I
wanted to write you a story all soaked in love and pretty things, but instead
it’s going to be about rat scum, the blistering soul music of choking on
personal shortcomings, and maybe a joke or two. Bad jokes at that, certainly
nothing like comedians are doing these days with their hyper-intelligent
breakdown of cultural idiosyncratic tendencies by way of reflection based wit.
Will
you laugh at my jokes about museum quality antiques going up in flames while a
house full of puppies burns?
I’m
not so sure your sense of humor—wish I could get a feel for that before writing
the story, because you know, once the ink’s on the page it’s a bit too late for
regrets. I prefer to live with an abject awareness and semi-permanent psychologically
unsound box of my personal mental fabrication to insulate them out, regrets
that is. I’ve heard of better ways I suppose, but who has the time or money for
that?
Certainly
if you have to confront some dilapidated and uncomfortable feelings at some
point that may smack of inadequacy, do it in stand up fashion and just face the
music. Life can be good, it can be shit, and a myriad of shit colored varieties
mixed in between. Doesn’t have to dictate the characters we all play on the
larger stage, we can so eloquently write our own flaws.
Otherwise
it would be like taking diction from some phone line person babbling away while
they get busy scuttling their own sense of disgust by third-party. I don’t know
about you, but I don’t want to be that kind of ethical whore who is susceptible
to that kind of mind game. Willing to uproot and gag down on the more
successful perspective because they had the audacious idea of getting to it
first so they could be in better position for the final thrust?
Emotional
purification through mindfuckery and a psychological blow job seems far too
easy a road out if you ask me.
Like
I said, I don’t know your sense of humor, so I’m not sure whether I should pull
back a bit on the off color commentary for your sake. Then again, I don’t know
your personality either and maybe you’re one of those people that appreciates a
no-holds barred rigmarole tirade of non-penitent truths delivered in the voice
of the speaker who says it how it is instead of how they want it to be.
Or
you aren’t and you’re one of those deceitful little rat fucks that huddles
behind false smiles and bravado attitude that refuses to be honest even with
yourself and is liable to turn tail and betray the trust of others faster than
the lab tech can reload your daily selection of cheddar, medium not sharp.
I
really hope that’s not the case though, and if there’s any sense to this
fantastical story and scheme that I’ve been told about the genetic structure
and predisposition of whatchamahoosit chromosomes and mitochondrial DNA, then
I’m fairly certain you aren’t like that.
Blood
fairy constitution by virtue of dad’s semi-descended Oingo Boingo soundtrack
and mom’s canal of misjudgment.
I feel rather than see the presence of another one, no two humans as they enter my shaded glen of woodworked perfection. One of them is liquored to the gills and the smell of morning whisky stains against my paneling not unlike the lacquer of years past when first I was blessed in methanol fumes. It is the bigger of the two, the other is waif-like and barely disturbs the air around her in the passing. The smaller flits across the greenery pooled around me as though she were afraid that lighting too long in any one spot would leave an indelible and unforgivable impression.
I have heard the clangs of bells
all morning, their reverberations, their metallic dance of proud beasts struck
with reverence. It must be a Sunday and soon all will be making their way to my
embrace to share the welcome capturing of wood on ass and food in gut. Before
the end of today I will grow mountains of items hot and cold to be plucked at
by the scuttling people who traipse around my body in their semi-drunken wobble
of tipsy delight, a special salsa to
a beat that only they can hear.
Now, now it is too early for people to be joining me and I wonder at the carefree interlopers to my beachside glen….thunk.
Melted and reformed glass slams down on me, fizzy bubbles escape to run down the side and douse my groin in a champagne vignette of merriment.
The small one places a foot on my
leg and presses itself up, and up again so that their feet stand stably on my
strapped belly. Firm and confident, they still feel loose and comfortable,
butterfly toes and bumblebee bellies hold more weight.
