I was sent to this facility as a teenager during one of the most vulnerable and confusing times of my life. I am now years sober, but let me be absolutely clear: this place had nothing to do with my recovery. In fact, the trauma I endured here nearly broke me in ways that took years of real, compassionate treatment to even begin to untangle.
I spent over a year inside these walls, and I have since been formally diagnosed with PTSD because of what happened to me there. The memories are not unpleasant. They are haunting. They are the kind of memories that shape the rest of your life whether you want them to or not.
If you are a parent desperately trying to help your child or an adult considering treatment, please read this with the gravity it deserves. This place is not safe. It is not healing. It is not therapeutic. It is traumatizing.
The environment was built on fear, intimidation, and absolute control. The very people entrusted with my wellbeing became the ones responsible for the deepest wounds I still carry.
Here are only a few examples of what I endured:
-I was locked inside a cell-like isolation building they called the "unit" for an entire week after a manic episode that was triggered by the heavy and unnecessary medications they prescribed and forced into me. It was not treatment. It was abandonment. I was a terrified kid left to unravel alone in a cold concrete room with nothing but a thin plastic mattress, a Bible, and a so-called counselor watching me through cameras every hour of the day and night. It felt less like medical supervision and more like being watched in a cage, waiting to see what would break first, my mind or my spirit.
- My privacy was repeatedly violated. Deeply personal experiences I begged to discuss only with my counselors were forced into group settings, ripping away any sense of safety or dignity.
- I witnessed and experienced staff aggression regularly. Their anger was unpredictable and frightening, creating a culture where speaking up felt dangerous.
- I was forced to attend religious services I did not believe in under threat of punishment. My spiritual autonomy was treated as disposable.
- When I reported that another boy was touching me inappropriately, I was not protected. The fear became so overwhelming that I tried to run away just to get away from the place that was supposed to keep me safe. After they caught me and dragged me back, I was punished instead of helped. I was forced to sleep on the floor for a month as a reminder that speaking up only made things worse. The message could not have been more obvious. My safety did not matter and neither did my voice
- Even phone calls to my parents were weaponized. They were intensely monitored, and when I expressed that I felt unsafe, I was punished for it.
There is so much more. Far more than anyone could fit in a single review. In fact, the things I witnessed during my year there were so disturbing and systemic that I often think a documentary exposing these horrors should already be in production.
What happened inside that facility was not a handful of isolated incidents. It was a culture of neglect, coercion, and abuse.
I am alive today. I am sober today. But not because of this place. I am here in spite of it.
If you are considering sending someone you love here, please rethink it. Look elsewhere. Find a place rooted in compassion, ethics, and genuine care. I would not wish what I went through on anyone.