My son’s downward spiral at the end of sophomore year included an inciting event that led to a precipitous intervention; his removal from his home. Medical professionals that had known him for years recommended wilderness therapy. The four week journey “into the woods” mushroomed to ten weeks, at the end of which I was indoctrinated into the “business of recovery.” Lesson 1: no one “graduates” from a wilderness program and returns home. The pitch: the only logical way to keep him alive and out of jail is to continue with residential therapeutic support; either therapeutic boarding school or a residential treatment program.
The recommendation is logical. The problem is that these institutions aren’t regulated and therefore aren’t held accountable for their effectiveness. In fact, only 1 of the 12 that I either visited or interviewed in 2012 provided outcome data. There is no government oversight on the treatment end of a patient’s stay. That being said, it isn’t an evidence based treatment protocol and insurance doesn’t provide coverage. The regulations that are imposed center around education (certified teachers and curriculum) and public health issues (food, sanitation, spread of communicable disease). As a result, far too many teens are abused or witness abuse within these programs and come out with new diagnoses – particularly post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) – as a result of their “therapy.”
While my son was in therapeutic boarding school (TBS), I joined a support group comprised of women in a situation similar to mine. Earlier this week, one mom reached out to the group via email. Her note and our responses to it highlighted the fact that despite employing radical early intervention for our teens, many of us still need support even though our kids are now adults. So, I wonder: is the intervention of TBS worth the financial hardship?; is it effective or are we prolonging the inevitable by removing the natural consequences that they would’ve faced if they remained with us?; did we actually preserve our sanity in the interim?
My findings (unscientific) come from a group of fifteen teens; seven daughters; eight sons. All had other mental health issues in addition to their primary diagnoses. Nine of the fifteen attended therapeutic boarding school as opposed to entering residential treatment. Today, of the nine: one is doing extremely “well;” two appear “normalized;” one occasionally moves from “normal” to “problematic.” The remaining five struggle; two are financially cut-off while parents await “bottoming out;” two are in rehab; one has been residing in sober housing. These results are a far cry from a glowing endorsement despite being an industry that rakes in over two billion dollars annually.
Therapeutic boarding school is not the cure for a teen whose primary diagnosis is truly addiction. How can professionals decipher if a teen is using drugs as a means of self-medicating another mental health issue, is abusing drugs – likely a phase that they will eventually outgrow – or actual addiction? I remember being assured that I was “doing the right thing” and “saving my son’s life.” Three years later, despite my best intentions, the intervention failed, and I doubt that it was ever “right.”
I became a victim of the “business of recovery,” depleted of hope and cheated out of time and finances. My child was remanded to the “woods” in 2012 for smoking pot. Today, he is in rehab following a heroin and meth binge. The good news is that he says he wants to get better. The bad news is that although he’s my son and I love him, I have neither the energy or the money to fix the problem. Fool me once…I reached becoming the fool months ago. He needs to help himself. Sadly, this may mean homelessness, in January, in the northeast.
Note: Telos (residential treatment in Orem, UT) provided outcome data and I remain remorseful that I didn’t insist on this placement. The statistic “over $2 billion annually” came from, Adolescence Interrupted, written by Dawn Roberts.