A shuffle above and some shimmying
results in linen dropping loose and falling down across my arms, a double whump as harder hoof pieces trip off a
shoulder to settle thump thump into
the grass pond. I can sense the delight mounting as several more pieces come
unraveled from around the tiny beast zip,
zoots, zot and finish raining down around us.
Atop my chest now the hooves begin
to tap out a rhythmic pattern, like the wasps who dance to each other instead
of speaking. The toes slide, tap…tap,
slide…slide tap and the body begins to whirlwind around itself faster
compelled by something far beyond my understanding.
The human beast wears nothing but their skin.
Just skin and sunlight and the dancing partner of shadowed leaves racing to
keep the pace. Skin changes colors and arrangement, from light pink at the
points of her hillside chest to cream spotted with kisses from the sun in
freckled patterns haloed in healthy Earth toned brown silhouetted by the great
azure ocean above.
I am enthralled. It does not hurt,
I have never been a dancefloor before now. Though once a man did tie a throat
rope up to the thicker of branches overhead and do a soundless jig in mid-air,
his shadowy feet casting wildly about until they moved no more.
Today I am something new.
The champagne runs between fingers
and the larger beast laughs, guffaws, others are stopping to stare. I don’t
mind them. They can’t yet see but come next Sunday there will be new secrets
painted across me, applied one freedom filled dirty footstep at a time.
Cataplectic trivia machine your spouting lips reek of condensation. You’ve got no regal power here in the middle of obscenity sweetly hot and dolefully serene.
I’ll placate your taste with battery acid in the form of verbal diatribe. Such saccharine bullshit you ooze it’s baffling that your mouth ever shuts.
Babble me nonsense in the form of queries ask questions to delight your senses. Baby, its scented in fetid rage, driven poorly by hate spasmadic derivations in primordial cage.
Don’t bathe me in salt water or red laced tears of regret, lets summon the monsters from the serpentine depths where they sleep in egress.
No trivia machine will skullfuck my thoughts where why’s and hows drive what we know. Blizzard the minds eye in cold sheets of intellectual snow.
I’ve posted at various points about the women I had been in meaningful relationships with over the past several years. I’ve started the process of trying to own my mistakes and damaging choices that I made which wrongly hurt so many. I’m not expecting forgiveness nor looking for absolution – I simply want them to know that I see, finally, what I was doing, and that I am using that knowledge to change – but that I am truly sorry that I never gave validation to their suffering or trials as my partner.
The woman in the picture is my wife. We have been married for nearly a year now and during that period, for nearly 7-months of that I was in a schizoaffective psychosis that made it excruciating at points for us to interact. I left her for another woman, an ex, and then came crawling back as the hallucinations and delusions became too much. She welcomed back a broken and distorted man who was in the middle of, very literally, losing his mind.
At various points during what should have been our honeymoon period, I was convinced that she was in collusion with a massive entity that had designs on my life or was controlling and manipulating every facet of my existence. At others she was the embodiment of every other woman from my past, down to peculiar quirks, gestures and habits. She was going to be my executor and was part of the CIA, maybe she was part of a higher learning classroom where the objective was to transfer the emotional condition of each unknowing participant to their partner in order to engender sympathy and empathetic understanding of their challenges, she had been solicited by the local police force as part of an investigation into me and was the only reason I wasn’t in jail, we were unified spirits finally returning to each others company as we had been separated at birth, I was an android, we were both part of a “Matrix” style computer simulation, we were in a computer simulation again but this time it was part of a pre-death effort to recover functional control of the potential disability funds that I was too apply for – we were both on our way out and there was a timed limit to how long we could be sustained, she was god, she was my mother, she was my sister really, we were siblings, we were part of a government solicited experimental project that dated back into the early 1960s and was consistent with mind control practices used by the CIA and the conditioning had finally started to falter and a reset was needed in order for us to continue on, the experiment was over and the pain was from the conditioning being wiped, I was part of a TV show and was always considered an overindulgent jackass but the popularity had hit a decline and now the producers were reworking to see if they could salvage what had been a massive financial expenditure, there were patterns in all of the lights and colors that indicated specific events that would be forthcoming, the patterns were there to trigger latent programming in my mind to demand I act in certain ways……on and on and on.
