, but my rent was $550/month and then I had food, school fees, bus tickets, and everything else you need to survive. I tutored high school students (and eventually university students as well) to make up the difference. Somehow I never had enough left over after school fees for food.
I worked my ass off and aced almost every course at school. Running lit this fire in me - the motivation to stay up all night and write essays, to work 7 days a week, to keep myself absolutely spotless till I was at least 18 - so that no one ever could put me away again. Still haven't lost that.
you're lucky. Stupidly, after i ran, i called my parents to let them know i was allright. Then they had me captured.
After that, if running was attempted, it was off to a mental institution.
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I ran when I was 16. Within 3 hours of running I was on a bus to Ontario to my father's house. I lived with him for less than a year and then with the help of a restraining order and a police escort moved out on my own. My dad is/was very volatile and can be very physically violent, but it was by far preferable to AARC or even living with my mother. I'd take my dad's meltdowns any day over my mother's mindfuckery. Anyway, living at my dad's out on this farm in Southern Ontario I had to walk over an hour and a half to get to the bus stop every morning for school and that was on the days that my dad decided to let me go.
The final straw was when he left with no notice for over two weeks to go gambling in the States with his girlfriend. It was the dead of winter in one of the coldest years in recent history in Ontario. He left no money and no food in the house. The electricity was shut off while he was away and all the water and heat were electric. So I built this nest around this old wood stove, hauled wood for three hours after school every day, boiled snow for water, and used the glow of the fire to do my homework.
At school I would linger in the cafeteria at the end of lunch hour and steal the leftovers from other kids lunches. I decided after about two weeks that it was easier to be on my own - and not living in constant fear of my dad finding some reason to hurt me. So I moved out into a tiny hole of an apartment abotu two minutes walk from my school. I had almost no money, but got $525 per month from the government. As part of the agreement with the Ontario government, you can't work while receiving social assistance, but my rent was $550/month and then I had food, school fees, bus tickets, and everything else you need to survive. I tutored high school students (and eventually university students as well) to make up the difference. Somehow I never had enough left over after school fees for food.
I worked my ass off and aced almost every course at school. Running lit this fire in me - the motivation to stay up all night and write essays, to work 7 days a week, to keep myself absolutely spotless till I was at least 18 - so that no one ever could put me away again. Still haven't lost that.
But, couldn't they put you away simply for running? Is canada different than the US?
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In the US sometimes the cops would help you out, and sometimes they wouldn't... it was kind of a crap shoot, from what i've gathered. When I ran, I was afraid to go to the police in Northern VA... perhaps this was short-sighted on my part, but I wasn't taking any chances.
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But, couldn't they put you away simply for running? Is canada different than the US?
No, it blew me away when I first heard that you could get arrested for running away. Running away from home is a pretty good indication that something is wrong and it makes no freaking sense to punish a kid who just needs help of some sort.
When my mother put my sister in a program in Washington (at least it was better than AARC), she decided to leave after about two weeks. They said they would let her leave but would call the police to have her arrested for running away - I hadn't even known that was possible. I ended up convincing my mother to fly her home, but still... scared me even just the idea - not that charges would have had any bearing up in Canada.
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Sorry, short answer: Canada is very different. No such thing up here as getting charged for running away.
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Racheal, are you close to your siblings, now? I know you wrote that they were turned against your somewhat....that (breifly, at least,) they looked at you with disgust.
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Racheal, are you close to your siblings, now? I know you wrote that they were turned against your somewhat....that (breifly, at least,) they looked at you with disgust.
Interesting. I don't believe I ever did say that. If my sisters ever did "look at me with disgust" it was not because of anything I did. Perhaps if certain staff made shit up about me.....
But currently, we all get along pretty well. Now that I'm fairly certain they can all take care of themselves and my mother isn't going to dump any of them in another program, I've pulled back a lot. It is far healthier for me to not communicate with my mother, and sadly it's very difficult for me to have a relationship with my sisters and manage to guard myself from her. But I love them all dearly and can only hope they never have to understand what it is that I went through. And I will remain within striking distance till I am certain that they are out of harm's way (ie. 18).
Rachael