Sources:
- The original testimony found on a website (shutdownlogangiver.com)
- Factsheet about the facility (Fornits Wiki)
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Mike experience of Logan River Academy
This testimony was found on Youtube. Further investigation led to a website which is listed below as a source. All rights goes to the original author.
Sources:
Sources:
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Anon at Devereux Glenholme
This testimony was made on the message boarding belonging to the human rights organization HEAL-online. All rights goes to the original author, who have chosen to be anonymous
I had the 'pleasure' of being sent to this place when I was around 11 or 12,in 1992 or '93. My stay there was cut short, thank God, because my stepfather, a Navy man, was being transferred out of state.
First of all we'll start with the glamorous brochures and outlandish claims of lavish accommodations afforded the 'students' at their 'school'. I was,at the time, in an acute care mental facility for children and adolescents in Rhode Island, diagnosed with bipolar disorder, when discussions for my future care were being held by all concerned.
Somehow,Devereux Glenholme was included. With glossy brochures featuring pictures of go-kart tracks (that I'd never get to use) and ice cream shops, they lured me in. Nothing but a shameless sales pitch.
Well,the first week I was there I was on the phone to my mother,desperately begging for her to come get me out of there. It all started with the 'discipline' regime which involved, as another poster had said, having to stand behind your chair at mealtimes and having to march around single file, not allowed to speak or anything- but that really wasn't too bad compared to what had me on the phone.
One morning,I was accosted by two older, bigger (I was 11 or 12) 15-16 year old boys who, wearing blankets, gave me a 'blanket party' while I was still in bed. Kids will be kids,right? But this happened in the full view of a staff member who watched the entire thing happen,without intervening - this staff member being a full grown man - he watched as a boy older and bigger than me climbed onto the top bunk with me and punched me repeatedly in the face and head. This man said he wouldn't intervene because it could expose him to liability. What a coward. More fun at Devereux Glenholme included finding my suitcase with my belongings rifled through and vandalized in their basement of one of their oh-so-lovely 'cottages'.
Apparently, Glenholme places more emphasis on collecting its hundred + thousand a year 'tuition' than on protecting the wellbeing or the property of the 'students' who they collect it from. Also there were the little tile rooms - probably the most egregious of offenses to humanity and sanity that Devereux Glenholme had to offer in my stay with them. They had several of these rooms - not included in the information in what can only be described as their sales brochures,to be sure - all across their campus, about the size of a small bathroom. These rooms were covered from floor to ceiling with tile,they were dimly lit and featured a door with no handle on the inside and a drain in the center of the room. Oftentimes,I was placed in one of these rooms and there was excrement left in them from children who had been held in them before.
Just as the poster above mentioned - they didn't let you out of there for hours for anything; bathroom,water,food,etc. Yes - these criminals denied children access to basic human needs. And an interesting note was that at the time,or so I was told, it was illegal in the state of Connecticut to lock a child in a room using an actual deadbolt or other fastening device, so they used to have the older kids act as 'holders', or in other words,they would throw a kid in one of these holes, and have another child hold the door shut so that you could not get out.
Speculatively, one can imagine what the 'holder' could get away with regarding tormenting the child he was keeping in the room when he was unsupervised- perhaps even while he was supervised,given the manner in which staff dealt with even physical assaults between the children as I have described above.
As to the 'amenities' at Devereux Glenholme - I was there maybe 9 months. Not once was I allowed to use the go-karts,the track seemed to never get used either. The pool - interestingly,if you look at their website, its the same one they had there back when I was incarcerated there in the early 90s, and looks like it was built in the 70s - I got to use once. For maybe 15 minutes. I don't recall the horses there, but I'll tell you, just like all the other 'amenities' at Glenholme, those horses are just there to entice people to pay them to take their kids.
Most of the time we were either in what they call 'classrooms',or the 'cottages', or we were being forced to participate in some form of what they called 'leisure activities', which was just more excersize in 'discipline', as 'leisure' meant doing things like practicing square dancing or other horribly dull and droll (square dancing, for kids? seriously?) 'activities' that if you didn't participate in,and with a 'good attitude'- see above about the little tile rooms.
As for 'therapy' sessions - I remember one 'session' in particular that was being led by a so-called 'councilor', the exercise was to compose a 'group rap'. So we all had to sit around and make rap lyrics. How therapeutic. Devereux Glenholme, as I remember it,was a nightmare. There is nothing a child can do, nothing so 'wrong' with a child,that should ever prompt a parent to consider sending them to this private, run for-profit juvenile prison that masquerades itself as an amenities rich 'care facility'.
I'd like to, at this time, remain anonymous unless and until a class action suit or other suitable remedy is ever pursued, but feel free to post my story on your website. Your doing a good thing exposing these adolescent gulags to the world - as much as they like to claim and aggrandize their success stories about their 'students' going on to become doctors and such,for every one of those kids - there's probably 20 kids that were terribly ruined by them who's stories they don't post on their slick web sites.
Sources:
I had the 'pleasure' of being sent to this place when I was around 11 or 12,in 1992 or '93. My stay there was cut short, thank God, because my stepfather, a Navy man, was being transferred out of state.
First of all we'll start with the glamorous brochures and outlandish claims of lavish accommodations afforded the 'students' at their 'school'. I was,at the time, in an acute care mental facility for children and adolescents in Rhode Island, diagnosed with bipolar disorder, when discussions for my future care were being held by all concerned.
Somehow,Devereux Glenholme was included. With glossy brochures featuring pictures of go-kart tracks (that I'd never get to use) and ice cream shops, they lured me in. Nothing but a shameless sales pitch.
Well,the first week I was there I was on the phone to my mother,desperately begging for her to come get me out of there. It all started with the 'discipline' regime which involved, as another poster had said, having to stand behind your chair at mealtimes and having to march around single file, not allowed to speak or anything- but that really wasn't too bad compared to what had me on the phone.
One morning,I was accosted by two older, bigger (I was 11 or 12) 15-16 year old boys who, wearing blankets, gave me a 'blanket party' while I was still in bed. Kids will be kids,right? But this happened in the full view of a staff member who watched the entire thing happen,without intervening - this staff member being a full grown man - he watched as a boy older and bigger than me climbed onto the top bunk with me and punched me repeatedly in the face and head. This man said he wouldn't intervene because it could expose him to liability. What a coward. More fun at Devereux Glenholme included finding my suitcase with my belongings rifled through and vandalized in their basement of one of their oh-so-lovely 'cottages'.
Apparently, Glenholme places more emphasis on collecting its hundred + thousand a year 'tuition' than on protecting the wellbeing or the property of the 'students' who they collect it from. Also there were the little tile rooms - probably the most egregious of offenses to humanity and sanity that Devereux Glenholme had to offer in my stay with them. They had several of these rooms - not included in the information in what can only be described as their sales brochures,to be sure - all across their campus, about the size of a small bathroom. These rooms were covered from floor to ceiling with tile,they were dimly lit and featured a door with no handle on the inside and a drain in the center of the room. Oftentimes,I was placed in one of these rooms and there was excrement left in them from children who had been held in them before.
Just as the poster above mentioned - they didn't let you out of there for hours for anything; bathroom,water,food,etc. Yes - these criminals denied children access to basic human needs. And an interesting note was that at the time,or so I was told, it was illegal in the state of Connecticut to lock a child in a room using an actual deadbolt or other fastening device, so they used to have the older kids act as 'holders', or in other words,they would throw a kid in one of these holes, and have another child hold the door shut so that you could not get out.
Speculatively, one can imagine what the 'holder' could get away with regarding tormenting the child he was keeping in the room when he was unsupervised- perhaps even while he was supervised,given the manner in which staff dealt with even physical assaults between the children as I have described above.
As to the 'amenities' at Devereux Glenholme - I was there maybe 9 months. Not once was I allowed to use the go-karts,the track seemed to never get used either. The pool - interestingly,if you look at their website, its the same one they had there back when I was incarcerated there in the early 90s, and looks like it was built in the 70s - I got to use once. For maybe 15 minutes. I don't recall the horses there, but I'll tell you, just like all the other 'amenities' at Glenholme, those horses are just there to entice people to pay them to take their kids.
Most of the time we were either in what they call 'classrooms',or the 'cottages', or we were being forced to participate in some form of what they called 'leisure activities', which was just more excersize in 'discipline', as 'leisure' meant doing things like practicing square dancing or other horribly dull and droll (square dancing, for kids? seriously?) 'activities' that if you didn't participate in,and with a 'good attitude'- see above about the little tile rooms.
As for 'therapy' sessions - I remember one 'session' in particular that was being led by a so-called 'councilor', the exercise was to compose a 'group rap'. So we all had to sit around and make rap lyrics. How therapeutic. Devereux Glenholme, as I remember it,was a nightmare. There is nothing a child can do, nothing so 'wrong' with a child,that should ever prompt a parent to consider sending them to this private, run for-profit juvenile prison that masquerades itself as an amenities rich 'care facility'.
I'd like to, at this time, remain anonymous unless and until a class action suit or other suitable remedy is ever pursued, but feel free to post my story on your website. Your doing a good thing exposing these adolescent gulags to the world - as much as they like to claim and aggrandize their success stories about their 'students' going on to become doctors and such,for every one of those kids - there's probably 20 kids that were terribly ruined by them who's stories they don't post on their slick web sites.
Sources:
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Skyyhigh at Island View
I was a resident at Island View RTC for thirteen months between 2000 and 2001.
I was sent there for skipping school, experimenting with drugs, and sneaking out of the house- normal teenage stuff, right?
It all started when I was woke up in the middle of the night by teo "escorts" who explained that they were taking me to s special school for a while. I was too sleepy at the time to put up a fight, but in retrospect I should have run away from them right then- I had no idea the hell I was about to be put through. When I arrived at Island view I was placed on the green team.
My therapist was Seth Geisler, and our team director was Jennifer VanBuskirk.I felt that their purpose was to use whatever means necessary (seclusion, sensory deprivation) to brainwash me into subscribing to their golden way of life. I had many takedowns, sometimes for just making rude comments. I was hummiliated, strip searched, locked in the "time out room" (one of three prison cells they had at the time, before I left they built yet another one!).
I was also made to sit at my desk staring at a white wall all day everyday for weeks. At this point I had no hope. I dreampt up elaborate "escape plans" of how to get out of Island View and live my life on the run. I wished for god to kill mr everynight as I lay in bead waiting for the heavy tranquilizers to send me to a better place, untill the rooster came around to yell and flip on the bright flouresent lights at 6 in the morning. Since arriving at Island View my behavior and grades reached an all time low.
They transfered me to purple team near the end of my stay because I had become a "negetive peer".I felt imprisoned and hopeless and didn't even try in school. I tried to daydream the days away to briefly escape from that terrible place. To this day I have nightmares that I'm still locked up in that place, in the tiny, cold timeout room wigth the door locked. I remember being tackled by huge clean cut mormon "houseparents". Their primary purpose was to serve as guards so that no one could escape.
I could go on forever about what a terrible place that is but there isnt space or time. I would be interested in communicating from anyone else on green team or any other former residents with similar experiences.
Sources:
I was sent there for skipping school, experimenting with drugs, and sneaking out of the house- normal teenage stuff, right?
It all started when I was woke up in the middle of the night by teo "escorts" who explained that they were taking me to s special school for a while. I was too sleepy at the time to put up a fight, but in retrospect I should have run away from them right then- I had no idea the hell I was about to be put through. When I arrived at Island view I was placed on the green team.
My therapist was Seth Geisler, and our team director was Jennifer VanBuskirk.I felt that their purpose was to use whatever means necessary (seclusion, sensory deprivation) to brainwash me into subscribing to their golden way of life. I had many takedowns, sometimes for just making rude comments. I was hummiliated, strip searched, locked in the "time out room" (one of three prison cells they had at the time, before I left they built yet another one!).
I was also made to sit at my desk staring at a white wall all day everyday for weeks. At this point I had no hope. I dreampt up elaborate "escape plans" of how to get out of Island View and live my life on the run. I wished for god to kill mr everynight as I lay in bead waiting for the heavy tranquilizers to send me to a better place, untill the rooster came around to yell and flip on the bright flouresent lights at 6 in the morning. Since arriving at Island View my behavior and grades reached an all time low.
They transfered me to purple team near the end of my stay because I had become a "negetive peer".I felt imprisoned and hopeless and didn't even try in school. I tried to daydream the days away to briefly escape from that terrible place. To this day I have nightmares that I'm still locked up in that place, in the tiny, cold timeout room wigth the door locked. I remember being tackled by huge clean cut mormon "houseparents". Their primary purpose was to serve as guards so that no one could escape.
I could go on forever about what a terrible place that is but there isnt space or time. I would be interested in communicating from anyone else on green team or any other former residents with similar experiences.
Sources:
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Statement from a former patient at the Judge Rotenberg Center
This statement was given by a former patient at the Judge Rotenberg Center. It was published on the Autistic Hoya webpage. All rights belong to the former patient, who wishes to remain unnamed.
The Board
By: xxx
December 2012
The most sickening, horrifying experience of my life was being shocked on the restraint board. What is the board? It is a large, door sized contraption made out of hard plastic, with locking restraint cuffs on each corner where your wrists and ankles get locked in. Your body becomes stretched spread eagle style, pinned tight, rendering you completely helpless, combined with an overwhelming feeling of vulnerability. It is a torture that you would expect to see in a horror movie. The kind that makes you cringe and scream while you watch. The kind you cant get out of your head even a after it’s over. Only this was happening for real, to me.
They added the restraint board, which for me was 5 shocks over 10 minutes to my program after a few months, which means getting shocked 5 different times, over a period of 10 minutes for having just one single behavior. If you have just one of those behaviors on your sheet, which can be getting out of your seat without permission (even without doing anything violent), tensing your body, anything they decide to put in your program. A behavior is anything you do that JRC considers a problem. Anything from hitting your head, to talking to yourself, saying a swear word, rocking, even screaming from fear and pain of the shocks, is a "behavior". The staff grab you, put you in restraints, walk or drag you to where the board is kept (usually right in the middle of the classroom with all the other students watching and stepping around you), and than restrain you to the board. Arms and legs locked in. Then the terror starts. You have to wait for it. You never know when it's coming. The staff shocking you usually hides behind a door or desk so you can not see them. JRC lavishes in the element of surprise when shocking us. Then all of a sudden the searing pain and jolt in your arm or leg or stomach, or sometimes even the fingertips or thigh or even bottom of your feet. Whichever part of the body gets shocked, it will travel throughout. If you get shocked in your arm, for example, it is not a "hard pinch" it is a radiating electricity that will travel from your bicep through to your fingertips. Your whole arm jerks against the restraints, causing added pain from your muscles being forced to contract against being tied up. The loud screech of the device goes off with it, and they say, "(name) there is no tensing up". One down, 4 to go. Your heart races immediately, and you sweat profusely. All you want to do is throw up. That ten minutes feels like hours. You try to prepare yourself for the next shock. I keep saying in my head, 4 more, 4 more. Please just finish please. Trying not to scream in fear because i will be shocked for that as well. It comes again without warning, next time maybe in your stomach, the stabbing pain runs from left to right, right to left, across your belly button area. Your stomach heaves in and you lose your breath. More sweat now. Your heart beats faster now than you can feel possible. I start to hope my heart stops. Anything to let me away from this. 3 more. But now it's even harder, I don't feel I can take any more of this torture. Besides the pain, it's the panic and fear in your mind. There were times when I peed on myself. One particular time I was put on the board for hitting my head the night before. They said because the staff did not "follow my program". They put me on the board. They shocked me repeatedly in the stomach. And when they finally got to 5, I thought "it's over". But then they didn't take me off the board. They gave me a 6th, than 7th, than 8th. They kept going. I was so filled with fear, not knowing what was happening or when they would ever stop. I went away in my head. I started floating. I had no more tears left. When they finally stopped after 10, they sent other staff in to "change my batteries". When they lifted the electrodes off of my stomach, it was stuck. They had to pull because it had burned into my skin. I still have those scars on my stomach. When they took the devices off of me to test them, I was still strapped to the board. Every time I heard the noise from the test, I cried and panicked. The staff attempted to comfort me, she whispered to me so they wouldn't hear her, because any kind of comforting is never allowed. I was shocked on the board on many separate occasions. One time for something I never even did.
I lived this. These things happened. These things were done to me and I witnessed them done to many others.
Sources:
The Board
By: xxx
December 2012
The most sickening, horrifying experience of my life was being shocked on the restraint board. What is the board? It is a large, door sized contraption made out of hard plastic, with locking restraint cuffs on each corner where your wrists and ankles get locked in. Your body becomes stretched spread eagle style, pinned tight, rendering you completely helpless, combined with an overwhelming feeling of vulnerability. It is a torture that you would expect to see in a horror movie. The kind that makes you cringe and scream while you watch. The kind you cant get out of your head even a after it’s over. Only this was happening for real, to me.