Heather dealt with accusations, assertions, demands that were incredible unreasonable, threats, hostile looks, battered and desperate sobs, breakdowns, manipulations on her reality to try and line up with what seemed to be gaslighting, and capped with endless triggers to her own trauma that brought it back into full swing for her PTSD – she walked down the same road as I, holding my hand while my mind shattered and I became completely incapable of functioning in any sort of a way. I became wholly dependent on her emotionally and often physically as I would need direction to do the simplest of tasks.
I don’t know how she did it, I can’t imagine the entire extent of psychological and emotional damage she endured for that period – all while being judged and criticized by her family for standing by the side of a “schizophrenic drug addict” to such an extent all support and contact was removed.
She is truly incredible. Today, I am enrolled in college full time studying towards a law degree. We own a small RV that barely functions but acts as home. Support comes in from my family as we have actually rebuilt a degree of trust and love now that I am on a steady and clear path forward. They see the efforts that we have put in and the support we’ve given each other. When Heather broke down and checked into the local hospital, I was able to be there as a steady support and ensure that she was taken care of and all the outside concerns were handled so she could relax.
I was shattered at one point to the level that while sitting in the hospital with a deep wound from breaking a window in frustration that I didn’t know my name, my gender, my birthday, anything beyond that I was sitting in a hospital. She nurtured and helped grow me back into an actual function adult, and a partner that adores and supports (as best he can) her in turn – trying to reciprocate what she extended so freely despite the obstacles.
I love her to pieces, she astonishes me with her creativity, emotional connection to the larger whole, altruism, sympathy, caring and respectful behavior towards anyone and everyone – completely free of judgement. She is loyal beyond what could ever be expected of someone to endure and when she sets her mind to any task she has such a commitment as I can only dream of. For all her peculiar little quirks and certainly acknowledging that we all have faults, she is one of the most remarkable people I have ever met with a story that would bring any rational person to their knees in disbelief. She has been on quite the journey with me, and I am proud to finally be returning what she invested – surely to the disbelief of anyone who was in doubt of her decision if they were still paying any attention.
Most what I admire however is the truthfulness she embodies in every action and conversation throughout the day. Coupled with her open mindedness regarding life and non-judgemental mentality, we can speak openly about our challenges, desires, mistakes, fuck-ups, and everything in between. She has challenged me to have such a degree of integrity as she does, to walk the walk and own my actions, to grow by mimicry at first and then taking my own steps. She and I are building a life together, starting from nothing, but laying every component carefully so as to have the most solid of foundation–something neither of us has ever done.
We truly have been through one hell of a ride, but today we are able to laugh, enjoy some precious moments, and be secure in our connection to each other, knowing that nothing can, or will, break us apart.
All rights to Xionicjester @ Deviant Art “Nightmare Bunny”
Supple supplicants, their lips all red in hue, bound down to sultry appetites so rigid and so few. Clasping tight a night bound pen, it’s nub a point of twilight glen. We never got beyond this spot, where shear cast moons broke down to stars, eternities gates and Pandora’s box. We never got so far, As to chase the mystic rabbits beyond, Seek out the mystery the hold, Ones for the tykes–the other the bold. Feeling tracks into the ether, Its nebulous now this fucking thief named Peter, We’ll tie him down in briar hot, Filled with thorns and a boiling pot. Unlace his skin again, Drunk full of life and his lovely sin.
