Nightmares. Flashbacks. Pain. Screams. Terror. Agony. More pain. More terror. No one loves me. Nobody cares. My family doesn't want me. Alone. I'm alone. Help! Can anyone hear me?? HELP!
That pretty much describes the 2 most devastating years of my life. The years I should of been spending in high school. The years I should of been going out on a first date, making memories, going to prom, and graduating high school. Instead, I'm in hell.
It all started on June 13, 2007. For many months, I had been volunteering at the local nursing home in Lake City, Florida. Like any other day, this day was a warm, sunny day. I could feel the warmth of the sun as I hurried out of the house to the car. I was headed to the nursing home to volunteer more. I was a sweet kid. Elderly people loved me. I spent many, many hours a week dedicating my time to them. It wasn't community service hours. I wasn't in trouble. I was just a kid who cared.
My mom and I got in the car and we headed onto the interstate. I was excited to see my old people (as I called them), but little did I know that things would not be anything near what I expected. My mom drove past the exit we were supposed to get off on. I knew then that something was wrong. The next exit would of been Georgia if she would have continued driving North. I started panicking. I knew something was wrong. It was so quiet! My mom was acting strangely. She finally told me she was taking me to a program. I panicked even more. She refused to tell me anything more. When we stopped at a gas station, she acted as if I was a prisoner and she was guarding me. I felt very trapped. There was no way out.
That pretty much describes the 2 most devastating years of my life. The years I should of been spending in high school. The years I should of been going out on a first date, making memories, going to prom, and graduating high school. Instead, I'm in hell.
It all started on June 13, 2007. For many months, I had been volunteering at the local nursing home in Lake City, Florida. Like any other day, this day was a warm, sunny day. I could feel the warmth of the sun as I hurried out of the house to the car. I was headed to the nursing home to volunteer more. I was a sweet kid. Elderly people loved me. I spent many, many hours a week dedicating my time to them. It wasn't community service hours. I wasn't in trouble. I was just a kid who cared.
My mom and I got in the car and we headed onto the interstate. I was excited to see my old people (as I called them), but little did I know that things would not be anything near what I expected. My mom drove past the exit we were supposed to get off on. I knew then that something was wrong. The next exit would of been Georgia if she would have continued driving North. I started panicking. I knew something was wrong. It was so quiet! My mom was acting strangely. She finally told me she was taking me to a program. I panicked even more. She refused to tell me anything more. When we stopped at a gas station, she acted as if I was a prisoner and she was guarding me. I felt very trapped. There was no way out.
We arrived in Pace, Florida around 6 to 8 hours later. I remember getting out of the car in this very isolated, scary place. Just something about how the place felt was all wrong. I knew something wasn't right. I followed my mom inside and met the man who unknown to me would forever scar me.
Upon meeting "Brother Mac" I knew this was NOT the place for me. Bill McNamara was very pushy. He ordered me into the bathroom to change out of my jeans and shirt. He ordered me to put on a very old-fashioned skirt and blouse. Two girls stood guard in front of the door. My mom slipped out of it and left me. She drove away and left me in this room full of strangers. The two girls grabbed my arms and started hauling me to the dorm. I was terrified. I could not figure out what was going on.
Once inside the "dorm" I had to sit down and start reading a Bible immediately. They refused to give me any of the medication that I came in with. I was not allowed to call my family, talk to the other girls, or even look at the other girls. I'll never forget what my first lunch there was. We had catfish and some other sides. I was required to eat EVERYTHING that they brought me. I have always hated catfish. It was hard to get it down, but they said that if I didn't I would be in trouble. I felt so alone. I was scared. I didn't know what was going on around me. That night before bed I asked again if I could take my medicine. I was on a high dose of Syriquil and Lexapro. They said Jesus would be all I needed and that I was not allowed my medicine. Why I was on those medications was because of depression and anxiety. That night was a bad night full of nightmares. Fear was all I could feel. I couldn't understand why I couldn't talk to my mom or my grandma.
Friday finally came. We were allowed to write a page and a half letter to our family. I can't remember what my letter said, but I remember the tears falling. I cried and cried as I wrote that letter to my mom. I do remember saying that I missed her. All I could think about since I had gotten there was her coming back. When would she come back? When could I call her? What was going to happen to me? How long was I required to be there?
After six days exactly of being locked up in that dorm, I finally got to go out. Once again I had two girls on either side of me holding my arms in a locked position. They hurried me to a van and put me in it. I found out that they were moving me from Pace, Florida, to Missouri. I didn't know much else. That scared me a lot because that meant that I would be out of Florida and half of the country away from anyone that I knew and anyone that cared.
Those were my first 6 days in what I refer to as hell.
No comments:
Post a Comment