They added the restraint board, which for me was 5 shocks over 10 minutes to my program after a few months, which means getting shocked 5 different times, over a period of 10 minutes for having just one single behavior. If you have just one of those behaviors on your sheet, which can be getting out of your seat without permission (even without doing anything violent), tensing your body, anything they decide to put in your program. A behavior is anything you do that JRC considers a problem. Anything from hitting your head, to talking to yourself, saying a swear word, rocking, even screaming from fear and pain of the shocks, is a "behavior". The staff grab you, put you in restraints, walk or drag you to where the board is kept (usually right in the middle of the classroom with all the other students watching and stepping around you), and than restrain you to the board. Arms and legs locked in. Then the terror starts. You have to wait for it. You never know when it's coming. The staff shocking you usually hides behind a door or desk so you can not see them. JRC lavishes in the element of surprise when shocking us. Then all of a sudden the searing pain and jolt in your arm or leg or stomach, or sometimes even the fingertips or thigh or even bottom of your feet. Whichever part of the body gets shocked, it will travel throughout. If you get shocked in your arm, for example, it is not a "hard pinch" it is a radiating electricity that will travel from your bicep through to your fingertips. Your whole arm jerks against the restraints, causing added pain from your muscles being forced to contract against being tied up. The loud screech of the device goes off with it, and they say, "(name) there is no tensing up". One down, 4 to go. Your heart races immediately, and you sweat profusely. All you want to do is throw up. That ten minutes feels like hours. You try to prepare yourself for the next shock. I keep saying in my head, 4 more, 4 more. Please just finish please. Trying not to scream in fear because i will be shocked for that as well. It comes again without warning, next time maybe in your stomach, the stabbing pain runs from left to right, right to left, across your belly button area. Your stomach heaves in and you lose your breath. More sweat now. Your heart beats faster now than you can feel possible. I start to hope my heart stops. Anything to let me away from this. 3 more. But now it's even harder, I don't feel I can take any more of this torture. Besides the pain, it's the panic and fear in your mind. There were times when I peed on myself. One particular time I was put on the board for hitting my head the night before. They said because the staff did not "follow my program". They put me on the board. They shocked me repeatedly in the stomach. And when they finally got to 5, I thought "it's over". But then they didn't take me off the board. They gave me a 6th, than 7th, than 8th. They kept going. I was so filled with fear, not knowing what was happening or when they would ever stop. I went away in my head. I started floating. I had no more tears left. When they finally stopped after 10, they sent other staff in to "change my batteries". When they lifted the electrodes off of my stomach, it was stuck. They had to pull because it had burned into my skin. I still have those scars on my stomach. When they took the devices off of me to test them, I was still strapped to the board. Every time I heard the noise from the test, I cried and panicked. The staff attempted to comfort me, she whispered to me so they wouldn't hear her, because any kind of comforting is never allowed. I was shocked on the board on many separate occasions. One time for something I never even did.
I lived this. These things happened. These things were done to me and I witnessed them done to many others.
Sources:
Sunday, September 15, 2013
From a former patient at Judge Rotenberg Center
This statement can be read in a public letter published on the Autistic Hoya webpage. All rights belongs to the former patient who wishes to remain unnamed.
Dear Ms. Weiss
Hello my name is xxx. I was told you are someone I can talk to in confidence and be safe. I would like to share with you my letter that I wrote to the FDA about life inside JRC and on the GEDs. It was torture being there. And I suffered so much. I am still tormented. Here is my letter of testimony:
My name is xxx and I attended the Judge Rotenberg Center. I am writing to ask you to please reconsider your approval of the GED for use on ANY human being. I was placed on the GED about 2 months after arriving. I started out on the GED-1, and during my last few years I was placed on the GED-4. There are so many of us that were tortured with these devices, this “treatment”. I believe the reason why more ex-students haven’t spoken out is because they are either non-verbal, afraid, or believe that no one cares about us or it will not make a difference. Parents and families that speak and rally in favor of the GED, are not the ones who have to experience it, the pain and anxiety, day after day for years on end.
The GED IS harmful. Even the GED-1. I was burned many times, and I still have scars on my stomach from being repeatedly shocked there, by the FDA approved GED-1. The electrodes had actually burned into my skin. I experienced long term loss of sensation and numbness in my lower left leg, after getting a shock there. I felt searing pain all the way down to the bottom of my foot, and was left with no feeling in my skin from the knee down for about a year. Again, this was with the GED-1. After complaining to JRC nursing about my leg, they told me to tell the Neurologist about it during a follow up visit for a suspected seizure. He asked the staff what that device was on my leg, and they explained to him it was an electrode. After their explanation, the Neurologist said, “Well, I don’t know what that thing is, but it needs to come off.” JRC left the device off my leg for about a year, then decided on their own, without sending me back to a Neurologist, it was ok to put it back. I have seen students with torso electrodes accidentally placed on their spine area, get a shock there and be violently bent backwards.
Also, I would like you to know that the devices have a tendency to malfunction and go off all by themselves. JRC refers to this as a “misapplication”. It happened to me and other students so many times I cannot count. Sometimes the GED’s will just start to go off and shock you by themselves. Other times the staff shock one student but the remote can also set off someone else’s device at the same time. I have also gotten accidentally shocked from staff mixing up my device with another student’s device, shocking me instead. Then there are the times when staff intentionally misuse the GED. I have had a staff who became angry with me and started pushing more than one remote at a time, shocking me several places on my body at once. I have had staff intentionally give me shocks for things I didn’t do in places like the bus where there was no camera to prove it. I have had numerous staff over my years there threaten me with a GED, antagonize me to try and get me to have a behavior they can then shock me for, merely for the sport of it. Staff can and DO use the GED to scare non-verbal students into doing what they want them to by pretending they are about to shock them. Some even laugh when they do this.
Many of the things I and others get shocked for at JRC were very small things. They would often shock us for things simply because staff found them annoying and they would keep writing therapy notes until our psychologist added it to our program. I got shocked for tic like body movements, for which I have no control over, and which don't hurt me or anybody else. I would be shocked for waving my hand in front of my face for more than 5 seconds, for closing my ears with my fingers, which I do when things get too loud, because I cannot tolerate too much noise. I would be shocked for wrapping my foot around the leg of my chair, for tensing up my body or my fingers, and the list goes on and on. There was a period of time where I and many of the other students were getting shocked for having 5 verbal behaviors in an hour. A verbal behavior is a minor behavior like talking to yourself, noises (such as clearing your throat), or talking without permission. Every hour would start a new block. And if you were pinpointed more than 4 times in that hour, on the 5th you would get a shock, and then for EVERY minor verbal behavior after that you would be shocked. If you talked out a 6th time, shock. If you had to go to the bathroom, and you had to go really bad, but you asked more then once, that would be nagging, which is a verbal behavior. And these were the things we were getting shocked for. My program was this way for a while. Some of my verbal behaviors I got pinpointed for were crying, talking to myself (even quietly), noises, laughing, humming, repeating myself and inappropriate tone of voice (which was based on staff's opinion of how my voice should sound). Almost every time I spoke or answered a question, I was pinpointed with these behaviors. My reaction was to stop speaking, but they also made part of my program that if I didn't answer staff in 5 seconds, I would automatically be shocked. I was paralyzed with fear every day. No matter what I did I was doomed. I ask those who read my letter to think to themselves about how often they do some of these things while they are working. Twirl their pens, talk to yourself or think out loud, ask a question to someone nearby, hum a song that's in your head, laugh at something funny in the room. These are things humans do. And they are not harmful. Yet we were being subjected to terrible pain and fear for doing these simple things. One day, out of the blue, the case managers went through the building and scratched off this punishment from all their students recording sheets. They didn't say anything to us about it, just made it like it never happened. Although I can't say for sure, I overheard talk that one of the male students had told his lawyer and family they were shocking him for talking, and that JRC was never supposed to be allowed to do that to us. Whatever the reason, they covered it up fast. And even though they stopped, they still need to be held accountable for all of it. Because it went on for a very long time, and I suffered greatly because of it. People NEED to know these things happened.
There was a time when I was there that I was on the portion program. This is where JRC starves you as a punishment for having a behavior. For example, my first plan was that for every time I had a minor behavior, such as talking to myself, rocking, wiggling my fingers, I would lose a part of my next meal. My meals came to the classroom cut into tiny pieces and divided into portions inside of a little plastic cup. Every time I had one of these little behaviors, I was forced to stand up and throw one cup away. There were many days I would lose most of my meals. And the hungrier I got, the more frantic and restless my body became. This caused me to have more behaviors like tics and rocking, and in turn I would lose more food. My mind clouded and I could no longer concentrate. I would often become so frustrated from this I would end up hurting myself. At the end of the day, at 7pm, I was offered "LOP" (loss of privilege) food. This was made intentionally to be completely unappetizing. It was ice cold, and it was made up of chicken chunks, mash potato, spinach, and then doused with liver powder, then set to sit in the refrigerator for days. The smell alone made me sick. And I never once was able to eat it, no matter how hungry I got.
It was very difficult to sleep at JRC. There are several alarms in the room and over the bed. Every time someone moved in bed it would set a loud alarm off that could be heard throughout the house. Most of us on GED's had to sleep with the devices on. That means locks and straps that get all tangled around you and make it very hard to lay down in a comfortable way. I was very anxious to close my eyes, always fearing a shock for something I might not have even known I did. My fears came true one day, and I was given a GED-4 shock while I was asleep. It was not explained to me why I got this shock. I was terrified and angry. I was crying. I kept asking why? And they kept telling me "No talking out". After a few minutes Monitoring called, and told the staff to shock me again for "Loud, repetitive, disruptive talking out." The next day I asked the supervisor why I had gotten that GED. And she explained that staff had found a small piece of plastic in my self-care box, which contained my shampoo bottles etc, and that they considered this a hidden weapon. I could not believe it. I did not hide anything in my self-care box. I had not done anything wrong. Yet I was shocked for it, and worse off in my sleep. That piece of plastic, of which I was never shown, had probably broken off of one of the plastic containers inside the box. And I was severely punished for this. After this incident I really stopped sleeping. Every time I closed my eyes they would jump open, anticipating that jolt somewhere in my body.
I truly believe that the judges that approve us for the GED have no idea what it really is like. All they have to go on is what JRC claims. The GED does not feel like a “hard pinch” or a “bee sting.” It is a horrible pain that causes your muscles to contract very hard, leaving you sore afterward. I would often have a limp for one or two days after receiving a GED. The devices JRC puts on us are not the same ones they show to the outside world when they let outsiders try the GED. Students wear a different electrode, a long one with 2 metal electrodes that radiate the electricity across a large area.
Besides the physical pain, life with GEDs is a life of constant anxiety. I experienced heart palpitations daily, had a very hard time sleeping and eating, and became rather paranoid, always wondering if I was about to get shocked and constantly alert in all directions. I eventually became very depressed there and contemplated suicide every night. Now, after having been gone almost 4 years, I am still having nightmares and flashbacks during the day, especially when I hear certain noises that remind me of GEDs and JRC.
I want to mention, similar to many other students, I was also tied to the 4-point restraint board and given multiple shocks for a single behavior. And if I screamed out in fear while on the board, I would be shocked for that as well. I was shocked for behaviors I had no control over, such as tensing up and tic-like body movements. We were always having to watch others getting shocked in the room. Hearing others scream, cry, beg to not be shocked. Students would scream “I’m sorry, No, Please!!” all day. I, like other students, would cringe and feel sick and helpless while watching others getting shocked. I was so anxious about getting shocked that I would many times bang my head just to get it over with. The GED often was the cause of my behavior problems. The students that get shocked the most at JRC are non-verbal. So they cannot speak up. I feel that just because we were born different, we are not given the same rights to be protected from tortures like the GED.
We are at the mercy of guardians and judges. When I was brought to court to be approved for the GED, I was not told where we were going or why. I was brought into the courtroom wearing a helmet and restraints on my wrists and ankles. I was not questioned by the judge. All he had to go on was my appearance in those restraints, testimony from JRC officials, and charts of provoked behaviors. These behaviors came from being forced to sit in isolation with a straight upright posture, in the center of a hard restraint board, day after day, week after week, for two months. I received no real help and no socialization. For those two months I was not allowed to sit in a chair, at the classroom or residence. I was to sit on the board. Also, JRC provoked me by not allowing me to shower during those two months. Instead of showers, I was bathed tied to a restraint board, naked, while staff washed me, putting their hands all over me. All in front of cameras, where Monitoring watched, including men. Being tied on a restraint board, naked, with my private areas exposed to the staff in the bathroom and the cameras was the most horrible, vulnerable, frightening experience for me. I would scream out “rape, rape!” And these were recorded as major behaviors for me. When I first arrived at JRC, I was immediately subjected to humiliation and provocation by them forcing me to wear a diaper. I in NO WAY needed or have ever needed a diaper as an adult. I am completely independent in all toilet and hygiene skills. And they knew that. I had NEVER worn a diaper up until that day, except of course when I was a little baby. And that is exactly how they made me feel, like a little baby. I was embarrassed and confused and angry. I took that diaper off constantly. When I would take the diaper off they would mark that down on my chart that they would later show the judge as destructive behavior. I would often get restrained on the 4 point board for taking off the diaper and fighting staff not to make me put it back on. In these ways and more, JRC provoked many behaviors in me that were shown on a chart to the judge. There is no way the judge could know what was provoking my behaviors. JRC told the judges that their program was the only thing that could help me. That theirs is the only last resort treatment.
I was considered a difficult case. I would like you to know that I am doing very well in a new program that is nothing like JRC. I don’t get shocked or put in restraints, and I am given help by staff and doctors that I can talk to. I am not drugged up as JRC claims I would be if I left. JRC made no attempt to understand me. Feelings do not matter to JRC and we were specifically not allowed to express them. I felt like an animal test subject there. My new program does not punish me for my problems, that are the result of having Aspergers Syndrome. I have gotten so much better from getting real help instead of constant punishment and pain.
I ask you to please investigate carefully into the GED. The ones that are actually being used on the students, not the samples JRC provides, as I have experienced them to be extremely manipulative in all things. There are no doctors overseeing us with the GED. Every few years they would drive me to a doctors office near Framingham, Ma, and not tell me why. In his office he would literally walk in, say hi how are you, and before you can answer he has signed their papers and you are shown the door.
I have attached with this email a document I wrote called “The Board” which is about one of JRC’s worst tortures that they used on me and others. I wrote it so that outsiders can feel what we feel, and hopefully to help others understand the agony of GED treatment. I invite you to read it, and I hope it will share a new perspective for you, the perspective of the ones that should matter the most, the human beings on which these devices are being used.
Sincerely,
xxx
Source:
Judge Rotenberg Center Survivor's Letter (The Autistic Hoya webpage)
Dear Ms. Weiss
Hello my name is xxx. I was told you are someone I can talk to in confidence and be safe. I would like to share with you my letter that I wrote to the FDA about life inside JRC and on the GEDs. It was torture being there. And I suffered so much. I am still tormented. Here is my letter of testimony:
My name is xxx and I attended the Judge Rotenberg Center. I am writing to ask you to please reconsider your approval of the GED for use on ANY human being. I was placed on the GED about 2 months after arriving. I started out on the GED-1, and during my last few years I was placed on the GED-4. There are so many of us that were tortured with these devices, this “treatment”. I believe the reason why more ex-students haven’t spoken out is because they are either non-verbal, afraid, or believe that no one cares about us or it will not make a difference. Parents and families that speak and rally in favor of the GED, are not the ones who have to experience it, the pain and anxiety, day after day for years on end.
The GED IS harmful. Even the GED-1. I was burned many times, and I still have scars on my stomach from being repeatedly shocked there, by the FDA approved GED-1. The electrodes had actually burned into my skin. I experienced long term loss of sensation and numbness in my lower left leg, after getting a shock there. I felt searing pain all the way down to the bottom of my foot, and was left with no feeling in my skin from the knee down for about a year. Again, this was with the GED-1. After complaining to JRC nursing about my leg, they told me to tell the Neurologist about it during a follow up visit for a suspected seizure. He asked the staff what that device was on my leg, and they explained to him it was an electrode. After their explanation, the Neurologist said, “Well, I don’t know what that thing is, but it needs to come off.” JRC left the device off my leg for about a year, then decided on their own, without sending me back to a Neurologist, it was ok to put it back. I have seen students with torso electrodes accidentally placed on their spine area, get a shock there and be violently bent backwards.
Also, I would like you to know that the devices have a tendency to malfunction and go off all by themselves. JRC refers to this as a “misapplication”. It happened to me and other students so many times I cannot count. Sometimes the GED’s will just start to go off and shock you by themselves. Other times the staff shock one student but the remote can also set off someone else’s device at the same time. I have also gotten accidentally shocked from staff mixing up my device with another student’s device, shocking me instead. Then there are the times when staff intentionally misuse the GED. I have had a staff who became angry with me and started pushing more than one remote at a time, shocking me several places on my body at once. I have had staff intentionally give me shocks for things I didn’t do in places like the bus where there was no camera to prove it. I have had numerous staff over my years there threaten me with a GED, antagonize me to try and get me to have a behavior they can then shock me for, merely for the sport of it. Staff can and DO use the GED to scare non-verbal students into doing what they want them to by pretending they are about to shock them. Some even laugh when they do this.
Many of the things I and others get shocked for at JRC were very small things. They would often shock us for things simply because staff found them annoying and they would keep writing therapy notes until our psychologist added it to our program. I got shocked for tic like body movements, for which I have no control over, and which don't hurt me or anybody else. I would be shocked for waving my hand in front of my face for more than 5 seconds, for closing my ears with my fingers, which I do when things get too loud, because I cannot tolerate too much noise. I would be shocked for wrapping my foot around the leg of my chair, for tensing up my body or my fingers, and the list goes on and on. There was a period of time where I and many of the other students were getting shocked for having 5 verbal behaviors in an hour. A verbal behavior is a minor behavior like talking to yourself, noises (such as clearing your throat), or talking without permission. Every hour would start a new block. And if you were pinpointed more than 4 times in that hour, on the 5th you would get a shock, and then for EVERY minor verbal behavior after that you would be shocked. If you talked out a 6th time, shock. If you had to go to the bathroom, and you had to go really bad, but you asked more then once, that would be nagging, which is a verbal behavior. And these were the things we were getting shocked for. My program was this way for a while. Some of my verbal behaviors I got pinpointed for were crying, talking to myself (even quietly), noises, laughing, humming, repeating myself and inappropriate tone of voice (which was based on staff's opinion of how my voice should sound). Almost every time I spoke or answered a question, I was pinpointed with these behaviors. My reaction was to stop speaking, but they also made part of my program that if I didn't answer staff in 5 seconds, I would automatically be shocked. I was paralyzed with fear every day. No matter what I did I was doomed. I ask those who read my letter to think to themselves about how often they do some of these things while they are working. Twirl their pens, talk to yourself or think out loud, ask a question to someone nearby, hum a song that's in your head, laugh at something funny in the room. These are things humans do. And they are not harmful. Yet we were being subjected to terrible pain and fear for doing these simple things. One day, out of the blue, the case managers went through the building and scratched off this punishment from all their students recording sheets. They didn't say anything to us about it, just made it like it never happened. Although I can't say for sure, I overheard talk that one of the male students had told his lawyer and family they were shocking him for talking, and that JRC was never supposed to be allowed to do that to us. Whatever the reason, they covered it up fast. And even though they stopped, they still need to be held accountable for all of it. Because it went on for a very long time, and I suffered greatly because of it. People NEED to know these things happened.