Note: having a bit of a manic weird day when writing this one. -S
Liquid snake is common compare, The river beneath the milk puddled blue. Joy soaks all the green that grows, in hedges, lengthy strides and by rows. Here I watch the ever present of growth Here I see the catalyzing mystery, of what comes next. Along the banks of of proud water, scales made from ripples, a mirrored surface refracting radiance, royal and haunted eye azure to dazzle. A bewitching tone of cerulean as you would see skull mounted to the face of a person of purest pale. Baby, wouldn’t you take the briefest of moments, to pause, to break the doldrums of repetition. To slither our bodies the distance across and along that charmed prism of color. We can be washed clean of the need for forgiveness, though we might beg abruptly, for the sky to open, and cleanse us in the love of yesteryears. When trouble was nothing but childsplay, whispered dreams were sought and chased. found, pursued and realized. We would go floating, Bucolic and serene on tides of hope.
In a world of neurotypical individuals—those that have brain chemistry considered normal under any accepted societal standard—it is impossible to be fully understood as a neurodivergent individual in terms other than described in the terminology and stigma of one’s diagnosed condition. The basic reasoning behind the stance is that while a neurotypical individual may seek to connect empathetically they simply lack the peculiar mental quirks that would allow them to experience the world in a similar enough capacity to enjoinder a true sympathetic response and facilitate open rapport on a significant level. Both of these are relatively new terms that are gaining in popularity and acceptance following in tow with the Neurodiversity Movement which seeks to strengthen the popular theory that rather than engendering through a stigmatized population the acceptance and understanding needed by those that fall under the current header of mentally ill it is possible to change the overall perspective and the conversation itself
This is a good point to establish a clear cut definition
of what I mean by neurodivergent. Nick Walker does a wonderful job presenting
this through his advocacy website and defines neurodivergent as “having a brain
that functions in ways that diverge significantly from the dominant societal
standards of ‘normal.’” Some common examples would include autism, schizophrenia,
dyslexia, or epilepsy. Within these neurominorities exists a continuum of
specialized perception and thought patterns that are often referred to as
distortions from the normal way of processing information and ideas. In more
extreme cases, the manifestation of this can take the form of hallucinations,
delusions, paranoia, or even extreme intelligence isolated to select areas of
expertise. Speaking as an individual diagnosed as multiply neurodivergent through
extensive brain changes owing to Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
(C-PTSD) and schizoaffective bipolar disorder, I can attest to how isolating
the current paradigm can feel even as there are those that reach out their
hands to cross the neuroverse to create a bridge of hope.
As noted by Patrick Corrigan and Amy Watson in their
study to understand the impact of stigmas on people with mental illness,
“…people with mental illness are robbed of the opportunities that define a
quality of life: good jobs, safe housing, satisfactory health care, and
affiliation with a diverse group of people.” They conjecture that this happens
because of a dual stigma that exists in regard to mental illness that
exacerbates stressors of the underlying personal and societal pressures we all
face and compounds the challenges faced by the mentally ill—or by our new
definition—neurodivergent person. “Table 1” has a beautiful breakdown of their
stigma specific findings relating to those afflicted with mental illnesses.
Table 1
Comparing
and contrasting the definitions of public stigma and self-stigma
Public
stigma
Stereotype
Negative belief about a group
(e.g., dangerousness, incompetence, character weakness)
Prejudice
Agreement with belief and/or
negative emotional reaction (e.g., anger, fear)
Discrimination
Behavior response to prejudice
(e.g., avoidance, withhold employment and housing opportunities, withhold
help)
Self-stigma
Stereotype
Negative belief about the self
(e.g., character weakness, incompetence)
Behavior response to prejudice
(e.g., fails to pursue work and housing opportunities)
In essence, as those coined mentally ill find it, they
are stigmatized both by society as a whole and by themselves—I know I’ve found
the latter to be sometimes the more difficult proposition to deal with many
times in my life. So what about changing the tone of the conversation through
simple adjustment to the vernacular? Neurodiversity is the idea that we are all
part of a neurologically complex network of individuals for whom there may well
be no standard normal from which to deviate when taken at the grandest of
scales. Building from Watson and Corrigan’s work, it is the concept that there
is an imposition of normalcy placed on us by societies and self that could be
adjusted to reflect instead a microcosm of beautiful and talented people with
highly segmented skills, assets, gifts, and attributes amongst the “special”
portions of the population.
