EMPOWER

It is difficult to describe the complicated feelings I have about New Haven RTC. I have fond memories of activities we did, I was generally well-liked by staff, and I built friendships that have lasted into adulthood. Looking back, however, numerous aspects of the program that were normalized at the time I now believe are inappropriate and harmful.

Originally I separated New Haven from the “bad” programs I had heard about. I felt uncomfortable critiquing New Haven because I knew it could always be worse. New Haven staff were also quick to remind us how much worse other kids had it, how spoiled and dramatic we were to complain or question any aspect of the program. This was a tool used to force compliance, as we were threatened to be sent to a “bad” facility if we did not do as we were told. Staff regaled us with horror stories about one facility in particular, and I remember a New Haven peer being transferred there. I now wonder how New Haven could send an adolescent to a facility they knew was so abusive.

The most helpful aspect of New Haven was the family component which greatly improved the relationship between me and my parents. However, I do not believe the family program would have been effective had my parents not been willing to make changes within themselves. My parents attended marriage and individual counseling, which helped decrease familial conflict overall.

The most harmful aspect of New Haven was that it robbed me of any agency or control over my life during a developmental period typically associated with building independence and forming identity. I even lost my bodily autonomy as a simple decision like whether I could leave a room was dictated by staff and could be physically enforced. New Haven used restraint to force compliance. I was placed in a “hold” because I disobeyed orders, not because I was a danger to myself or others.

New Haven stole all my decision-making capabilities, including decisions regarding my own medical and psychiatric care. Prior to my arrival at New Haven, my outpatient therapist recommended that I work with a female therapist, but I was assigned a male. My male therapist shared details of his personal life that were inappropriate to discuss with a client, much less a teenager. I later requested to switch to a female therapist and was denied by the treatment team.

As an adult, I can seek a second opinion if I disagree with a provider’s assessment or treatment recommendations. At New Haven, I had no alternative options. Consequently, I learned to accept what they considered “the issues” to be and go along with whatever “interventions” they imposed so that I could conform to their idea of “better” and go home. After I turned 18, I avoided all forms of therapy for years. When I finally returned to therapy as an adult, the therapist observed that I behaved as if therapy was something done to me rather than a collaborative process.

During my stay at New Haven I was pressured into taking psychiatric medication. Although I had never been on medication before, I was placed on large amounts of antipsychotics and mood stabilizers––causing side effects like hair loss, weight gain, and sluggishness. When I asked to go off the medication, I was accused of being manipulative and defiant. My moods never stabilized at New Haven, and ultimately I just learned to pretend my depression had disappeared. I went off the medication as soon as I got home.

I wish New Haven had been more realistic about how difficult the transition home would be. Although I successfully completed the program at Level 5, I was not prepared for this major transition. At New Haven, I had been isolated from family, teachers, coaches, and peers––all of whom had continued living their lives without me. Once home I struggled to reacclimate and felt socially ostracized by both peers and adults. My depression––which had never been stabilized at New Haven to begin with––grew progressively worse.

Looking back, it makes sense that I struggled. I had been forcibly removed from my community for a prolonged period of time and placed in an environment that in no way replicated real society. However, I had internalized the notion that I should be “healed” by program completion and thus prepared to function in the outside world. I was ashamed to be struggling and felt enormous pressure not to ruin my image as a “successful” alumni. I was also afraid my parents would send me away again if I asked them for help. I managed on my own as best I could until the depression overwhelmed me. I began using drugs to self-medicate. A year and a half after leaving New Haven, I entered rehab and later a long-term residential program.

Knowing what they know now, my parents wish they had done things differently. We both missed out on a significant period of my life and on enjoying the normal teenage milestones and rites of passage. I can empathize with my parents’ desperation at the time—and the appeal of New Haven’s promise to make me “better.” However, recovery is not achieved by moving through an arbitrary level system. Serious mental illness, eating disorders, trauma, dysfunctional family dynamics, etc. do not magically disappear by program completion. They are chronic conditions that need to be managed over a lifetime. There are no simple solutions to complicated issues.

The older I get, the less I believe that New Haven had much impact on who I am as a person today or how I’ve decided to live my life. Adolescence is a time of great change, and I believe I would have grown and matured regardless of whether or not I attended New Haven. I do not believe New Haven is responsible for my successes. Ironically, the parts of me that New Haven tried to hard to reform—my stubbornness, strong will, and so-called defiance—are the parts that enabled me to survive once I got out.

I hope in telling my story that other alumni are able to validate their own experiences and feelings about New Haven and that alumni and their families recognize that it is normal to struggle after leaving. Most of all, I hope alumni know that they are not alone.