There was a time when I was there that I was on the portion program. This is where JRC starves you as a punishment for having a behavior. For example, my first plan was that for every time I had a minor behavior, such as talking to myself, rocking, wiggling my fingers, I would lose a part of my next meal. My meals came to the classroom cut into tiny pieces and divided into portions inside of a little plastic cup. Every time I had one of these little behaviors, I was forced to stand up and throw one cup away. There were many days I would lose most of my meals. And the hungrier I got, the more frantic and restless my body became. This caused me to have more behaviors like tics and rocking, and in turn I would lose more food. My mind clouded and I could no longer concentrate. I would often become so frustrated from this I would end up hurting myself. At the end of the day, at 7pm, I was offered "LOP" (loss of privilege) food. This was made intentionally to be completely unappetizing. It was ice cold, and it was made up of chicken chunks, mash potato, spinach, and then doused with liver powder, then set to sit in the refrigerator for days. The smell alone made me sick. And I never once was able to eat it, no matter how hungry I got.
It was very difficult to sleep at JRC. There are several alarms in the room and over the bed. Every time someone moved in bed it would set a loud alarm off that could be heard throughout the house. Most of us on GED's had to sleep with the devices on. That means locks and straps that get all tangled around you and make it very hard to lay down in a comfortable way. I was very anxious to close my eyes, always fearing a shock for something I might not have even known I did. My fears came true one day, and I was given a GED-4 shock while I was asleep. It was not explained to me why I got this shock. I was terrified and angry. I was crying. I kept asking why? And they kept telling me "No talking out". After a few minutes Monitoring called, and told the staff to shock me again for "Loud, repetitive, disruptive talking out." The next day I asked the supervisor why I had gotten that GED. And she explained that staff had found a small piece of plastic in my self-care box, which contained my shampoo bottles etc, and that they considered this a hidden weapon. I could not believe it. I did not hide anything in my self-care box. I had not done anything wrong. Yet I was shocked for it, and worse off in my sleep. That piece of plastic, of which I was never shown, had probably broken off of one of the plastic containers inside the box. And I was severely punished for this. After this incident I really stopped sleeping. Every time I closed my eyes they would jump open, anticipating that jolt somewhere in my body.
I truly believe that the judges that approve us for the GED have no idea what it really is like. All they have to go on is what JRC claims. The GED does not feel like a “hard pinch” or a “bee sting.” It is a horrible pain that causes your muscles to contract very hard, leaving you sore afterward. I would often have a limp for one or two days after receiving a GED. The devices JRC puts on us are not the same ones they show to the outside world when they let outsiders try the GED. Students wear a different electrode, a long one with 2 metal electrodes that radiate the electricity across a large area.
Besides the physical pain, life with GEDs is a life of constant anxiety. I experienced heart palpitations daily, had a very hard time sleeping and eating, and became rather paranoid, always wondering if I was about to get shocked and constantly alert in all directions. I eventually became very depressed there and contemplated suicide every night. Now, after having been gone almost 4 years, I am still having nightmares and flashbacks during the day, especially when I hear certain noises that remind me of GEDs and JRC.
I want to mention, similar to many other students, I was also tied to the 4-point restraint board and given multiple shocks for a single behavior. And if I screamed out in fear while on the board, I would be shocked for that as well. I was shocked for behaviors I had no control over, such as tensing up and tic-like body movements. We were always having to watch others getting shocked in the room. Hearing others scream, cry, beg to not be shocked. Students would scream “I’m sorry, No, Please!!” all day. I, like other students, would cringe and feel sick and helpless while watching others getting shocked. I was so anxious about getting shocked that I would many times bang my head just to get it over with. The GED often was the cause of my behavior problems. The students that get shocked the most at JRC are non-verbal. So they cannot speak up. I feel that just because we were born different, we are not given the same rights to be protected from tortures like the GED.
We are at the mercy of guardians and judges. When I was brought to court to be approved for the GED, I was not told where we were going or why. I was brought into the courtroom wearing a helmet and restraints on my wrists and ankles. I was not questioned by the judge. All he had to go on was my appearance in those restraints, testimony from JRC officials, and charts of provoked behaviors. These behaviors came from being forced to sit in isolation with a straight upright posture, in the center of a hard restraint board, day after day, week after week, for two months. I received no real help and no socialization. For those two months I was not allowed to sit in a chair, at the classroom or residence. I was to sit on the board. Also, JRC provoked me by not allowing me to shower during those two months. Instead of showers, I was bathed tied to a restraint board, naked, while staff washed me, putting their hands all over me. All in front of cameras, where Monitoring watched, including men. Being tied on a restraint board, naked, with my private areas exposed to the staff in the bathroom and the cameras was the most horrible, vulnerable, frightening experience for me. I would scream out “rape, rape!” And these were recorded as major behaviors for me. When I first arrived at JRC, I was immediately subjected to humiliation and provocation by them forcing me to wear a diaper. I in NO WAY needed or have ever needed a diaper as an adult. I am completely independent in all toilet and hygiene skills. And they knew that. I had NEVER worn a diaper up until that day, except of course when I was a little baby. And that is exactly how they made me feel, like a little baby. I was embarrassed and confused and angry. I took that diaper off constantly. When I would take the diaper off they would mark that down on my chart that they would later show the judge as destructive behavior. I would often get restrained on the 4 point board for taking off the diaper and fighting staff not to make me put it back on. In these ways and more, JRC provoked many behaviors in me that were shown on a chart to the judge. There is no way the judge could know what was provoking my behaviors. JRC told the judges that their program was the only thing that could help me. That theirs is the only last resort treatment.
I was considered a difficult case. I would like you to know that I am doing very well in a new program that is nothing like JRC. I don’t get shocked or put in restraints, and I am given help by staff and doctors that I can talk to. I am not drugged up as JRC claims I would be if I left. JRC made no attempt to understand me. Feelings do not matter to JRC and we were specifically not allowed to express them. I felt like an animal test subject there. My new program does not punish me for my problems, that are the result of having Aspergers Syndrome. I have gotten so much better from getting real help instead of constant punishment and pain.
I ask you to please investigate carefully into the GED. The ones that are actually being used on the students, not the samples JRC provides, as I have experienced them to be extremely manipulative in all things. There are no doctors overseeing us with the GED. Every few years they would drive me to a doctors office near Framingham, Ma, and not tell me why. In his office he would literally walk in, say hi how are you, and before you can answer he has signed their papers and you are shown the door.
I have attached with this email a document I wrote called “The Board” which is about one of JRC’s worst tortures that they used on me and others. I wrote it so that outsiders can feel what we feel, and hopefully to help others understand the agony of GED treatment. I invite you to read it, and I hope it will share a new perspective for you, the perspective of the ones that should matter the most, the human beings on which these devices are being used.
Sincerely,
xxx
Source:
Judge Rotenberg Center Survivor's Letter (The Autistic Hoya webpage)
Sunday, August 11, 2013
"Guest" at Island View
I just got back from Island View RTC a few months ago, and although it did help me very much, I am finding out now that the program was very easy to "fake".
I am coming out now and finding other past residents of the program and finding that many of them have gone back to old habits such as drugs. I ask them why, and they tell me the same old bullshit about how they brainwashed me at Island View, and how I was incarcerated for a while. But looking back, Island View was a great experience.
Sometimes I don't feel that way, and frankly sometimes I am mad that I was sent there. But I am reassured in the way my life is running now as opposed to the way it was running then. One of the best pieces of advice, however, was to "take what applies to you, forget the rest." For example, if I was the girl whose therapist thought I was a Satanist, I would have done the best I could to ignore whatever he had to say about my "Satanism," and get what good I can from what he says. I gained very much self esteem at Island View, but like they always told me, it is only the beginning of the journey. It continues as you go, and you realize what truly applies and what is complete crap.
Also, I am somewhat angry over the way some of the former staff treated me; they cracked racist jokes, but yelled at me when I did the same; they pushed their political agendas on us...other stuff...but eventually they left, and I could continue with my treatment. The best advice I could possibly give for faulty staff is the Serenity Prayer...accept what you cannot change, change what you cannot accept...something like that...but there was a system of grievances, and had the program not worked out for me, I eventually would have realized that I needed to accept the situation as it was and deal with it. But lucky for me, I gained a lot from this program, and I recommend it to any parent who is having trouble with their child's harmful behavior. But, while it is not perfect, I have been thinking about taking action against some of the corrupt ideals that were at Island View...for example, if this girl really claims she was "touched" by one of the staff, that is totally unacceptable. But rest assured, staff there HAVE been fired for unnacceptable conduct.
As far as I am concerned, the program worked for me, and there was usually a system of checks and balances amongst the staff. But still, sometimes I feel like it was dangerous to have no control over what happened to me. The truth is, I am still trying to figure all this out.
Sources:
I am coming out now and finding other past residents of the program and finding that many of them have gone back to old habits such as drugs. I ask them why, and they tell me the same old bullshit about how they brainwashed me at Island View, and how I was incarcerated for a while. But looking back, Island View was a great experience.
Sometimes I don't feel that way, and frankly sometimes I am mad that I was sent there. But I am reassured in the way my life is running now as opposed to the way it was running then. One of the best pieces of advice, however, was to "take what applies to you, forget the rest." For example, if I was the girl whose therapist thought I was a Satanist, I would have done the best I could to ignore whatever he had to say about my "Satanism," and get what good I can from what he says. I gained very much self esteem at Island View, but like they always told me, it is only the beginning of the journey. It continues as you go, and you realize what truly applies and what is complete crap.
Also, I am somewhat angry over the way some of the former staff treated me; they cracked racist jokes, but yelled at me when I did the same; they pushed their political agendas on us...other stuff...but eventually they left, and I could continue with my treatment. The best advice I could possibly give for faulty staff is the Serenity Prayer...accept what you cannot change, change what you cannot accept...something like that...but there was a system of grievances, and had the program not worked out for me, I eventually would have realized that I needed to accept the situation as it was and deal with it. But lucky for me, I gained a lot from this program, and I recommend it to any parent who is having trouble with their child's harmful behavior. But, while it is not perfect, I have been thinking about taking action against some of the corrupt ideals that were at Island View...for example, if this girl really claims she was "touched" by one of the staff, that is totally unacceptable. But rest assured, staff there HAVE been fired for unnacceptable conduct.
As far as I am concerned, the program worked for me, and there was usually a system of checks and balances amongst the staff. But still, sometimes I feel like it was dangerous to have no control over what happened to me. The truth is, I am still trying to figure all this out.
Sources:
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Popo at Positive Impact (From:Fornits)
This testimony was written on the Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora december 2012. All rights belong to the original author known as Popo
Hi I attended positive impact aka P.I.
I left a year or so before it closed and the best way i could describe the program is surreal. When i left it was almost like i had never been there, like time had just skipped over about a year.
Thankfully I was sent to another program "high frontier" before i turned 18 which i still resented of course but at least it wasn't abusive and they seemed to have good intentions. Positive impacts on the other hand was a HELLHOLE and anyone who tells you different is a TOOL. At times it seemed like that place was actually intended to cause psychological damage. Which kind of fits with their slogan "balance through imbalance" or something like that i don't recall exactly.
Someone mentioned Scientology earlier in the discussion and from what I've read about it the tactics used by both organizations they have a lot in common. there was a lot of emphasis on confessing and wallowing in your "shame" as they called it but this was delved into most deeply in the 4 different workshops which i never attended and oddly enough never even learned much about, despite my being there for nearly a year. No one ever wanted too discuss them and i never really pressed the issue. I did glean secondhand that food/sleep deprivation and confrontational tactics were used but i believe that you could quit if you wanted too. Although it would set you back at least 2 or three months in your schedule.
In an earlier post the user named Brandon mentioned living your truth. Finding your truth was a big thing but i wont go into it because I never did the workshop but your truth is basically a slogan like "I am lovable or I am powerful" there were 5 or six variations of "I am something good." By the way, I remember Brandon I lived with him in oceanography house when i first came to PI and I recall that he was just about the biggest dork i ever met. Not a bad kid, just a weak person. If i remember correctly he once went through the twelve steps for "Loser-ism"... I kid you not. People like Brandon seemed to do well in the program and honestly, I hope hes still doing well.
The whole point of the program was kind of like boot camp or a cult in that they tried their best to break you down psychologically mostly through "positive peer pressure" which is not a bad concept, but was completely perverted by the program. Anyways they try to break you down psychologically and then build you back up into a more acceptable person. This may have been a positive experience for some people as it seems to have been for Brandon. The problem is that some people don't break down so easily so they just keep leaning on you a little more and a little more until you bend or break.
My personal experience was that they leaned on me pretty damn hard until they started doing things that were supposedly against their principles. Such as making me sleep outside (More uncomfortable than dangerous), not letting you speak to anyone, I recall once i was put on rations of water and a few tortillas a meal for about a week(once again it was uncomfortable but i was in no danger of starving to death or even becoming severely nutrient deficient). By far the most common form of punitive pressure was being sent to the "solutions room" which residents universally referred to as the "box". This was either a closet or, in the house i resided in most often, a concrete square maybe 5' by 5' with 4 concrete walls no ceiling and a entrance that did not have a door. In their literature (which they insist you read) the solutions room is supposed to be room where you are placed if you are being violent, aggressive, or just want some time alone. In reality it amounted to indefinite solitary confinement at the staff or the therapists whim.
I was never once violent or anywise aggressive, i consistently complied with every request/order. I followed the rules as well as anyone else yet I still managed to spend at least a third, probably more like half, of my ten or so months sitting in the concrete box often for a week or more at a time (I think my personal record was about twenty days in a stretch). The reason for this being that i declined to participate in the step structure or discuss things of a personal nature. In my time there i basically did the same things that everyone else did i just kind of refused the "treatment" because i didn't appreciate the psychological manipulation.
Thankfully I arrived there with 14 months till my 18th birthday so I knew it was just a matter of waiting it out and since no-one graduates before a year anyways they really had no leverage over me. Actually they got frustrated and John Anderson personally discharged me 4 months early which as far as i know is the only time that had ever happened. My parents lined up another, more civilized, school (The High Frontier) for the remaining four months.
Altogether I think my Experience there was extremely unhealthy for me psychologically. I definitely left more damaged than when I came in. I don't think that the therapists had bad intentions and some of the local staff were great people; but there was no accountability, almost no contact with the outside world, and the whole program was based upon a loose amalgamation of pseudo-psychology and second rate philosophy. From what I've heard, this was not the worst program out there. Nevertheless they did things that were psychologically damaging, not to mention morally wrong.
The facility closed around 2005.
Sources:
Hi I attended positive impact aka P.I.
I left a year or so before it closed and the best way i could describe the program is surreal. When i left it was almost like i had never been there, like time had just skipped over about a year.
Thankfully I was sent to another program "high frontier" before i turned 18 which i still resented of course but at least it wasn't abusive and they seemed to have good intentions. Positive impacts on the other hand was a HELLHOLE and anyone who tells you different is a TOOL. At times it seemed like that place was actually intended to cause psychological damage. Which kind of fits with their slogan "balance through imbalance" or something like that i don't recall exactly.
Someone mentioned Scientology earlier in the discussion and from what I've read about it the tactics used by both organizations they have a lot in common. there was a lot of emphasis on confessing and wallowing in your "shame" as they called it but this was delved into most deeply in the 4 different workshops which i never attended and oddly enough never even learned much about, despite my being there for nearly a year. No one ever wanted too discuss them and i never really pressed the issue. I did glean secondhand that food/sleep deprivation and confrontational tactics were used but i believe that you could quit if you wanted too. Although it would set you back at least 2 or three months in your schedule.
In an earlier post the user named Brandon mentioned living your truth. Finding your truth was a big thing but i wont go into it because I never did the workshop but your truth is basically a slogan like "I am lovable or I am powerful" there were 5 or six variations of "I am something good." By the way, I remember Brandon I lived with him in oceanography house when i first came to PI and I recall that he was just about the biggest dork i ever met. Not a bad kid, just a weak person. If i remember correctly he once went through the twelve steps for "Loser-ism"... I kid you not. People like Brandon seemed to do well in the program and honestly, I hope hes still doing well.
The whole point of the program was kind of like boot camp or a cult in that they tried their best to break you down psychologically mostly through "positive peer pressure" which is not a bad concept, but was completely perverted by the program. Anyways they try to break you down psychologically and then build you back up into a more acceptable person. This may have been a positive experience for some people as it seems to have been for Brandon. The problem is that some people don't break down so easily so they just keep leaning on you a little more and a little more until you bend or break.