My original statement does hold; for instance, I do not
believe that I could adequately explain in great enough detail to a
neurotypical individual the emotional turbulence and isolating idiosyncratic
moments that emerged from being fully delusional and believing that I was an
android after losing my own personal identity to the extent that I didn’t know
even my own gender. It’s simply an unfathomable state to consider finding
oneself in, I mean after all, we all know where to look to discover what gender
we are. Brett Heasman and Alex Gillespie suggest in a study “…that
neurodivergent intersubjectivity reveals potential for unconventional forms of
social relating and that a within-interaction analysis is a viable methodology
for exploring neurodivergent communication.” In essence, scientists out there
are working on improving the understanding of how to improve on the degrees of
communication required to more fully bridge the gap to create a neurodiverse
interactivity that would allow us to tap the remarkable talents of all the
people out there regardless of genetic predisposition and structure. For me,
this is also an acknowledgement that currently, we aren’t quite there yet.
All things considered however, I too share a dream of inclusion like Mr. King did years ago. That one day those things that make me unique amongst all the other two legged flowers out there won’t be a hindrance, but might yet be construed as an asset that I can bloom to my fullest extent. We are all radiant in our own ways, neurotypical and neurodivergent alike; it’s part of the dramatic portrait that paints humanity the multitude of colors we show as on the spectrum of life.
Heasman, Brett & Gillespie, Alex. Neurodivergent intersubjectivity: distinctive features of how autistic people create shared understanding. 2018 August 3 https://doi.org/10.1177/1362361318785172
…took awhile to get there, but yeah, I’m sorry mom despite it all.
After just starting my 2nd quarter back in school after 16+ years since I last attended I wanted to share a few pieces that I was really proud of from the quarter that actually start to show a change of pace and rhythm in thought after all these years. Finished with an “A” in English comp, first time I think that letter ever showed on the board with me my entire life, so feeling accomplished and appreciative for the chance to continue this education journey. This was an argumentative essay on a topic near and dear to both my wife and myself. Thanks so much for reading. -S
There is a hotly debated though rarely seen battle for
the freedom from, and recognition of, ongoing systemic child abuse done
knowingly at the hands of privatized institutions known as Therapeutic
Communities (TC’s). Their purported goal is to take the disenfranchised
attendees while they are in their formative teenage years and reroute them from
a destructive path through life. The perfect client is primarily from an
affluent or privileged family able to afford the exorbitant cost of this
outsourced fostering which takes place in a boarding school setting which
allows them to function under the pretense of educational establishments. In
fact, there is a multilayered industry complete with expensive “educational
consultants” and “transport agents” who very precisely go about the process of
removing a prospective charge from their family environment and relocate them
to isolated facilities scattered both nationally and internationally. What is
baffling, is that there is a seemingly lopsided agreement on the distress that
these programs cause by virtue of treatment methodologies that many suggest
were originally developed by the CIA as part of their interrogation and
brainwashing research. With such a resounding recognition on the lips of each
survivor of these programs who tells their tale, how is it that they still
exist? I’d like to explore the ins and outs of what makes these programs tick
because I believe the concept that parents are sold on of a happier and more
satisfied adult through personal understanding is not misplaced—but the current
manner that is used to facilitate growth is unacceptable and MUST be changed.
The sales pitch for the “Troubled Teen Programs” (TTP) to
parents is concise and overwhelming in opportunistic advantage when presented
to parents in situations where they are afraid for the health and wellbeing of
their child or children. By offering a well regimented schedule including
extra-curricular activities, schooling, access to a therapeutic component and
family workshops, TTPs offer to provide an articulated course in productive
living which will be adopted by the now healthy minded youth and improve their
overall approach to life, making them happier and healthier, body and mind.
