My experience as a TTI survivor. Part five. Memories and incidents.

In my last blog I described life in general at the wilderness program. In this blog I intend to describe some specific memories and incidents.

My battle of wills with the so called therapist. The person who took the individual therapy sessions was an obvious fake. I doubt that she’s ever even read a book about therapy and I certainly don’t believe that she had any training or qualifications. She told me that I needed to write a letter taking accountability. I asked her what she believed I should take accountability for. She replied that it was my fault that my parents were close to getting divorced and I should write a letter admitting it. (To be clear,the real reason was because of my dad’s domestic violence to my mom). I told her that I would not write a letter that was untrue. Every session I had with her from then on was her trying to get me to write it and me refusing. I never gave in. I never wrote the letter.

Refused first aid. When I injured my knee they refused to give me first aid and forced me to continue hiking despite being visibly in agony. As a result I still have problems with my knee which may be permanent.

Punched in the face by a grown man. One of the staff had it in for me. One day he started taunting me saying that if I had been better behaved my parents wouldn’t have sent me to wilderness. I told him that it was my dad who sent me and my mom was opposed to it. He then said “Well she must be one shit mom if she sided with you against your dad “. I replied “You don’t know anything about it so don’t speak about my mom like that you asshole. He responded by punching me in the face knocking me out and causing me to lose three front teeth.

The bald eagle becomes my symbol of hope and freedom. I remember seeing a bald eagle in flight and thinking how free it looked. So far above the misery and captivity I,and the others,were trapped in. Then I thought about how, one day, I would be freed from this hellish program and that thought gave me a feeling of hope. Ever since then the bald eagle has been a symbol of hope and freedom for me.

The other kids. I made some great friends among the other kids there and I’ve kept in touch with some of them. I’m not going to go into more detail because I don’t want to end up saying anything that may lead to someone being identified.

My next blog in this series will deal with life after the program and will probably be my last in this series.