My personal experience was that they leaned on me pretty damn hard until they started doing things that were supposedly against their principles. Such as making me sleep outside (More uncomfortable than dangerous), not letting you speak to anyone, I recall once i was put on rations of water and a few tortillas a meal for about a week(once again it was uncomfortable but i was in no danger of starving to death or even becoming severely nutrient deficient). By far the most common form of punitive pressure was being sent to the "solutions room" which residents universally referred to as the "box". This was either a closet or, in the house i resided in most often, a concrete square maybe 5' by 5' with 4 concrete walls no ceiling and a entrance that did not have a door. In their literature (which they insist you read) the solutions room is supposed to be room where you are placed if you are being violent, aggressive, or just want some time alone. In reality it amounted to indefinite solitary confinement at the staff or the therapists whim.
I was never once violent or anywise aggressive, i consistently complied with every request/order. I followed the rules as well as anyone else yet I still managed to spend at least a third, probably more like half, of my ten or so months sitting in the concrete box often for a week or more at a time (I think my personal record was about twenty days in a stretch). The reason for this being that i declined to participate in the step structure or discuss things of a personal nature. In my time there i basically did the same things that everyone else did i just kind of refused the "treatment" because i didn't appreciate the psychological manipulation.
Thankfully I arrived there with 14 months till my 18th birthday so I knew it was just a matter of waiting it out and since no-one graduates before a year anyways they really had no leverage over me. Actually they got frustrated and John Anderson personally discharged me 4 months early which as far as i know is the only time that had ever happened. My parents lined up another, more civilized, school (The High Frontier) for the remaining four months.
Altogether I think my Experience there was extremely unhealthy for me psychologically. I definitely left more damaged than when I came in. I don't think that the therapists had bad intentions and some of the local staff were great people; but there was no accountability, almost no contact with the outside world, and the whole program was based upon a loose amalgamation of pseudo-psychology and second rate philosophy. From what I've heard, this was not the worst program out there. Nevertheless they did things that were psychologically damaging, not to mention morally wrong.
The facility closed around 2005.
Sources:
Saturday, June 15, 2013
More than 25 years later (Sean at the Hannah Neil Center for Children - From CAICA)
Received by CAICA September 10, 2006. All rights belong to the auhtor Sean
Introduction
I was only 9 years old when I was sent to the Hannah Neil Center for Children. Today, I am 35 years old. For me, age 9 was a lifetime ago. However, for some reason, the memories that I have sometimes seem like they only took place yesterday. I have been told that I was lucky because a lot of the children who are sent to behavioral modification facilities do not make it out of there alive. One good thing I think that can come from this is to share my story with others, letting them know that they are not alone. Perhaps, a parent may see this and decide that these places are not one of the best alternatives for their child. I may be a survivor, however I have also been diagnosed with PTSD and major depression because of what I have been though, and will have to live with that for the rest of my life.
How it all started
When I was 3 years old, I was adopted by my grandparents because my mom was not currently working and she was in the process of a divorce with my biological father. As I got older, on the block where I lived, there was no kids who lived on that block, let alone the same street I was on. So basically, all of my life, I was around older people, and could not relate to kids my own age.
When I was sent away
In 1980, I was 9 and in the fourth grade at the time. The committee at my home school voted unanimously to send me to a residential treatment center called the Hannah Neil Center for Children. Ironically my fourth grade teacher, Ms. Makely, was one of those who was active on the committee at that time.
Three infractions at my home school led to this decision. The first one was when a girl in my class brought in a prank ketchup bottle. The girl who did this I had a serious crush on ever since the second grade. A lot of my classmates thought that both of us would have made a great couple. Anyways, she brought this to school, and one day she said my name, I turned around and she squirted it at me. The bottle had retractable red yarn in it, but I didn't know it at the time and I blew up. She told me to look down and nothing was on my shirt.
Looking back, I know that I over reacted. To this day, I don't know exactly why. It's hard to describe. The only way I know how to describe it was that I liked her, I thought she liked me, and I felt embarrassed and humiliated when everyone was standing around laughing. No one else seemed to feel that way. When she did the same to other kids, they laughed and played along. My teacher walked in as this was going on. She didn't take my reaction very well. She even tried telling me "Don't you think she might be doing that to you because she likes you and wants your attention?" Unfortunately, to no avail that did not work for me. Infraction #1: cannot relate to his own peers very well - aggressive and confrontational.
The next infraction was my home school's Halloween parade. We would dress up in costumes and parade in the downtown streets of our town for everyone to watch. I dressed up as Darth Vader that year.
Every year my grandmother would stand at the same spot, right in front of town hall watching to see me and talk to me. I stopped by like I had done every single year, except this year my fourth grade teacher took exception to this. That I never did understand. My first, second, and third grade teacher didn't. It was only my fourth grade teacher who did.
She came running back and said "C'mon, let's go! You're supposed to be in a parade." My grandmother said, "I just wanted to talk to my grandson for a minute." I kept talking to my grandmother and my teacher said, "Now! Let's go! I'm not going to tell you again!" I then turned and looked at my teacher and said "My grandmother wanted to say something to me. I'll catch up with the rest of you."
My teacher was a cowgirl for that year. As I was waiting to hear what my grandmother wanted to say to me, she took her lasso, through it around me as if I was a piece of cattle, and she said "When I say now, I mean NOW! Not an hour, not a few minutes, not even a second. Now means now!", and she dragged me on the ground about 5 feet, right in front of my grandmother and other onlookers. My grandmother just stood there and said "Don't fight her, I'll tell you later when you get home." Infraction #2: insubordination - has problems following orders.
Later in that year, we had a show and tell in our class. One of the classmates who lived in the country decided to bring one of his horses to school. I watched as he was talking about his horse and he was showing others how to ride one, how to steer a horse from left to right, how to pick up speed, how to slow it down, etc. Then, he demonstrated and rode off for, I would say, a few hundred feet in this field that belonged to the school.
As he rode up, everyone came up and pet the horse. I just stood back and watched. My teacher said, "Don't you want to pet the horse?" I said "No." She said, "Why not?" I said, "Because I just don't want to." She then said, "Ah, c'mon! Everyone else is petting the horse." I then said, "Yeah, but I just don't feel like it." She then let out a big sigh and said "Well, guess what? You're going to pet the horse whether you want to or not." She grabbed a hold of my arm, dragged my toward the horse, and having a hold of my wrist, she forced my hand, and moved it across the side of the horse." She said, "There. That wasn't so bad was it? Nothing to be afraid of there." Infraction #3: Defies authority, will not conform - incorrigible.
After that episode is when the school decided that I needed to be sent away to learn how other kids interact, so the school decided that in my best interest, I should be sent to Hannah Neil Center for Children. It was outpatient, which meant I was allowed to come home after school was up, where some had to stay there and live. The first two weeks were the worst. During the first two weeks there, I was beaten up and a victim of same sex assault by one of the classmates. This is what my psychologist believes today is the cause of my PTSD.
At Hannah Neil, they had what were referred to as time out rooms (aka seclusion rooms) with doors that were locked for kids who didn't behave. It was a metal door that was painted red on year, yellow the next, had a square window with shatterproof glass with a grid towards the bottom for ventilation purposes. The door did not have a handle from the inside and could only be opened from the outside. The walls were made of concrete squares, painted white, and both the door and the walls had fingernail scratches on them, which was creepy. My automatic reaction was "I wonder what went on in here to make kids want to get out that badly?" Sometimes walking passed that place, you could hear screams. Nothing like let me out, put high pitched as if someone was being tortured in there. I would tense up and my stomach would knot up everything I walked passed there. Even if the outer door was closed to go into that room where those cells were located, it was just knowing what was there behind that door.
They also had a room which was called the "OT Room" (which stood for the Off Trust Room). This one wasn't quite as creepy as the time out room. It just looked like a vacant office. What was different is the doors would be locked by a key, instead of the surface bolts that were used on the time out room cells, and this room had no lights, unlike the time out rooms. So, if you went in this one, it would be pitch darkness. No windows, no nothing. You were monitored by an infrared camera and communicated with through a speaker in the ceiling and that was it.
I was sent to the Time Out room once for fighting. I was defending myself against another kid who was there for awhile. Because no teachers saw who threw the first punch, both of us had to go. It was for 1 day. You had to take off your shoes, if you wore a belt, you had to take that off as well, and give it to a teacher. They brought your classwork to the room and if you couldn't figure it out for yourself, tough luck. It was your fault that you weren't in class that day when teachers were explaining everything. No scissors, paper clips, staples, pens, pencils, or markers. You had to do your class work in black crayon. They brought lunch for you in styrofoam containers with plastic forks, knifes, and spoons. You had to eat your food in there. If you had to use the restroom, you were escorted into the restroom, watched while using the restroom, and you were escorted back. If you couldn't go because someone was watching you as to tried to go, they accused you of trying to get time off from being in there, and they would tack another day on top of what you already had, even if it was only for a few minutes.
Basically, when I was at this place, I was treated like a criminal for awhile. You were automatically assumed guilty and had to prove that you were innocent.
They had a point and level system, where you earned both good points and bad points. Good points meritted trust and certain privledges, where bad points would subtract the good points you earned, moved you back from certain levels (there were 4 of them), and if it was severe enough, you would be placed on "Off Trust" which meant no privledges whatsoever and you would have to start all over again. Once you reached Level 4 and achieved all of it's objectives, you were then released back to you home school.
One they always tried to get me on was "daydreaming". Even if I was just deep in thought, just thinking or pondering over what happened that day, they would try to accuse me of daydreaming and place me on "Off Trust" for it even though daydreaming was never on their list of infractions.
In 1983, I was sent to a psychologist by the name of Dr. Jeff A. Christiansen, PsyD. This was also a total nightmare. When he asked me questions, I tried to answer them to my best ability, only to be accused of lying to him. He also played mind games with me, asking me if I enjoyed the sexual assault. When I told him no, he said, "Ah, c'mon. Not even a little bit? Alot of times those are initiations they that they select only for people that they want in their group." Another was when he called me a "demanding little bastard" because I could not tell someone that I liked them without knowing that they liked me first.
Conclusion
Behavior Modification is a very controversial forms of psychological therapy. It is extremely intrusive. It seeks to manipulate outward behavior through pain, whether it's physical or emotional, or a denial of affirmation (i.e. head games).
The theory is that behavior modification (aka aversion therapy) trains the individual away from unwanted behavior. Most of the people who are sent to these camps are kids who display anti-social behavior. The purpose is to cause them to break down through "organized punishment" so that the therapist can mold them into whatever they want them to be.
Some methods used in behavior modification are electric shocks without anesthetic AKA "bad behavior shocks", vomit inducing injections such as apomorphine which makes the patient violently ill, respiratory paralysis drugs such as succinylcholine, which impedes on the person's breathing while preventing them from passing out.
If a parent is reading this right now, please think long and hard before sending your kid to a behavior modification facility and/or psychologist. When my parents sent me to a psychologist, they believed that any psychologist is a psychologist. That is not true. There are many different psychologists who are experts in different areas. One, of course, is behavior modification, others are experts in PTSD, DID, schizophrenia, criminology, family and marriage counselors, and the list goes on.
Before doing anything, research it in it's entirety before making any rash decisions or commitments of any kind. By doing so, you could very well prevent your own child from the grief and suffering I had to endure.
Sources:
Introduction
I was only 9 years old when I was sent to the Hannah Neil Center for Children. Today, I am 35 years old. For me, age 9 was a lifetime ago. However, for some reason, the memories that I have sometimes seem like they only took place yesterday. I have been told that I was lucky because a lot of the children who are sent to behavioral modification facilities do not make it out of there alive. One good thing I think that can come from this is to share my story with others, letting them know that they are not alone. Perhaps, a parent may see this and decide that these places are not one of the best alternatives for their child. I may be a survivor, however I have also been diagnosed with PTSD and major depression because of what I have been though, and will have to live with that for the rest of my life.
How it all started
When I was 3 years old, I was adopted by my grandparents because my mom was not currently working and she was in the process of a divorce with my biological father. As I got older, on the block where I lived, there was no kids who lived on that block, let alone the same street I was on. So basically, all of my life, I was around older people, and could not relate to kids my own age.
When I was sent away
In 1980, I was 9 and in the fourth grade at the time. The committee at my home school voted unanimously to send me to a residential treatment center called the Hannah Neil Center for Children. Ironically my fourth grade teacher, Ms. Makely, was one of those who was active on the committee at that time.
Three infractions at my home school led to this decision. The first one was when a girl in my class brought in a prank ketchup bottle. The girl who did this I had a serious crush on ever since the second grade. A lot of my classmates thought that both of us would have made a great couple. Anyways, she brought this to school, and one day she said my name, I turned around and she squirted it at me. The bottle had retractable red yarn in it, but I didn't know it at the time and I blew up. She told me to look down and nothing was on my shirt.
Looking back, I know that I over reacted. To this day, I don't know exactly why. It's hard to describe. The only way I know how to describe it was that I liked her, I thought she liked me, and I felt embarrassed and humiliated when everyone was standing around laughing. No one else seemed to feel that way. When she did the same to other kids, they laughed and played along. My teacher walked in as this was going on. She didn't take my reaction very well. She even tried telling me "Don't you think she might be doing that to you because she likes you and wants your attention?" Unfortunately, to no avail that did not work for me. Infraction #1: cannot relate to his own peers very well - aggressive and confrontational.
The next infraction was my home school's Halloween parade. We would dress up in costumes and parade in the downtown streets of our town for everyone to watch. I dressed up as Darth Vader that year.
Every year my grandmother would stand at the same spot, right in front of town hall watching to see me and talk to me. I stopped by like I had done every single year, except this year my fourth grade teacher took exception to this. That I never did understand. My first, second, and third grade teacher didn't. It was only my fourth grade teacher who did.
She came running back and said "C'mon, let's go! You're supposed to be in a parade." My grandmother said, "I just wanted to talk to my grandson for a minute." I kept talking to my grandmother and my teacher said, "Now! Let's go! I'm not going to tell you again!" I then turned and looked at my teacher and said "My grandmother wanted to say something to me. I'll catch up with the rest of you."
My teacher was a cowgirl for that year. As I was waiting to hear what my grandmother wanted to say to me, she took her lasso, through it around me as if I was a piece of cattle, and she said "When I say now, I mean NOW! Not an hour, not a few minutes, not even a second. Now means now!", and she dragged me on the ground about 5 feet, right in front of my grandmother and other onlookers. My grandmother just stood there and said "Don't fight her, I'll tell you later when you get home." Infraction #2: insubordination - has problems following orders.
Later in that year, we had a show and tell in our class. One of the classmates who lived in the country decided to bring one of his horses to school. I watched as he was talking about his horse and he was showing others how to ride one, how to steer a horse from left to right, how to pick up speed, how to slow it down, etc. Then, he demonstrated and rode off for, I would say, a few hundred feet in this field that belonged to the school.
As he rode up, everyone came up and pet the horse. I just stood back and watched. My teacher said, "Don't you want to pet the horse?" I said "No." She said, "Why not?" I said, "Because I just don't want to." She then said, "Ah, c'mon! Everyone else is petting the horse." I then said, "Yeah, but I just don't feel like it." She then let out a big sigh and said "Well, guess what? You're going to pet the horse whether you want to or not." She grabbed a hold of my arm, dragged my toward the horse, and having a hold of my wrist, she forced my hand, and moved it across the side of the horse." She said, "There. That wasn't so bad was it? Nothing to be afraid of there." Infraction #3: Defies authority, will not conform - incorrigible.
After that episode is when the school decided that I needed to be sent away to learn how other kids interact, so the school decided that in my best interest, I should be sent to Hannah Neil Center for Children. It was outpatient, which meant I was allowed to come home after school was up, where some had to stay there and live. The first two weeks were the worst. During the first two weeks there, I was beaten up and a victim of same sex assault by one of the classmates. This is what my psychologist believes today is the cause of my PTSD.
At Hannah Neil, they had what were referred to as time out rooms (aka seclusion rooms) with doors that were locked for kids who didn't behave. It was a metal door that was painted red on year, yellow the next, had a square window with shatterproof glass with a grid towards the bottom for ventilation purposes. The door did not have a handle from the inside and could only be opened from the outside. The walls were made of concrete squares, painted white, and both the door and the walls had fingernail scratches on them, which was creepy. My automatic reaction was "I wonder what went on in here to make kids want to get out that badly?" Sometimes walking passed that place, you could hear screams. Nothing like let me out, put high pitched as if someone was being tortured in there. I would tense up and my stomach would knot up everything I walked passed there. Even if the outer door was closed to go into that room where those cells were located, it was just knowing what was there behind that door.
They also had a room which was called the "OT Room" (which stood for the Off Trust Room). This one wasn't quite as creepy as the time out room. It just looked like a vacant office. What was different is the doors would be locked by a key, instead of the surface bolts that were used on the time out room cells, and this room had no lights, unlike the time out rooms. So, if you went in this one, it would be pitch darkness. No windows, no nothing. You were monitored by an infrared camera and communicated with through a speaker in the ceiling and that was it.
I was sent to the Time Out room once for fighting. I was defending myself against another kid who was there for awhile. Because no teachers saw who threw the first punch, both of us had to go. It was for 1 day. You had to take off your shoes, if you wore a belt, you had to take that off as well, and give it to a teacher. They brought your classwork to the room and if you couldn't figure it out for yourself, tough luck. It was your fault that you weren't in class that day when teachers were explaining everything. No scissors, paper clips, staples, pens, pencils, or markers. You had to do your class work in black crayon. They brought lunch for you in styrofoam containers with plastic forks, knifes, and spoons. You had to eat your food in there. If you had to use the restroom, you were escorted into the restroom, watched while using the restroom, and you were escorted back. If you couldn't go because someone was watching you as to tried to go, they accused you of trying to get time off from being in there, and they would tack another day on top of what you already had, even if it was only for a few minutes.
