In my last post, I described how at Red Rock Canyon, a facility that operates in the troubled teen industry (TTI), we were imprisoned, and one of my friends died. I also describe how we would carve on our legs with razor blades to try to numb the pain. Here, I describe how I continued on…
The Path to Self-Destruction
I don’t remember how, I or we (me and my little friend) got caught carving on our legs, but when we did, I don’t think it was a huge deal. I remember that put me on “suicide watch” for a month.
I know this was just a symbolic act; I mean they had to do something…
But they should have known people really don’t try to kill themselves by cutting. I mean, my right thigh is not the most lethal place.
Another month with the flickering flourescent lights blazing all night long. I’m not sure they even told my parents. Perhaps it was mentioned in therapy. I don’t really know; I was probably confronted heavily in group. I mean, it’s embarrassing! I can’t even believe I am writing this, to be honest.
Gluttony and Starvation
I was pretty self-destructive in Utah. I stopped eating as well. I mean, I didn’t stop eating completely. Everyone at Red Rock complained about getting fat because of the starchy food, so I took it upon myself to eat nothing but vegetables with ranch dressing for quite some time. Ranch dressing was huge in Utah, I guess in those areas people would put it on everything! Pizza, sphaghetti, you name it! They really did! People would dunk their big, fat thick slices of rectangular pizza right in a tub of ranch. I would stick to my carrots an broccoli pieces with ranch.
I got even thinner than I usually was, and with my slight 5 foot one inch frame, I was (and still am) petite. I would also vigourously exercise whenever I could. I assume this was another form of trying to regain control when all was lost. I needed something, anything that I could control and my cutting and food reduction and exercise regimen were my salvation.
Speaking of Suicide…
Although I was trapped in a prison, I was liberated in a way during my time at Red Rock. Something happened. I don’t know how far I was in my program, but I remember being called to my therapist’s office to be told something.
I was told that Tony had died; he committed suicide.
They told me like I would be sad about this! I know it was a shock, and I did feel bad for his two kids; in fact that was my response: “How are his kids???”, but I wasn’t sad. Was I supposed to be? I didn’t express how I felt at the time, but to this day I’m not sad about it.
The story goes, while I was in Utah, my mom ran off to Mexico, perhaps to escape him. You see, this is what happens when you decide to forge a relationship with a patient; they end up going crazy on you. Not only did he abuse me and my sister, he abused my mother as well, and “gave her horrible PTSD”. So I guess while I was in treatment, and after he was bailed out of jail (by her) for sexually abusing me, she ran off to Mexico.
Then, I don’t know how long after he left, Tony’s dad walked into my mom’s house looking for Tony and found him hanging from one of the rafters in the kitchens high ceiling. Allegedly, the words “now you’re safe” were scrawled onto the wall, but I don’t know how true that is. I heard all of this in bits and pieces.
Leaving Red Rock
Anyway, I eventually graduated Red Rock. I came out in the end a bit scarred, but no worse for the wear. I did learn a lot about Native American culture because they had a large Native American population, since local reservations had such high drug and alcohol addiction rates, and sometimes the wounded children would end up there.
So I graduated; I finally got to wear my normal clothes and go for a walk by myself down St. George Blvd. But this is not the end of my story. Little did I know, that only about a year later I would be in some place much worse. In my posts to come, I will describe my adventures at S.A.F.E. Inc.
Do you know a story about a psychiatrist having a relationship with a patient? How did it end up?
Comment below and tell us the story!