At the troubled age of 13, I went with my parents to Plymouth to check out "a really neat family counseling place" they'd heard of. I thought it must be really neat for both Barbara Bush and Princess Di to be on the wall. Needless to say I was soon in an intake room being mercilessly pummeled with questions regarding drugs I'd never even heard of and sexual situations that seemed like jokes except these people were so, so serious.
After the shocking and cheesy "hi ----, loooooove ya ----" I was treated to evening rap changes portion motivation. The fourth phasers were literally falling off of their chairs.
It quickly became apparent that simply being there meant I had a drug problem. So after a few weeks I "admitted" to this. After a few months I believed it.
I spent a year and a half there. I never graduated. After my umpteenth setback, I finally misbehaved so badly (I did things that still make me cringe with shame even as I know it was so worth it to get OUT) that they sent me home. My parents were soooo disapointed (I was so suprised I was being allowed to live in their home since they'd repeatedly assured me I could never do this without graduating). I was sure, being just a "hurting little girl with a drug problem" who "didn't know shit", that I would soon be a prostitute, working to support my heroin habit (I had never even been really drunk before Straight). I had nightmares for years that authority figures (my algebra teacher, my boss etc) were restraining me. My anger was uncontainable. I still hate that fucking place so much. I was overjoyed when it shut down.
13 years later I'm still not ok. I still don't trust anyone else or even really myself. I keep trying though.
I am so glad I found this place. I don't why it never occured to me to do an internet search sooner, and my jaw dropped when I saw all the listings.
Wishing a little peace for us all,
a former phaser