Basically, when I was at this place, I was treated like a criminal for awhile. You were automatically assumed guilty and had to prove that you were innocent.
They had a point and level system, where you earned both good points and bad points. Good points meritted trust and certain privledges, where bad points would subtract the good points you earned, moved you back from certain levels (there were 4 of them), and if it was severe enough, you would be placed on "Off Trust" which meant no privledges whatsoever and you would have to start all over again. Once you reached Level 4 and achieved all of it's objectives, you were then released back to you home school.
One they always tried to get me on was "daydreaming". Even if I was just deep in thought, just thinking or pondering over what happened that day, they would try to accuse me of daydreaming and place me on "Off Trust" for it even though daydreaming was never on their list of infractions.
In 1983, I was sent to a psychologist by the name of Dr. Jeff A. Christiansen, PsyD. This was also a total nightmare. When he asked me questions, I tried to answer them to my best ability, only to be accused of lying to him. He also played mind games with me, asking me if I enjoyed the sexual assault. When I told him no, he said, "Ah, c'mon. Not even a little bit? Alot of times those are initiations they that they select only for people that they want in their group." Another was when he called me a "demanding little bastard" because I could not tell someone that I liked them without knowing that they liked me first.
Conclusion
Behavior Modification is a very controversial forms of psychological therapy. It is extremely intrusive. It seeks to manipulate outward behavior through pain, whether it's physical or emotional, or a denial of affirmation (i.e. head games).
The theory is that behavior modification (aka aversion therapy) trains the individual away from unwanted behavior. Most of the people who are sent to these camps are kids who display anti-social behavior. The purpose is to cause them to break down through "organized punishment" so that the therapist can mold them into whatever they want them to be.
Some methods used in behavior modification are electric shocks without anesthetic AKA "bad behavior shocks", vomit inducing injections such as apomorphine which makes the patient violently ill, respiratory paralysis drugs such as succinylcholine, which impedes on the person's breathing while preventing them from passing out.
If a parent is reading this right now, please think long and hard before sending your kid to a behavior modification facility and/or psychologist. When my parents sent me to a psychologist, they believed that any psychologist is a psychologist. That is not true. There are many different psychologists who are experts in different areas. One, of course, is behavior modification, others are experts in PTSD, DID, schizophrenia, criminology, family and marriage counselors, and the list goes on.
Before doing anything, research it in it's entirety before making any rash decisions or commitments of any kind. By doing so, you could very well prevent your own child from the grief and suffering I had to endure.
Sources:
- The original testimony (From CAICA)
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Shardwolf: The exciting conclusion (Part XIV)
This is the 14'th part of Shardwold's lifestory. All rights goes to the original author who posted this on Livejournal:
Well when i got home and after my stint on the streets, I lived with my sister, and that was pretty cool. We got along fine, and i got a job at the Target near her.
I was doing well for a while, then i met her. Kelly was not exactly a nice person. We actually dated for a while and that was cool. I did like her. During the time i was with her, i had lost my job at Target cuz i had another one of my mania deals, and went to go work at my dads pawn shop. That did not work well since it was about 5 hours on the bus daily so i went to go work at Ihop near there. That was good for a while i was doing well i had a girlfriend, my sister on i got a two bedroom apartment.
Then Kelly broke up with me which was not a bug deal it was how she did it. She first had her friends get my to say bad stuff about me, then when i would not, she found some miniscule reason. She wanted it over but could not do it so it was her fault. And in all reality i was just some toy for her toget f her last ex, which she got back together with, i know this cuz she told me.
That was a lonely depresssing time, i had no friends though i talked to some online, i never went out. I was workign the grave yard shift and that always made it hard to do anything. So outta depreateness and just pure lonliness i slept with a hooker. Thats right i paid a women for sex and did it in my sisters bed. Then i forgot to clean up the wrapper and my sister found it and i was pretty much kicked out.
I went to go live with a room mate and stopped taking my meds. That did not work out too well since she was a pot smoking retard who hot boxed the place with her three year oldkid there. I'm not saying pot its bad its people like her who give pot a bad name. Anyway i got to te point where i was an assistant manager and got to be on the main manager on the grave yard, and i did that for about a month, when the three months of no meds just came down on me. I left right from work and went right to New Mexico. Then I came back. I did not know what i expected but, but maybe go back to the school. Oh well that did not happen so i got home and Heather (my room mater) started fighting, and i was trying to get my job back. Well they did not hire me so i got a job at the i hop near the PV mall, and moved down there in my own place. I decided to start working two jobs, and got fired from Ihop cuz i was late twice. So I was workign at Ruby Tuesdays, then at Olive Garden cuz Ruby Tuesdays was way to slow. Then i decied to go to the Army so i quit Olive Garden and go shipped to Alabamna. Then they found out i was bi-polar and had to be sent back here. Thats when i met you all. Pokey first and slowly the rest.
And that is my story for better or for worse. I have done some bad things on my life, and i have done some good thing, but i am a good person and i am sticking to it.
Source:
The exciting conclusion (The original testimony on Livejournal)
Well when i got home and after my stint on the streets, I lived with my sister, and that was pretty cool. We got along fine, and i got a job at the Target near her.
I was doing well for a while, then i met her. Kelly was not exactly a nice person. We actually dated for a while and that was cool. I did like her. During the time i was with her, i had lost my job at Target cuz i had another one of my mania deals, and went to go work at my dads pawn shop. That did not work well since it was about 5 hours on the bus daily so i went to go work at Ihop near there. That was good for a while i was doing well i had a girlfriend, my sister on i got a two bedroom apartment.
Then Kelly broke up with me which was not a bug deal it was how she did it. She first had her friends get my to say bad stuff about me, then when i would not, she found some miniscule reason. She wanted it over but could not do it so it was her fault. And in all reality i was just some toy for her toget f her last ex, which she got back together with, i know this cuz she told me.
That was a lonely depresssing time, i had no friends though i talked to some online, i never went out. I was workign the grave yard shift and that always made it hard to do anything. So outta depreateness and just pure lonliness i slept with a hooker. Thats right i paid a women for sex and did it in my sisters bed. Then i forgot to clean up the wrapper and my sister found it and i was pretty much kicked out.
I went to go live with a room mate and stopped taking my meds. That did not work out too well since she was a pot smoking retard who hot boxed the place with her three year oldkid there. I'm not saying pot its bad its people like her who give pot a bad name. Anyway i got to te point where i was an assistant manager and got to be on the main manager on the grave yard, and i did that for about a month, when the three months of no meds just came down on me. I left right from work and went right to New Mexico. Then I came back. I did not know what i expected but, but maybe go back to the school. Oh well that did not happen so i got home and Heather (my room mater) started fighting, and i was trying to get my job back. Well they did not hire me so i got a job at the i hop near the PV mall, and moved down there in my own place. I decided to start working two jobs, and got fired from Ihop cuz i was late twice. So I was workign at Ruby Tuesdays, then at Olive Garden cuz Ruby Tuesdays was way to slow. Then i decied to go to the Army so i quit Olive Garden and go shipped to Alabamna. Then they found out i was bi-polar and had to be sent back here. Thats when i met you all. Pokey first and slowly the rest.
And that is my story for better or for worse. I have done some bad things on my life, and i have done some good thing, but i am a good person and i am sticking to it.
Source:
The exciting conclusion (The original testimony on Livejournal)
Monday, May 13, 2013
Shardwolf: SCRA (Part XIII)
This is the 13'th part of Shardwold's lifestory. All rights goes to the original author who posted this on Livejournal:
ok so i go to SCRA.....that was the most differant progam i had ever been in. i was the youngest one in the program for once. i thought i would have a lot more freedome there. not so much. granted it there really was no school, we had classes and stuff we had to take and activities. there were some cool staff there and what not. they had a horse program there. but it was pretty gay since it was all therapy, that really turned me off horses. i did well there but had a problem with pointing fingers, and i hated it when pepople called me on it. the would only fuel my anger. i had said something about my past and it pretty much turned everyone off from me for the rest, about how i did stuff with that other guy, got me the label as gay for a while. now understand i was not totally ready to accept that yet. so i denied that all that stuff and blamed it on being young. there were these two guys named Joey and Dan. i hated them. they were like friends instantly and it made me insanly jeleous. i never had a friend like that, plus they were like perfect in everyway, at least in my eyes. everything from physical to the way the handled things. granted i knew that its was all an maniulation that made no differance to me. well they progressed through the phases that way, using manipulation, and i made me wonder why they were there. anyway um i did pretty well, and within a month was in a cabin. you start off in a big house then end up in the cabins. it was a huge place, and there was some haunted areas there too like the houses that were litteraly destroyed, scared the crap outta me. well i got to go to Six flags cuz i helped build this big horse fense outta rail road ties and that was fun, but joey and dan were able to start going to collage, even though they were not even at the right phase and i was depressed and jeleous and kinda freaked out. not good times for me. i ended up in a cabin ripping up sheets. but i bucked up and did really well for a while and got to go to the second phase which was apartment complexes a couple miles from main campus. that was cool i did an internship at a vetranary clinic. i was invovled in the building and creating of the recoreding studio, i was the one chosen to be the first and formost person using the computers and everything, helping people get their music together, i was pretty good at it. jason, the recording guy, is also the guy who taught me how to box. but he would alsways spend time with joey. i feltt left out again. in a lot of ways the same way i feel now adays. so outta extreme jeleously i went on his myspace (the one i created) and went on and made it say like sister fucker and who likes to fuck their sister I DO. oh boy i got in trouble. for about a month i was back at the ranch (the main campus) until i was able to earn going back to the second phase. then things really went up hill. i got to the third phase, patched things up with joey and all those people and started to work at subway. then after a month, and after i was 18 i decied to leave and go home. that did not work out i was there for two days and they sent me back cuz i would have been on the streets and i did not really have a choice at the point. so i got a NEW job at the vet clinic, i just did not want to do it anymore. call me making excuses but honestly the system was skewed and after a while when i explained it to my mom she agreed. well when i got home (well to phoenix) i was on the streets cuz my mom had a restraining order against me since she was scared of me. i was too afraid of my dad, and lived on the streets for a while until my sister let me stay with here. and that chapter is for tomorrow boys and girls. thanks for listening to my tale to those who have.
Source:
SCRA (The original testimony on Livejournal)
ok so i go to SCRA.....that was the most differant progam i had ever been in. i was the youngest one in the program for once. i thought i would have a lot more freedome there. not so much. granted it there really was no school, we had classes and stuff we had to take and activities. there were some cool staff there and what not. they had a horse program there. but it was pretty gay since it was all therapy, that really turned me off horses. i did well there but had a problem with pointing fingers, and i hated it when pepople called me on it. the would only fuel my anger. i had said something about my past and it pretty much turned everyone off from me for the rest, about how i did stuff with that other guy, got me the label as gay for a while. now understand i was not totally ready to accept that yet. so i denied that all that stuff and blamed it on being young. there were these two guys named Joey and Dan. i hated them. they were like friends instantly and it made me insanly jeleous. i never had a friend like that, plus they were like perfect in everyway, at least in my eyes. everything from physical to the way the handled things. granted i knew that its was all an maniulation that made no differance to me. well they progressed through the phases that way, using manipulation, and i made me wonder why they were there. anyway um i did pretty well, and within a month was in a cabin. you start off in a big house then end up in the cabins. it was a huge place, and there was some haunted areas there too like the houses that were litteraly destroyed, scared the crap outta me. well i got to go to Six flags cuz i helped build this big horse fense outta rail road ties and that was fun, but joey and dan were able to start going to collage, even though they were not even at the right phase and i was depressed and jeleous and kinda freaked out. not good times for me. i ended up in a cabin ripping up sheets. but i bucked up and did really well for a while and got to go to the second phase which was apartment complexes a couple miles from main campus. that was cool i did an internship at a vetranary clinic. i was invovled in the building and creating of the recoreding studio, i was the one chosen to be the first and formost person using the computers and everything, helping people get their music together, i was pretty good at it. jason, the recording guy, is also the guy who taught me how to box. but he would alsways spend time with joey. i feltt left out again. in a lot of ways the same way i feel now adays. so outta extreme jeleously i went on his myspace (the one i created) and went on and made it say like sister fucker and who likes to fuck their sister I DO. oh boy i got in trouble. for about a month i was back at the ranch (the main campus) until i was able to earn going back to the second phase. then things really went up hill. i got to the third phase, patched things up with joey and all those people and started to work at subway. then after a month, and after i was 18 i decied to leave and go home. that did not work out i was there for two days and they sent me back cuz i would have been on the streets and i did not really have a choice at the point. so i got a NEW job at the vet clinic, i just did not want to do it anymore. call me making excuses but honestly the system was skewed and after a while when i explained it to my mom she agreed. well when i got home (well to phoenix) i was on the streets cuz my mom had a restraining order against me since she was scared of me. i was too afraid of my dad, and lived on the streets for a while until my sister let me stay with here. and that chapter is for tomorrow boys and girls. thanks for listening to my tale to those who have.
Source:
SCRA (The original testimony on Livejournal)
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Shardwolf: 8 months with mom (Part XII)
This is the 12'th part of Shardwold's lifestory. All rights goes to the original author who posted this on Livejournal:
So i was allowed to live at home with my mom. i started high school at horizon high school and at first everything was going really well. i was in a slight understanding of my illness but still not really understanding why i did what i did and other things. then i started going manic, i hit my mom. i hit my sister. both of them. i did not go to school for 4 days, and just stayed in bed. so my mom got in with a new therapist, Dr. Picus. it was pretty cool. she got me out of the 4 dententions i had. i used that alot to my advantage. i was a bastard i always knew how to get out of trouble. i also started to see Dr. Kalivas, who i saw until recently. i got some med changes and would do well for a few weeks but always have a major set back. i got another job at walgreens but that did not last long either, my mania once again getting the best of me. then i joined AZA, which was a jewsih fraturnity for high schools, part of the BBYO, and it was great. i made some good friends, but there was always something that made me feel like i was kinda only at certain things because i happended to hear them talking about it. in december of that year i was arrested cuz my mom was afriad of my cuz i was in such a rage that i was punching holes in the wall and i could have hurt her. i spent 2 weeks at st lukes hospital. i got out and went to a convention for the BBYO. then at the end of it i found out i got a call back for office max and was offered a job on the spot. it was cool i worked there for 4 months it was great. but i was still having the same issues. but i kept my job which was cool. i got sick on day from bad shrimp....ug that was bad. i eventually gave two weeks then did not come in the last day and got fired. but i was elected in my group to be vice president. that was awesome. i was that for a bit. then for some reason, and i don't remeber why i got on a bus, and ended up in tempe like mill and university. i was walking around all night........and ended up at az mills where i got back on a bus and ended back up at university and mills, i don't think i could find that same route again. but i ended up talking with some lesbian chicks who let me sleep in their living room and i woke up and thought it was all a dream. then i called my mom who said i was going back to a hospital when she came and got me cuz i was unstable. so i hoped a greyhound bus to LA. i walk around there for a few days. walked from hollywood and vine to the santa monica peir. for those that don't know how far that is imagine walking from desert springs mall to desert sky. and finally tired and hungry i called my mom who was freaking out. my friend and mentor picked me up and took me home from LA. then i went to the hospital. i was there on week and they told me i was going to SUWS, and they put me on a day program. i did not want to go to SUWS, it was another wilderness program. so i had another episode so bad my therapist called the police. i was arrested for criminal damage. i ripped up my moms plants. i spent 15 hours in juvie. learned my lesson there. i was back at the hospital for another week and during that time i found out that i was going to a independant living program in taos NM, called San Cristobal Ranch Acadamy. but that boys and girls is tomorrows story. i hope that anyone who reads this enjoys something or learns something about me or anything else about themselves.
Source:
8 months with mom (The original testimony on Livejournal)
So i was allowed to live at home with my mom. i started high school at horizon high school and at first everything was going really well. i was in a slight understanding of my illness but still not really understanding why i did what i did and other things. then i started going manic, i hit my mom. i hit my sister. both of them. i did not go to school for 4 days, and just stayed in bed. so my mom got in with a new therapist, Dr. Picus. it was pretty cool. she got me out of the 4 dententions i had. i used that alot to my advantage. i was a bastard i always knew how to get out of trouble. i also started to see Dr. Kalivas, who i saw until recently. i got some med changes and would do well for a few weeks but always have a major set back. i got another job at walgreens but that did not last long either, my mania once again getting the best of me. then i joined AZA, which was a jewsih fraturnity for high schools, part of the BBYO, and it was great. i made some good friends, but there was always something that made me feel like i was kinda only at certain things because i happended to hear them talking about it. in december of that year i was arrested cuz my mom was afriad of my cuz i was in such a rage that i was punching holes in the wall and i could have hurt her. i spent 2 weeks at st lukes hospital. i got out and went to a convention for the BBYO. then at the end of it i found out i got a call back for office max and was offered a job on the spot. it was cool i worked there for 4 months it was great. but i was still having the same issues. but i kept my job which was cool. i got sick on day from bad shrimp....ug that was bad. i eventually gave two weeks then did not come in the last day and got fired. but i was elected in my group to be vice president. that was awesome. i was that for a bit. then for some reason, and i don't remeber why i got on a bus, and ended up in tempe like mill and university. i was walking around all night........and ended up at az mills where i got back on a bus and ended back up at university and mills, i don't think i could find that same route again. but i ended up talking with some lesbian chicks who let me sleep in their living room and i woke up and thought it was all a dream. then i called my mom who said i was going back to a hospital when she came and got me cuz i was unstable. so i hoped a greyhound bus to LA. i walk around there for a few days. walked from hollywood and vine to the santa monica peir. for those that don't know how far that is imagine walking from desert springs mall to desert sky. and finally tired and hungry i called my mom who was freaking out. my friend and mentor picked me up and took me home from LA. then i went to the hospital. i was there on week and they told me i was going to SUWS, and they put me on a day program. i did not want to go to SUWS, it was another wilderness program. so i had another episode so bad my therapist called the police. i was arrested for criminal damage. i ripped up my moms plants. i spent 15 hours in juvie. learned my lesson there. i was back at the hospital for another week and during that time i found out that i was going to a independant living program in taos NM, called San Cristobal Ranch Acadamy. but that boys and girls is tomorrows story. i hope that anyone who reads this enjoys something or learns something about me or anything else about themselves.