However, as documented in a congressionally reviewed study by the United States
Government Accountability Office (GAO) entitled “Residential Treatment Programs: Concerns Regarding Abuse and Death in
Certain Programs for Troubled Youth” the promises made are rarely delivered
on and often are nothing but fluffed wording to entice desperate families to
make a costly mistake in sending away their child. To quote, “GAO found
thousands of allegations of abuse, some of which involved death, at residential
treatment programs across the country and in American-owned and
American-operated facilities abroad between the years of 1990 and 2007…For example
during 2005 alone, 33 states reported 1,619 staff members involved in incidents
of abuse in residential programs. GAO could not identify a more concrete number
of allegations because it could not locate a single Web site, federal agency or
other entity that collects comprehensive nationwide data.” This seems wildly
incongruous with the stated mission of safely guiding teens to a more
productive path.
The GAO study continues by citing specific deaths at the
hands of the multiple wilderness based programs such as Catherine Freer which
commonly act as the gateway to longer term residential locations. Two of clear
note in the study include:
Female, 15, cause of death dehydration.
Showed signs of illness for 2 days such as blurred vision, vomiting water, and
frequent stumbling. Collapsed and died while hiking. Lay dead in the road for
18 hours. Program brochure advertised staff as highly trained survival experts.
Male, 15, cause of death internal
bleeding. Head-injury victim with behavioral challenges who refused to return
to campsite. Restrained by staff and held face down in the dirt for 45 minutes.
Died of a severed artery in the neck. Death ruled a homicide.
I note the inconsistency
with the marketed literature from the female victim’s program as intensely
indicative of the overall industry approach to such—present parents with what
they know they want to hear, not the real story which would note the
incompetence of staff or their unwillingness to raise their own standards to
such a level as to meet with their stated qualifications. In an open statement
before congress the head of the National Association of Therapeutic Schools and
Programs (NATSAP) which “oversees” at least 180 programs nationally as the
accrediting party—more on that to come—stated to congress in 2007 that “we are
committed to working with Congress, the states, other organizations, and
parents to ensure that regulations and legislation provide for realistic and
workable therapeutic programs that meet the highest standards of care.” Her statement
was directly resulting from investigative media and the GAO study noted above
into the alarming rates of abuse at the facilities licensed by NATSAP, however,
no further oversight committees were formed, no legislation passed, nothing
changed.
Why so much abuse? The program methodologies approved for
use include the use of restraints which as noted by Sean Hennessey, a direct
care staff coordinator at a program describes as, “….pinning a kid to the
ground until they stop fighting and start crying, it’s barbaric if you think
about it.” One question I would ask the reader is whether the above scenario
enacted in the home with a teenage child and parents would be construed as
acceptable practice or viewed as overly disciplinarian. Moreover, many programs
ascribe to behavior modification techniques and tactics—while it is not
critical to this paper to delve deeply into those techniques to share a
suggestion for necessary changes to be made in this field I would like to note
to the reader that these methods include sleep deprivation, repetitious
exercises, hard manual labor, starvation, and Pavlovian conditioning designed
to break the spirit and personality of a grown adult, hence why they are often
also used during interrogations by the CIA. Overall program philosophy in
practical application is massively divergent from what is presented to parents,
something that despite a lack of transparency in communication between child
and family should be readily apparent based on what is most commonly the first
interaction with teen and program, the transport process.
Regarding the “sensitive ethical issues related to
involuntary treatment of adolescents…” as documented in a paper published by
the Child Youth Care Forum (CYCF) where the transport process was investigated
to determine whether it was supportive in nature of the goals of treatment it
is important to understand what that transport looks like. For Heather
Lamberton at the age of 15 it was two male plainclothes individuals flashing
falsified police badges at her while she was at home wearing just a t-shirt and
underwear. She was handcuffed and refused time to put on pants before being
bundled into a car and subsequently a hotel where she was forced to bed down
next to a male stranger who would not explain what their destination was nor
why she was being detained. The following day she was delivered to her program
where she would spend the next 2-years in hard manual labor, no parents present
to say goodbye or explain what was happening. Aside from the illicit nature of
presenting as police officers and kidnapping a child what is shocking is that
the study from CYCF supports the process by relaying a finding that “…transported
youth were more likely to have larger decreased [sic] in mental health
symptomology than non-transported youth suggesting that being transported did
not have a negative impact on treatment outcomes.” In what sort of a well
governed and managed industry are illegal activities researched and regarded as
non-detrimental when they involve the degradation of the mental health of
children and accept a certain amount of loss as normalized?