Source:
8 months with mom (The original testimony on Livejournal)
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Shardwolf: OCRS (Part XI)
This is the 11'th part of Shardwold's lifestory. All rights goes to the original author who posted this on Livejournal:
lets see, i left off at graduating from island view, so it was at that point i was able to go the school OCRS. oak creek ranch school in sedona az. this was differant. it was a real school. allen popsack., Pops for short, was the head guy for academics, but there was this guy named larry. now he was at least 500lbs. i never saw him walk more then maybe 20 feet. he drove everywhere. he was the dean of students so like pretty much was in charge of the non academic part of the school, activies, walmart trips and what have you. he was a hard ass. but again my idea of getting in good with the mean people at places worked. i was kinda the golden boy there. i never go in trouble. well thats not true actually. i got a BJ from a girl there. she just started coming back to there. she was actually the first girl i ever kissed. it was pretty cool. then she took me behind the horse barn and blew that crap outta me. i forget how but we ended up getting caught and i lost some privalages. but somehow (well i can be a bit manipulative) i was an RA soon afterward. that was a resident asstant. i had all the cool privalages. i got a fridge in my dorm. i could stay up late as i wanted. it was cool. i had a tv with an antenna and DVD player with a game cube. i guess if i had the interent there i would have figured out i was a furry cuz i fantasized about Krystal. and of fox taking me from behind while krystal did me from the front lol. oh yeah......the horses. we had horse. i got pretty involved in the horse program. i was even in a show for parents day, it was neat. twice we went on a horse back overnight, where we saddled them up and rode of a couple hours to a nice little spot where we camped out and it was just good wholesome fun with the marshmellows and smores and everything.
Then i went home for the summer and decied to stay home. then i got a job at TJ maxx. that lasted 2 weeks. that was kinda that start of my whole issue with job thing. i decied i wanted to go back to OCRS. i went on the 2nd horse back over night then. i was an RA the whole time and it was SWEET. i had this awesome room mate and all sorts of stuff. after we went on break for a month before school started again, i decied i wanted to live at home. so my mom and dad and i all went to dinner and we decied that i would to the local school horizon high school. oh and for that month i worked a computer place for a guy named mark. thats where i got my first laptop. i worked for him to work it off since i did not have 400 bucks. it was very fun there. and next time it will be time to recount the tale of my 8 months at my mothers house
Source:
OCRS (The original testimony on Livejournal)
lets see, i left off at graduating from island view, so it was at that point i was able to go the school OCRS. oak creek ranch school in sedona az. this was differant. it was a real school. allen popsack., Pops for short, was the head guy for academics, but there was this guy named larry. now he was at least 500lbs. i never saw him walk more then maybe 20 feet. he drove everywhere. he was the dean of students so like pretty much was in charge of the non academic part of the school, activies, walmart trips and what have you. he was a hard ass. but again my idea of getting in good with the mean people at places worked. i was kinda the golden boy there. i never go in trouble. well thats not true actually. i got a BJ from a girl there. she just started coming back to there. she was actually the first girl i ever kissed. it was pretty cool. then she took me behind the horse barn and blew that crap outta me. i forget how but we ended up getting caught and i lost some privalages. but somehow (well i can be a bit manipulative) i was an RA soon afterward. that was a resident asstant. i had all the cool privalages. i got a fridge in my dorm. i could stay up late as i wanted. it was cool. i had a tv with an antenna and DVD player with a game cube. i guess if i had the interent there i would have figured out i was a furry cuz i fantasized about Krystal. and of fox taking me from behind while krystal did me from the front lol. oh yeah......the horses. we had horse. i got pretty involved in the horse program. i was even in a show for parents day, it was neat. twice we went on a horse back overnight, where we saddled them up and rode of a couple hours to a nice little spot where we camped out and it was just good wholesome fun with the marshmellows and smores and everything.
Then i went home for the summer and decied to stay home. then i got a job at TJ maxx. that lasted 2 weeks. that was kinda that start of my whole issue with job thing. i decied i wanted to go back to OCRS. i went on the 2nd horse back over night then. i was an RA the whole time and it was SWEET. i had this awesome room mate and all sorts of stuff. after we went on break for a month before school started again, i decied i wanted to live at home. so my mom and dad and i all went to dinner and we decied that i would to the local school horizon high school. oh and for that month i worked a computer place for a guy named mark. thats where i got my first laptop. i worked for him to work it off since i did not have 400 bucks. it was very fun there. and next time it will be time to recount the tale of my 8 months at my mothers house
Source:
OCRS (The original testimony on Livejournal)
Friday, May 10, 2013
Shardwolf: Apr. 24th, 2008 (Part X)
This is the tenth part of Shardwold's lifestory. All rights goes to the original author who posted this on Livejournal:
Well after those second six weeks of being at home i went to Island View residential treatment center, and that was whole new ball game.
it was all lock down, but not like the hospitals that i went to before. they had activities and stuff, but i was not as happy with being active there as i am now. i was only allowed to eat one meal which was probably a good thing because i was pretty over weight at the time. um lets see, i was not the best kid the first 6 month, i was trying to get to the next phase, and did not get it, so i kinda started losing it, and got on yellow zone, which meant i had to sit in a chair for a few days, but when they did not let me get off yellow, because they thought i was just giving the commitee lip service i lost it and then had to sit again in a chair for a few more days, and then they took me off, and i started to do ok again, and then i got to be able to get on the next phase, and was doing ok, i was also trying to get on the next phase, and that was taking a while. i don't remember what it was the first time, but i once again lost it and ended up sitting at a desk with nothing but the torah for 9 days. i learned a lot about the torah.
There was a rabbi that came by on thursdays and thats how i got it. then after that i started to do a turn around, things started to really go my way, i got to the third phase, and that was pretty cool i got to sleep in, and had a new therapist who i think was a lot more invested in me, but once again i started to lose control of my emotions, and then ended spending two weeks just being horrible, i was in the time out room, rubbing my crotch on others pillow, and pretty much pissed everyone off, kinda like how it is today. then i really started to shape up. i started working out, i started really figuring out how to control my emotions, though i still never understood why my moods did what i did. but i moved up and up and up and right to the top phase, i lost like 30 pounds and got all the way to the top phase YAY!!!!. i found a great school for after Island View, it was a cool place in Sedona. i graduated on the top level. i did really well. i got my coin (they gave you a coin when you graduated) and was able to go home.
Source:
Apr. 24th, 2008 (The original testimony on Livejournal)
Well after those second six weeks of being at home i went to Island View residential treatment center, and that was whole new ball game.
it was all lock down, but not like the hospitals that i went to before. they had activities and stuff, but i was not as happy with being active there as i am now. i was only allowed to eat one meal which was probably a good thing because i was pretty over weight at the time. um lets see, i was not the best kid the first 6 month, i was trying to get to the next phase, and did not get it, so i kinda started losing it, and got on yellow zone, which meant i had to sit in a chair for a few days, but when they did not let me get off yellow, because they thought i was just giving the commitee lip service i lost it and then had to sit again in a chair for a few more days, and then they took me off, and i started to do ok again, and then i got to be able to get on the next phase, and was doing ok, i was also trying to get on the next phase, and that was taking a while. i don't remember what it was the first time, but i once again lost it and ended up sitting at a desk with nothing but the torah for 9 days. i learned a lot about the torah.
There was a rabbi that came by on thursdays and thats how i got it. then after that i started to do a turn around, things started to really go my way, i got to the third phase, and that was pretty cool i got to sleep in, and had a new therapist who i think was a lot more invested in me, but once again i started to lose control of my emotions, and then ended spending two weeks just being horrible, i was in the time out room, rubbing my crotch on others pillow, and pretty much pissed everyone off, kinda like how it is today. then i really started to shape up. i started working out, i started really figuring out how to control my emotions, though i still never understood why my moods did what i did. but i moved up and up and up and right to the top phase, i lost like 30 pounds and got all the way to the top phase YAY!!!!. i found a great school for after Island View, it was a cool place in Sedona. i graduated on the top level. i did really well. i got my coin (they gave you a coin when you graduated) and was able to go home.
Source:
Apr. 24th, 2008 (The original testimony on Livejournal)
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Shardwolf: Ascent, part two, St pauls and King George School (Part IX)
This is the ninth part of Shardwold's lifestory. All rights goes to the original author who posted this on Livejournal:
well i graduated CEDU on August 29th 2002, and was going to go St Pauls Prep here in good ol Phoeinx AZ. i was there a month. now at cedu i was used to talk to my parents every week and write and all that all i wanted. i get to st pauls and i can't do any of that. that mixed with that fact i did not know about this thing called restraint. i told something about my past that i should have kept quiet about (refer to Dad Years part one) and everyone went around saying i was gay., and not one talked to me and i just was losing it, i had no friends and it was just really hard. i finally could not take it, that mixed with the fact i had to go to church everyday, (bringing back issues with danny) i just ran away, and was trying to get to my moms house. i thought the shoulder of the highway was for walking then i foudn out differant when the police picked me up and took me to my moms. so for a week i just freaked out and went off the wall, then i woke up and then bill lane was there in my room. he was there to take me to acsent......agian. i got there and i saw a lot of the same staff. some were mad at me. then i just did not want to do it anymore, i was sick of the prgram and decied to just go off again. the sent me to the hopsital in the nearest town where i stayed one week. then i got back, and went to a new group. the people that took this group hiking were the same as my last trip so it was kinda interesting. well i a graduated and spend about 6 weeks at home. then i went to King Geoorge School. it went well for a little while. i was doing ok and the schooling was pretty good. then since i still was unable keep a hold of my emotions, since i really did not know what i really what was causing them. so after about a week i got kicked out. i mean i really went off the handle. so i went home and was there for a another 6 weeks. then i woke up to another little suprise. two big escourts that were going to take me to Island View RTC. but that is tomorrows tale. for now it is late and i must be going to bed. thanks for listening
Source:
Ascent, part two, St pauls and King George School (The original testimony on Livejournal)
well i graduated CEDU on August 29th 2002, and was going to go St Pauls Prep here in good ol Phoeinx AZ. i was there a month. now at cedu i was used to talk to my parents every week and write and all that all i wanted. i get to st pauls and i can't do any of that. that mixed with that fact i did not know about this thing called restraint. i told something about my past that i should have kept quiet about (refer to Dad Years part one) and everyone went around saying i was gay., and not one talked to me and i just was losing it, i had no friends and it was just really hard. i finally could not take it, that mixed with the fact i had to go to church everyday, (bringing back issues with danny) i just ran away, and was trying to get to my moms house. i thought the shoulder of the highway was for walking then i foudn out differant when the police picked me up and took me to my moms. so for a week i just freaked out and went off the wall, then i woke up and then bill lane was there in my room. he was there to take me to acsent......agian. i got there and i saw a lot of the same staff. some were mad at me. then i just did not want to do it anymore, i was sick of the prgram and decied to just go off again. the sent me to the hopsital in the nearest town where i stayed one week. then i got back, and went to a new group. the people that took this group hiking were the same as my last trip so it was kinda interesting. well i a graduated and spend about 6 weeks at home. then i went to King Geoorge School. it went well for a little while. i was doing ok and the schooling was pretty good. then since i still was unable keep a hold of my emotions, since i really did not know what i really what was causing them. so after about a week i got kicked out. i mean i really went off the handle. so i went home and was there for a another 6 weeks. then i woke up to another little suprise. two big escourts that were going to take me to Island View RTC. but that is tomorrows tale. for now it is late and i must be going to bed. thanks for listening
Source:
Ascent, part two, St pauls and King George School (The original testimony on Livejournal)
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Shardwolf: CEDU Middle School (Part VIII)
This is the eight part of Shardwold's lifestory. All rights goes to the original author who posted this on Livejournal:
ok so CEDU middle school. you may be asking yourself.....what does CEDU stand for. it stands for CE what you do and DU somthing about it. supposedly some dsylexic kid was told to write see what you do and do something about it, and did it wrong. aaaaaanyway, i went there on september 1st 2000. i was good for about a week. then everything went all to hell. they did not have a time out room, but they had a raquetball court, like a real one out side. thats where you went when you were bad. one day when there was a major wind chill they took my over jacket and made me sit there for a few hours. it was VERY cold. i was in the courts a lot. i was a real bad kid. but there was alway one kid who was there for me. his name was Andy Weiss, i even escourted him to the stage for his graduation. he was there for me a lot. we had these things called raps, where for two hours we sat in a room and talked. it happened mondays tuesdays and wedsdays. i missed my visit with my mom for chirstmas cuz i told them to cancel it. they really did what you told them to do in some cases. well i was a a bad kid, i would run around naked and hump people. (not that uncommon in the furry fandom i guess :P )
Then i met matt russell, and things started to turn around. i went through my second workshop (there were 7 over the course of 2 years) and moved up to the next phase in the program. i would still have an outburst once every few months, and eventually that got me to the point where they sent me to the wilderness program. it was 6 weeks, we went hiking for two weeks and all sorts of theraputic things. we had an IRT (individual relection time) and i was scared shitless when it got dark. well i got back and was doing better, but a girl i really needed to apologize to had to leave cuz her family lost a lot of money due to 9/11. so that was hard not being able to do that. but i did well until about march when i lost it again for a morning or so. but for some reason they moved me to the next phase like a week later, and no one really thought i deseved it, and not me neither but ya know what you gonna do? anyway i went through another couple workshops and they moved me to the 4th phase. then agian before we did what was know as our values challenge, i just freaked out again. now understand a lot of my problems have been presnted to me as many differant things, so until it was shown to me as something i understood and could find solid ways to fix years later, i never understood what was going on. here at cedu i was "stuffing my feelings" but even with talking i never understood why i kept doing the things i did. well i went on through the rest of my time there with out doing anything else, and actually doing really well. i went through my last workshop, called the Integreity, there i made a contract with my self. i am courageous and trusting, that is my contract. i still try to live by it, but its harder today. i also flew that day. everyone picked me up and flew me around the room. it was great. then i graduated and max goodwin escourted me to the stage. he was my best friend. we used to call him minium badlose, he has the most posative name in the world. well i graduated and guess what happened next....tune in next time to hear the next part of the story. Till tomorrow
Source:
CEDU Middle School (The original testimony on Livejournal)
ok so CEDU middle school. you may be asking yourself.....what does CEDU stand for. it stands for CE what you do and DU somthing about it. supposedly some dsylexic kid was told to write see what you do and do something about it, and did it wrong. aaaaaanyway, i went there on september 1st 2000. i was good for about a week. then everything went all to hell. they did not have a time out room, but they had a raquetball court, like a real one out side. thats where you went when you were bad. one day when there was a major wind chill they took my over jacket and made me sit there for a few hours. it was VERY cold. i was in the courts a lot. i was a real bad kid. but there was alway one kid who was there for me. his name was Andy Weiss, i even escourted him to the stage for his graduation. he was there for me a lot. we had these things called raps, where for two hours we sat in a room and talked. it happened mondays tuesdays and wedsdays. i missed my visit with my mom for chirstmas cuz i told them to cancel it. they really did what you told them to do in some cases. well i was a a bad kid, i would run around naked and hump people. (not that uncommon in the furry fandom i guess :P )
Then i met matt russell, and things started to turn around. i went through my second workshop (there were 7 over the course of 2 years) and moved up to the next phase in the program. i would still have an outburst once every few months, and eventually that got me to the point where they sent me to the wilderness program. it was 6 weeks, we went hiking for two weeks and all sorts of theraputic things. we had an IRT (individual relection time) and i was scared shitless when it got dark. well i got back and was doing better, but a girl i really needed to apologize to had to leave cuz her family lost a lot of money due to 9/11. so that was hard not being able to do that. but i did well until about march when i lost it again for a morning or so. but for some reason they moved me to the next phase like a week later, and no one really thought i deseved it, and not me neither but ya know what you gonna do? anyway i went through another couple workshops and they moved me to the 4th phase. then agian before we did what was know as our values challenge, i just freaked out again. now understand a lot of my problems have been presnted to me as many differant things, so until it was shown to me as something i understood and could find solid ways to fix years later, i never understood what was going on. here at cedu i was "stuffing my feelings" but even with talking i never understood why i kept doing the things i did. well i went on through the rest of my time there with out doing anything else, and actually doing really well. i went through my last workshop, called the Integreity, there i made a contract with my self. i am courageous and trusting, that is my contract. i still try to live by it, but its harder today. i also flew that day. everyone picked me up and flew me around the room. it was great. then i graduated and max goodwin escourted me to the stage. he was my best friend. we used to call him minium badlose, he has the most posative name in the world. well i graduated and guess what happened next....tune in next time to hear the next part of the story. Till tomorrow
Source:
CEDU Middle School (The original testimony on Livejournal)
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Shardwolf: Laural Ridge (Part VII)
This is the seventh part of Shardwold's lifestory. All rights goes to the original author who posted this on Livejournal:
Well i went to Laural Ridge in july of 1999. I mean it was not everything i had expected to be honest. The brouchere always lies. Always! I never understood that it was a lock down facilty.
well when i got there, i mean it was an ok program. we had these daily sheets we had to get signed everyday. for everyday we got the enough signatures we got a "consequtive day" after every so many days you moved up a level. i made it to gold sheet, the highest. but there was this lady there. her name was cathy, ill never forget her, because she hated me. she did everything in her power to make sure i was miserable. the day i lost my gold sheet, she knew i would lose it so she ever so slowly added the minus points, only adding insult to injury. they day she quit was the greatest day of my time there. there was two girls there that i loved, liz and carla. they were great they taught me a little spanish it was great. the school was just school, but it was sucky, i mean it could not consitute as any sort of real school. but we had to go. i never ate breakfast cuz i was on a low fat diet. and my doctor was huge. i mean like MASSIVE. and i was on a low fat diet. i never ate breakfast cuz they gave me cream of wheat, toast and egg beaters. EVERYTHING WAS NASTY, except the toast, but then again the toast was covered in the cream of wheat. nasty. anyway i finally got off it, and actually got on doubles, which mean i got double portions of everything lol. well there was a period of three months where i lost it. i was supposed to go home on april 1st but i started to lose control and got extended and then just went off for about three months. then we moved units, like everyone moved to another building. and something about that turned me around.
Then they changed the program again and you could move to the top phase like with in two weeks. on the final level you can choose a privlage. there used to be one that you could walk out on your own, like around the complex. but some girl tried to run and got killed cuz she ran along the freeway trying to get out. there was another case.....a kid died cuz he "held his breath during a restraint" at 12 i believed that. today i know differant. you can't hold your breath in such a way that it would turn you blue. he would have had to to had been in a faulty restraint to die the way he did, from not being able to breath.
It was not a good time for me, they put me in his room after he died and i was totally freaked, i was afraid of ghosts, still am. Anyway after about 13 months, i was fianlly told that i was going to be leaving, and i was going to a boarding school in Running Springs California. but that is a story for tomorrow. Till then folks
Source:
Laural Ridge (The original testimony on Livejournal)
Well i went to Laural Ridge in july of 1999. I mean it was not everything i had expected to be honest. The brouchere always lies. Always! I never understood that it was a lock down facilty.
well when i got there, i mean it was an ok program. we had these daily sheets we had to get signed everyday. for everyday we got the enough signatures we got a "consequtive day" after every so many days you moved up a level. i made it to gold sheet, the highest. but there was this lady there. her name was cathy, ill never forget her, because she hated me. she did everything in her power to make sure i was miserable. the day i lost my gold sheet, she knew i would lose it so she ever so slowly added the minus points, only adding insult to injury. they day she quit was the greatest day of my time there. there was two girls there that i loved, liz and carla. they were great they taught me a little spanish it was great. the school was just school, but it was sucky, i mean it could not consitute as any sort of real school. but we had to go. i never ate breakfast cuz i was on a low fat diet. and my doctor was huge. i mean like MASSIVE. and i was on a low fat diet. i never ate breakfast cuz they gave me cream of wheat, toast and egg beaters. EVERYTHING WAS NASTY, except the toast, but then again the toast was covered in the cream of wheat. nasty. anyway i finally got off it, and actually got on doubles, which mean i got double portions of everything lol. well there was a period of three months where i lost it. i was supposed to go home on april 1st but i started to lose control and got extended and then just went off for about three months. then we moved units, like everyone moved to another building. and something about that turned me around.
Then they changed the program again and you could move to the top phase like with in two weeks. on the final level you can choose a privlage. there used to be one that you could walk out on your own, like around the complex. but some girl tried to run and got killed cuz she ran along the freeway trying to get out. there was another case.....a kid died cuz he "held his breath during a restraint" at 12 i believed that. today i know differant. you can't hold your breath in such a way that it would turn you blue. he would have had to to had been in a faulty restraint to die the way he did, from not being able to breath.
It was not a good time for me, they put me in his room after he died and i was totally freaked, i was afraid of ghosts, still am. Anyway after about 13 months, i was fianlly told that i was going to be leaving, and i was going to a boarding school in Running Springs California. but that is a story for tomorrow. Till then folks
Source:
Laural Ridge (The original testimony on Livejournal)
Monday, May 6, 2013
Shardwolf: The Treatment years (Part VI)
This is the sixth part of Shardwold's lifestory. All rights goes to the original author who posted this on Livejournal:
She had betreyed me. I trusted her and she betrayed me.
She told me i was just going to see a doctor, and my mom left me at Glendale Charter Hospital. 3-28-1999 a day etched in my memory forever. this is the day i started my treak in the treatment. i was in a unit your were in at first. i was there one week, then they transfered me to residential unit. i thought i was going to be there only a week. and when they told me i was moving, then i lost it. i cryed i did not want to be there. i got sedative shots almost daily. i was a bad kid. i did not know what i was doing there, and i was young. at one point they had me on 7 medincation and i was a complete zombie.
i was there three months. i remeber on more then one occasion streaking though the unit. there was a kid there. i believe his name was charlie. he had severe autism. my mom bought him a tape player but he was not allowed to have it since the staff said he would probably break it. i wonder what happended to him. i will probably never know, but i do wonder. any way i got a home pass and was able to spend some time at my moms. she took me back and i bolted. i only ran around to the side of the building, and they caught me in the food loading area. i was crying saying how sorry i was. my mom told me my crocdile tears would not work this time. then in july of 1999, they found another place for me, this time in San Antonio texas. that is a tale to be told tomorrow. i am tired and need to sleep. i again thank all who read this for reading this.
Source:
The Treatment years (The original testimony on Livejournal)
She had betreyed me. I trusted her and she betrayed me.
She told me i was just going to see a doctor, and my mom left me at Glendale Charter Hospital. 3-28-1999 a day etched in my memory forever. this is the day i started my treak in the treatment. i was in a unit your were in at first. i was there one week, then they transfered me to residential unit. i thought i was going to be there only a week. and when they told me i was moving, then i lost it. i cryed i did not want to be there. i got sedative shots almost daily. i was a bad kid. i did not know what i was doing there, and i was young. at one point they had me on 7 medincation and i was a complete zombie.
i was there three months. i remeber on more then one occasion streaking though the unit. there was a kid there. i believe his name was charlie. he had severe autism. my mom bought him a tape player but he was not allowed to have it since the staff said he would probably break it. i wonder what happended to him. i will probably never know, but i do wonder. any way i got a home pass and was able to spend some time at my moms. she took me back and i bolted. i only ran around to the side of the building, and they caught me in the food loading area. i was crying saying how sorry i was. my mom told me my crocdile tears would not work this time. then in july of 1999, they found another place for me, this time in San Antonio texas. that is a tale to be told tomorrow. i am tired and need to sleep. i again thank all who read this for reading this.
Source:
The Treatment years (The original testimony on Livejournal)
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Shardwolf: Dad Years Part Deuxe (Part V)
This is fifth part of Shardwolf's testimony. All rights belong to the original author, who published his testimony on Livejournal.
ok so where did i leave off...........oh yes, Johnathan. those were crazy times, really confusing times too. I knew something about it felt right, but i just did not know what it was. and when i was on the edge (i never actually cam) i thought i had to pee lol. I remember the first time i did it with him, we were in his pool. i don't really know exaclty how it went down, and it went from there. for over a year. Well thats all that needs to be said on that subject. so my outbursts where getting bad....so my dad had me admitted to to a day treamtent at phoenix childrens hospital. I would go there for the day then go home at night. the last day i had an outburst......and they locked me in the time out room. they mocked me. i did not understand what was going on. i just kept crying and they just kept mocking me, i was banging and kicking, and did not understand what i was doing in this locked room. this went on till i guess i just ran out of energry.
Then i got let out and went home that night. the next thing i remember was the night that was a chaning point for my life, the second so far (the first was living with my dad). i just remember losing it. i don't remember why. I grabbed a bottle of coke and was pouring it all on the white couch, and poured it into a running washer. My dad had me detained by the police, my mom came and picked me up. so i started the legal battle for me to live with her. i started the school that my sister went to. then in the middle of class, and again i could not tell you why, i exploded, i ripped papers off the wall and ran home. i remember being completly pissed off when the police called me a juvenile deliquent. so i was suspended. i ended up living with my mom for two weeks. what happened after those two weeks you maybe be asking yourself? you need to tune in tomorrow to find out what happens next.
Source:
Dad Years Part Deuxe (The original testimony on Livejournal)
ok so where did i leave off...........oh yes, Johnathan. those were crazy times, really confusing times too. I knew something about it felt right, but i just did not know what it was. and when i was on the edge (i never actually cam) i thought i had to pee lol. I remember the first time i did it with him, we were in his pool. i don't really know exaclty how it went down, and it went from there. for over a year. Well thats all that needs to be said on that subject. so my outbursts where getting bad....so my dad had me admitted to to a day treamtent at phoenix childrens hospital. I would go there for the day then go home at night. the last day i had an outburst......and they locked me in the time out room. they mocked me. i did not understand what was going on. i just kept crying and they just kept mocking me, i was banging and kicking, and did not understand what i was doing in this locked room. this went on till i guess i just ran out of energry.
Then i got let out and went home that night. the next thing i remember was the night that was a chaning point for my life, the second so far (the first was living with my dad). i just remember losing it. i don't remember why. I grabbed a bottle of coke and was pouring it all on the white couch, and poured it into a running washer. My dad had me detained by the police, my mom came and picked me up. so i started the legal battle for me to live with her. i started the school that my sister went to. then in the middle of class, and again i could not tell you why, i exploded, i ripped papers off the wall and ran home. i remember being completly pissed off when the police called me a juvenile deliquent. so i was suspended. i ended up living with my mom for two weeks. what happened after those two weeks you maybe be asking yourself? you need to tune in tomorrow to find out what happens next.
Source:
Dad Years Part Deuxe (The original testimony on Livejournal)
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Shardwolf: Living with my dad (Part IV)
This is the forth part of Shardwold's lifestory. All rights goes to the original author who posted this on Livejournal:
I was nine years old and i went from living with my mom and danny and then living with my dad. and i thought this would be a great move......and it was until a few months afterward. my parents always knew that there was something wrong with me, something that needed attention, i have been on meds since i can remember. my dad and i started arguing a LOT. i was a kid, i never really understood why i could not control these raging emotions that were going on inside me. my dad, however, knew exactly what to do. it started with spankings, which i am not against. this prgressed to grabbing me and throwing me down on the bed, grabbing my face and squeezing, spiting, and if i made it to my room, he would wait there, sometimes like an hour, till i opened up, and he would just pounce.......and not in the good way. i was scared, but i was not always in the right. things would escalate and other things, but eventually i stopped having as much contact with him as i got a nanny. we interviewed a few but i chose a girl named Kellie, which was the same name as my sister Kelly. she was cool too. she took me places and eventually moved in to save money. all this time though, through my constant out bursts, i was going to doctors, and lots of them. noting ever really seemed to get better though. one of the times i remember just losing it and kellie cut up my sword i got at disney on ice, but after shouting she told me she had fallen in love with me while working with me (this had been over a year by now, and NO DIRTY THOUGHTS, I WAS TEN) . i know it was true we where great togehter. but nothing changed. my mom went to a treatment center during the latter part of my time with him. my two sisters came to live with me and my dad. i don't remember much of that, but i later learned that my dad pretty much kicked out my older sister (not his kid) and she had to live with the Daily's (see ealier post) even to this day knowing how he treated both my sisters is heart wrentching. i blocked at lot of what happened. something i remember is my dad found out i went swimming with my mom at her house and he drove over my brand new power ranger toy. how do you do that. i mean there are a million other things he could have done. when i say ran over.........i mean he put it in the driveway and RAN IT OVER WITH HIS CAR. oh i remembered there was a kid, jonathan. we played around a lot. sexually. i did not understand why what i did felt good, but i alwasy thought i was an escape from dealing with my dad. we kissed and gave each other head. i did it once with one of my dads girlfriends like 4 year old kid. it haunts me to this day wondering if i gave him pyscological issues and mess him up like i am. it was not a sexual thing at the time. it was just something in my mind that was an escape. anyway that is enough of rehashing painful memories......i will pick up where i left off tomorrow. some more dad years then i we start to go into the beginning of my treatment years....till tomorrow folks
Shard M Wolf
to all those who take the time to read this.....thank you from the bottom of my heart
Source:
Living with my dad (Original Livejournal post)
I was nine years old and i went from living with my mom and danny and then living with my dad. and i thought this would be a great move......and it was until a few months afterward. my parents always knew that there was something wrong with me, something that needed attention, i have been on meds since i can remember. my dad and i started arguing a LOT. i was a kid, i never really understood why i could not control these raging emotions that were going on inside me. my dad, however, knew exactly what to do. it started with spankings, which i am not against. this prgressed to grabbing me and throwing me down on the bed, grabbing my face and squeezing, spiting, and if i made it to my room, he would wait there, sometimes like an hour, till i opened up, and he would just pounce.......and not in the good way. i was scared, but i was not always in the right. things would escalate and other things, but eventually i stopped having as much contact with him as i got a nanny. we interviewed a few but i chose a girl named Kellie, which was the same name as my sister Kelly. she was cool too. she took me places and eventually moved in to save money. all this time though, through my constant out bursts, i was going to doctors, and lots of them. noting ever really seemed to get better though. one of the times i remember just losing it and kellie cut up my sword i got at disney on ice, but after shouting she told me she had fallen in love with me while working with me (this had been over a year by now, and NO DIRTY THOUGHTS, I WAS TEN) . i know it was true we where great togehter. but nothing changed. my mom went to a treatment center during the latter part of my time with him. my two sisters came to live with me and my dad. i don't remember much of that, but i later learned that my dad pretty much kicked out my older sister (not his kid) and she had to live with the Daily's (see ealier post) even to this day knowing how he treated both my sisters is heart wrentching. i blocked at lot of what happened. something i remember is my dad found out i went swimming with my mom at her house and he drove over my brand new power ranger toy. how do you do that. i mean there are a million other things he could have done. when i say ran over.........i mean he put it in the driveway and RAN IT OVER WITH HIS CAR. oh i remembered there was a kid, jonathan. we played around a lot. sexually. i did not understand why what i did felt good, but i alwasy thought i was an escape from dealing with my dad. we kissed and gave each other head. i did it once with one of my dads girlfriends like 4 year old kid. it haunts me to this day wondering if i gave him pyscological issues and mess him up like i am. it was not a sexual thing at the time. it was just something in my mind that was an escape. anyway that is enough of rehashing painful memories......i will pick up where i left off tomorrow. some more dad years then i we start to go into the beginning of my treatment years....till tomorrow folks
Shard M Wolf
to all those who take the time to read this.....thank you from the bottom of my heart
Source:
Living with my dad (Original Livejournal post)
Friday, May 3, 2013
Shardwolf: Things Get Rocky (Part III)
This is the third part of Shardwolf's lifestory. All rights goes to the author who published this on Livejournal
Well as the title says, this is when things get a little bit differant, a lot more dark, the rainbows and sunshine are no more.
I was 9, i was totally excited i got to start Mercury Mine (the big boy elementry school) and Taylor and i were going to go to school together. I don't exactly remember when he started to see my mom. What i remember is sitting on the computer (windows 95 YAY!) and my mom coming in. She told me she had gotten married. Now i was 9 and still was in the "they can still get back together" phase so i guess i felt betrayed. But i mean how does a 9 year old understand something like that. My mom was gone for a weekend and then there she is telling you she is married.
His name was Danny, and he was cool at first. he really was. I remember telling people i was Arthur Levi. We went to a place in durango, i guess he had a house there or something, and it was one of the first times i ever saw snow. i thought he was the greatest guy in the world.......and then things started to change. first it was the church thing. he was mormon and forced my sisters and i to go to his church.......you gotta understand i was raised jewish, i love being jewish and always have, so it was like i was betraying my people.
I don't know if people could really understand this, but look at is as a 9 year old who has a huge devotion to his real father deep down, who raised me jewish, and here i am sitting in an LDS church. and being forced to pray to jesus. it was really a mind fuck. and then the abuse started. he would grab me by the back of the neck and throw me around. we were skiing in durango and i we were leaving i was playing on a snow hill in the parking lot and the next thing i know i have a hang wringing my neck.. then the next time i remember was my babysitter took me on a bike ride cuz i could not sleep later in the evening.......then i went to bed afterward and a little while after i fell asleep i felt the hand and then i was thrown against the wall and got yelled at and spit at.
This went one for a few months and then i finally did not know what to do other then go live with my dad. so i did, i told me mom about Danny, and she did not really believe me. well the courts finally said i could live with my dad.....but that is the beginning of the story for tomorrow.......the dad years.
Hope you all had fun with this exciting installment till tomorrow
Source:
Things Get Rocky
Well as the title says, this is when things get a little bit differant, a lot more dark, the rainbows and sunshine are no more.
I was 9, i was totally excited i got to start Mercury Mine (the big boy elementry school) and Taylor and i were going to go to school together. I don't exactly remember when he started to see my mom. What i remember is sitting on the computer (windows 95 YAY!) and my mom coming in. She told me she had gotten married. Now i was 9 and still was in the "they can still get back together" phase so i guess i felt betrayed. But i mean how does a 9 year old understand something like that. My mom was gone for a weekend and then there she is telling you she is married.
His name was Danny, and he was cool at first. he really was. I remember telling people i was Arthur Levi. We went to a place in durango, i guess he had a house there or something, and it was one of the first times i ever saw snow. i thought he was the greatest guy in the world.......and then things started to change. first it was the church thing. he was mormon and forced my sisters and i to go to his church.......you gotta understand i was raised jewish, i love being jewish and always have, so it was like i was betraying my people.