One of the few articles I was able to find that was
supportive of the current program approach to treatment lists details of a study
conducted at the request of Aspen Education Group and says their findings show,
“Troubled teens with serious emotional and behavioral issues not only improve
during treatment at a private therapeutic residential program but they maintain
their healthier outlooks and functioning long after leaving the program.” While
the statistics used seem to suggest the legitimacy of how the study was
conducted including multi-year follow ups I am skeptical considering that the
two parties responsible for the study include Aspen (one of the world’s largest
program operators) and NATSAP who purports to be the licensure group overseeing
180+ programs as their national trade association. It raises concerns when the
only pro-program documentation that can be found is published by the
association that takes its earnings from the fees assessed to its member
organizations which are the programs in question, there is a degree of
hypocrisy and self-interest apparent that casts legitimacy into doubt.
Taking all of the above into consideration it is apparent that current TTP operation is a long way from where it should by all rights be. To my original point, I would advocate that TTPs be forced by extensive national/international, state, and local oversight committees to abide by clearly defined regulations prohibiting the use of transport agents, restraints, and behavior modification techniques when working with children. Annual reporting should be made to a single centralized branch of the government responsible for ensuring the safety and conditions of children, any deviation or violation from the established protocols established should be met with actual legal ramifications rather than simple fines. These schools are exorbitantly costly, up to the tune of $6,500 a month per student, despite minimal overhead, and I believe it is important that rather than hit the deep coffers these kinds of rates make available, punitive action in the form of legal recrimination would be far more effective. Communication lines should be fully accessible and available between children and families at all times, not monitored phone calls as low as once a week or month as is currently the case. This would enjoinder much clearer transparency and allow clear accountability in the event a suspect case was emerging.
The dream that these programs sell is one that I would
buy off on were the other parameters more effectively in place through a
trustworthy organization to manage and oversee universally with adequate
staffing and documented funding in place. Parents that choose to send their
children to these programs are often at their wits end and devastated by
watching the challenges of behavioral and mental health issues materialize. They
are as much victims in many ways as the children themselves and it is
heartbreaking to learn more about an industry that is so domineered by pariahs
that they choose to prey on a tear-stained mother or hand wringing father. No
good parent wants their child to suffer, much less to the tune of thousands of
dollars and misinformation. The changes I’ve suggested would change the entire
dynamic within the industry and demand better and more successful treatment
methods be used in gentler fashion with a highly vulnerable segment of the
population. Stop abusing children in the name of the almighty dollar.
Works
Cited
“GAO; Residential Treatment
Programs: Concerns Regarding Abuse and Death in Certain Programs for Troubled
Youth.” USA Government Accountability
Office. Published: October 10th, 2007.
“NATSAP; Aspen Education
Group; Teen Therapeutic Residential Programs Can Have Lasting Positive Effects,
New Study Says.” Biotech Business Week, Atlanta, 2007, p. 433.
“State Licensure and Oversight Necessary.” Health
& Medicine Week, 2007, p. 766.
Tucker, Anita, et al. “The
Role of Transport Use in Adolescent Wilderness Treatment: Its Relationship to
Readiness to Change and Outcomes.” Child & Youth Care Forum, vol.
44, no. 5, 2015, pp. 671–686., doi:10.1007/s10566-015-9301-6.
Waldman, Annie. “Kids Get Hurt at Residential Schools while States Look on.” ProPublica, Dec 15 2015, Proquest. Web. 8 Mar 2019
To Ink - a blog from Melting Neurons 