I don't know if people could really understand this, but look at is as a 9 year old who has a huge devotion to his real father deep down, who raised me jewish, and here i am sitting in an LDS church. and being forced to pray to jesus. it was really a mind fuck. and then the abuse started. he would grab me by the back of the neck and throw me around. we were skiing in durango and i we were leaving i was playing on a snow hill in the parking lot and the next thing i know i have a hang wringing my neck.. then the next time i remember was my babysitter took me on a bike ride cuz i could not sleep later in the evening.......then i went to bed afterward and a little while after i fell asleep i felt the hand and then i was thrown against the wall and got yelled at and spit at.
This went one for a few months and then i finally did not know what to do other then go live with my dad. so i did, i told me mom about Danny, and she did not really believe me. well the courts finally said i could live with my dad.....but that is the beginning of the story for tomorrow.......the dad years.
Hope you all had fun with this exciting installment till tomorrow
Source:
Things Get Rocky
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Shardwolf: The Early Years (Part II)
This is the second part of Shardwolf's lifestury. All rights goes to the original author who posted it on Livejournal
Well lets see i left off at the Nintendo i believe so lets start from there. As i told you i was attending Rainbow Montasorri which actaully is located on 64th and Thunderbird right where my ma lives. My and my sister Kelly got along real great back then, two peas in a pod if you will. There was another couple families that had kids that we hung out with, there was Collette and Mark and then there was my sisters best friend Kristian daily. She was cool and the daily's are still some of my mom's best friends. My sister was practicing for a dance things to the song "oposites attract" and i would just run up turn it up real loud and cover my ears. I was such a little ass lol.
On my forth birthday i had a pony. It was great i had all my friends there and all sorts of things. And my dad wore a shirt that had, in big huge letters, LEAVE ME ALONE. How do you wear that to your childs 4th birday? Beyond me it is. Um well there is not too much to realy report for the first few years. oh i remember my friends made this fort and i was all like "oh i am going to make my own fort" so i made my own with plank of wood against a tree and nailed it in. Looking back i really made it cuz i felt left out and kinda did my own thing, similar to what i do today. What ended up happening was they ended up coming and helping me make it a great fort lol. We played power rangers and all that.
Well that is going to be it for the day........just kinda giving you and idea of what my early childhood was like. Tomorrow i will be starting to get to the real nitty gritty of what is also known as my life. thank you again for reading.......till next time.
Source:
The Early Years (The orignal post on Livejournal)
Well lets see i left off at the Nintendo i believe so lets start from there. As i told you i was attending Rainbow Montasorri which actaully is located on 64th and Thunderbird right where my ma lives. My and my sister Kelly got along real great back then, two peas in a pod if you will. There was another couple families that had kids that we hung out with, there was Collette and Mark and then there was my sisters best friend Kristian daily. She was cool and the daily's are still some of my mom's best friends. My sister was practicing for a dance things to the song "oposites attract" and i would just run up turn it up real loud and cover my ears. I was such a little ass lol.
On my forth birthday i had a pony. It was great i had all my friends there and all sorts of things. And my dad wore a shirt that had, in big huge letters, LEAVE ME ALONE. How do you wear that to your childs 4th birday? Beyond me it is. Um well there is not too much to realy report for the first few years. oh i remember my friends made this fort and i was all like "oh i am going to make my own fort" so i made my own with plank of wood against a tree and nailed it in. Looking back i really made it cuz i felt left out and kinda did my own thing, similar to what i do today. What ended up happening was they ended up coming and helping me make it a great fort lol. We played power rangers and all that.
Well that is going to be it for the day........just kinda giving you and idea of what my early childhood was like. Tomorrow i will be starting to get to the real nitty gritty of what is also known as my life. thank you again for reading.......till next time.
Source:
The Early Years (The orignal post on Livejournal)
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Shardwolf: The Beginning (Part I)
This is the first part of Shardwold life story. All rights goes to the original author who published his life story on LiveJournal.
Ok so this is Part One of an on going series until i am done telling my life to anyone who wants to listen. There will be times of brutal honesty, some profanity, and all in all there might be times you just might now want to read it for what ever reason. This is my disclaimer. You have been warned.
My tale begins on Feburary 3rd 1988, down here in Phoenix Arizona. i don't remember too much for the first couple years, but who really does. some of my first memories are with my friend, Taylor Norman. some of you might know his dad, Royal Norman, the channel three weatherman. he lived right across the street from me, we are just about the same age, about a year differance. we hung out a lot. we played power ranger. that was big when i was a kid.....the power ranger, at least for me it was. i think i kinda shows how i came to love superheros so much. they were my idols. i started school at rainbow motasourri. it was this house that actually a school. it was really cool. i used to prey for it to rain, we would have the whole day full of activities like coloring computer games, all sorts of stuff. my childhood is not, however all sunshine and rainbow. Enter my dad. My dad has always been the one person i have tried to impress. maybe thats why i constantly seek approval form all my friend, or anyone for that matter, because i never got that as a kid. i remember watching movies all my life from a goofy movies, to just about every father son movie, and just trying to figure out how they got it so wrong. dad's are distant, they are not like that. they don't play catch One of my earliest memories of him is i learned a whole bunch of stuff about the ocean i think. i get home and my dad was sitting in the driveway of my mom's house (they were already divorced). i was all excited, i was going to tell me DAD all this great stuff i learned......but my dad did not even appear to care, i remember my just kinda in dumbfoundness that he was so apathetic towards his own son. but that went the same for my brother brandon, who lives in NY. when i was young he would come and visit every year. he had a game boy but the only game i ever remember playing was ghost boy. i know i had one but i am pretty sure that i got it later on. one of my first christmases i was disappointed. i had wanted a super nintendo, and i opened all my gifts and nothing. then there.......hidden under the tree was one...more....gift.....my super nintendo, complete with super mario world. and then guess what happened? well if you REALLY want to know......you will have tune in tomorrow for another exciting adventure of Shard Wolf's life......next episode......The Early Years
oh and i made 120 which just proves my theroy of everything evening out, making the last two days about 75 a day lol
Source:
The Begining (original Livejournal Entry)
Ok so this is Part One of an on going series until i am done telling my life to anyone who wants to listen. There will be times of brutal honesty, some profanity, and all in all there might be times you just might now want to read it for what ever reason. This is my disclaimer. You have been warned.
My tale begins on Feburary 3rd 1988, down here in Phoenix Arizona. i don't remember too much for the first couple years, but who really does. some of my first memories are with my friend, Taylor Norman. some of you might know his dad, Royal Norman, the channel three weatherman. he lived right across the street from me, we are just about the same age, about a year differance. we hung out a lot. we played power ranger. that was big when i was a kid.....the power ranger, at least for me it was. i think i kinda shows how i came to love superheros so much. they were my idols. i started school at rainbow motasourri. it was this house that actually a school. it was really cool. i used to prey for it to rain, we would have the whole day full of activities like coloring computer games, all sorts of stuff. my childhood is not, however all sunshine and rainbow. Enter my dad. My dad has always been the one person i have tried to impress. maybe thats why i constantly seek approval form all my friend, or anyone for that matter, because i never got that as a kid. i remember watching movies all my life from a goofy movies, to just about every father son movie, and just trying to figure out how they got it so wrong. dad's are distant, they are not like that. they don't play catch One of my earliest memories of him is i learned a whole bunch of stuff about the ocean i think. i get home and my dad was sitting in the driveway of my mom's house (they were already divorced). i was all excited, i was going to tell me DAD all this great stuff i learned......but my dad did not even appear to care, i remember my just kinda in dumbfoundness that he was so apathetic towards his own son. but that went the same for my brother brandon, who lives in NY. when i was young he would come and visit every year. he had a game boy but the only game i ever remember playing was ghost boy. i know i had one but i am pretty sure that i got it later on. one of my first christmases i was disappointed. i had wanted a super nintendo, and i opened all my gifts and nothing. then there.......hidden under the tree was one...more....gift.....my super nintendo, complete with super mario world. and then guess what happened? well if you REALLY want to know......you will have tune in tomorrow for another exciting adventure of Shard Wolf's life......next episode......The Early Years
oh and i made 120 which just proves my theroy of everything evening out, making the last two days about 75 a day lol
Source:
The Begining (original Livejournal Entry)
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Allison at Cross Creek Programs
Hello, My name is Allison. I am 24 and I spent 2 years at Cross Creek Academy. from septemeber 2001- august 2003.
It was horrible. I think I was more lost and confused when I got out. It made me socially awkward and unable to think for myself. My own brother and sister were weirded out by my personality change.
They still to this day regreat that I ever went there. My sister is 10 years older then me and she has nightmares that my step mom will send me away and I come back as someone else. They said I almost seemed brainwashed. I feel like now that I am much older and going to therapy that I not only have to deal with the pain of childhood, but on top of that I have to sort through everything that happened to me at Cross Creek. I am still trying to rationalize the "processes" I had to go through. I constantly wonder "what was that suppose to teach me?"
I feel like the whole time I was there I had to survive. I had to keep all the staff happy and play these emotional games to keep pushing through so I could get out. Once, I was put on silence for 31 days. During the 31 days no one was allowed to communicate with me at all and I had to write essays. When I was done with essay's my therapist would have another girl rip it up in my face. The essay's continued over the 31 days. This included Christmas and new years. I didn't get to have any free time because I had to write these essays. Even during class I had to put my academics asside in order to try and get this impossible ammount of words my therapist assigned me.
My therapist denied me therapy during this time as well. And when I would go to him and ask him to get off the silence he would call me bad names and yell at me. When I was finally off the silence I asked him why he did that and he told me he was trying to mimick the abuse of my step father to open me up. EXCUSE ME! BUT THAT DOES NOT SEEM HEALTHY!!
When I finally came out to my parents and said that my step brother was abusive and that I was afraid to go home my therapist dropped me to level one and said that I needed to go back to the Manor because I play games with my parents. Of course after that I had to play their game and apologize to my family and tell them "I have trust issues" so I could move back up in phases. This therapist picked on certain girls. There was a group of us that tuck together and I feel that we were the most picked on by him. Once, I burned myself on the stove in the kitchen on accident and I was put on suicide watch because they thought I did it on purpose and wouldn't believe me that I didn't. Suicide watch entails being watched during your shower and going to the restroom. And you have to listen to audimated tapes on repeat and fill out questionnaires - ...ALL DAY! The list goes on and on.
I feel emotionally abused by this place and I am still in therapy because of it. Don't send you kids here. Move them out of their situation. Transfer their schools and put them in therapy. All they need is someone to listen to them. Believe it or not, but they are not acting out for no reason. One of these schools will only make things worse.
Sources:
It was horrible. I think I was more lost and confused when I got out. It made me socially awkward and unable to think for myself. My own brother and sister were weirded out by my personality change.
They still to this day regreat that I ever went there. My sister is 10 years older then me and she has nightmares that my step mom will send me away and I come back as someone else. They said I almost seemed brainwashed. I feel like now that I am much older and going to therapy that I not only have to deal with the pain of childhood, but on top of that I have to sort through everything that happened to me at Cross Creek. I am still trying to rationalize the "processes" I had to go through. I constantly wonder "what was that suppose to teach me?"
I feel like the whole time I was there I had to survive. I had to keep all the staff happy and play these emotional games to keep pushing through so I could get out. Once, I was put on silence for 31 days. During the 31 days no one was allowed to communicate with me at all and I had to write essays. When I was done with essay's my therapist would have another girl rip it up in my face. The essay's continued over the 31 days. This included Christmas and new years. I didn't get to have any free time because I had to write these essays. Even during class I had to put my academics asside in order to try and get this impossible ammount of words my therapist assigned me.
My therapist denied me therapy during this time as well. And when I would go to him and ask him to get off the silence he would call me bad names and yell at me. When I was finally off the silence I asked him why he did that and he told me he was trying to mimick the abuse of my step father to open me up. EXCUSE ME! BUT THAT DOES NOT SEEM HEALTHY!!
When I finally came out to my parents and said that my step brother was abusive and that I was afraid to go home my therapist dropped me to level one and said that I needed to go back to the Manor because I play games with my parents. Of course after that I had to play their game and apologize to my family and tell them "I have trust issues" so I could move back up in phases. This therapist picked on certain girls. There was a group of us that tuck together and I feel that we were the most picked on by him. Once, I burned myself on the stove in the kitchen on accident and I was put on suicide watch because they thought I did it on purpose and wouldn't believe me that I didn't. Suicide watch entails being watched during your shower and going to the restroom. And you have to listen to audimated tapes on repeat and fill out questionnaires - ...ALL DAY! The list goes on and on.
I feel emotionally abused by this place and I am still in therapy because of it. Don't send you kids here. Move them out of their situation. Transfer their schools and put them in therapy. All they need is someone to listen to them. Believe it or not, but they are not acting out for no reason. One of these schools will only make things worse.
Sources:
Sunday, March 17, 2013
JFriedlander at Island View
Interesting that I found this site. Anyways, I was at Island View for 13 months from Aug 99- Sep 00. Though I hated my stay there it did do some good for me, Iâ??m graduating from college this year and attending a graduate program in Psych oddly enough. Despite the positives I received from this program I still have nightmares almost every night where I wake up in that fucking building. For spring break in 2004 I drove from Colorado to southern California and decided to make a quick pit stop in good ole Syracuse UT. Upon arriving in the parking lot I had to get out and puke. Fuck that place, I never wish anyone to have the experiences that I had in attendance. If any of yall remember Tony I am still in contact with him, he abandoned IV soon after I left the program to start up his own.
Speaking of which... I managed to get in contact with a few of the people Lets see....
I also remember that they had me on so many psychotropic that I couldnâ??t think half of the time. It was like I was stuck in a shell of a body and was unable to feel anything. Upon graduation I got off of those drugs ASAP and have been doing fine ever since.
Out of all of the people in the program I would have to say fuck the staff the most, Fuck Kendall, fuck Sherry. I remember once Kenall threw me in that room because we were on 'unit arrest' or what ever it was called because I thanked him for the food he brought me. His justification was that I spoke when we were told to not speak. I got pretty angry about that and asked him "Why are you being so fucking rude?" he picked me up and threw me into wall and told the staff the reason why my head was bleeding was because I did it to myself. ( I was admitted for drugs mostly, but no self mutalation) As a result of this more staff was called in. They held me down and gave me a injection of thorezine and I woke up the next day with bruises on my head. I told my therapist at the time, but he didnt belive me.
Despite the EXTREME negative experiance I had in Utah, I will admitt that there was some good to it. My grades did improve, I got into a good undergrad program and a good grad program, and for the most part I cut down on drugs (I only drink now but Im 22 and that aint illegal). The folks in charge of the IV program seriously because it does have some great potential.
PS
another thing that pissed me off is when my parents tried to convince me that what they did was harder on them that it was on me, that is bull shit. To any parent reading this thread: I understand it is difficult to send your child away, belive me I do (I currently work for a non-prof at risk adolecent program, and I see parents send thier children away quite frequently). You cannot possibly imagine what your child goes through in these programs. For the most part I think everyone whom has attened one of these programs will tell you that it did in fact scar them in some way for the rest of their life. for me, it is the nightmares, I can deal with that. Some people however cannot, my friend Blake for example, have you ever been to a funeral for a 17 year old kid who committed suicide by eating a bottle of the very drug that was prescribed to him by IV? Im willing to bet not. Also to any kid that just got out of that program and is spouting out the usuall RTC high that people tend to get post graduation, wait a year when the nightmares of returning dont go away and then tell me that IV had no adverse side effects.
Sources:
Speaking of which... I managed to get in contact with a few of the people Lets see....
- Blake: killed him self 6 months after graduation
- Sean: Jail
- Mike: Jail
- Greg: Jail
- Porter: went home for a visit on halloween of 99, did an Extacy binge at a halloween rave.
I also remember that they had me on so many psychotropic that I couldnâ??t think half of the time. It was like I was stuck in a shell of a body and was unable to feel anything. Upon graduation I got off of those drugs ASAP and have been doing fine ever since.
Out of all of the people in the program I would have to say fuck the staff the most, Fuck Kendall, fuck Sherry. I remember once Kenall threw me in that room because we were on 'unit arrest' or what ever it was called because I thanked him for the food he brought me. His justification was that I spoke when we were told to not speak. I got pretty angry about that and asked him "Why are you being so fucking rude?" he picked me up and threw me into wall and told the staff the reason why my head was bleeding was because I did it to myself. ( I was admitted for drugs mostly, but no self mutalation) As a result of this more staff was called in. They held me down and gave me a injection of thorezine and I woke up the next day with bruises on my head. I told my therapist at the time, but he didnt belive me.
Despite the EXTREME negative experiance I had in Utah, I will admitt that there was some good to it. My grades did improve, I got into a good undergrad program and a good grad program, and for the most part I cut down on drugs (I only drink now but Im 22 and that aint illegal). The folks in charge of the IV program seriously because it does have some great potential.
PS
another thing that pissed me off is when my parents tried to convince me that what they did was harder on them that it was on me, that is bull shit. To any parent reading this thread: I understand it is difficult to send your child away, belive me I do (I currently work for a non-prof at risk adolecent program, and I see parents send thier children away quite frequently). You cannot possibly imagine what your child goes through in these programs. For the most part I think everyone whom has attened one of these programs will tell you that it did in fact scar them in some way for the rest of their life. for me, it is the nightmares, I can deal with that. Some people however cannot, my friend Blake for example, have you ever been to a funeral for a 17 year old kid who committed suicide by eating a bottle of the very drug that was prescribed to him by IV? Im willing to bet not. Also to any kid that just got out of that program and is spouting out the usuall RTC high that people tend to get post graduation, wait a year when the nightmares of returning dont go away and then tell me that IV had no adverse side effects.
Sources:
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