Part 2 of How Borderline Personality Disorder Has Impacted My Life

By the time I hit 14 things had disintegrated from barely manageable to a complete disaster.  Because I had embellished some things, the adults who I had come to rely on as "safe people" at school now disbelieved anything I said.  Throughout 8th grade I had been repeatedly harassed by a boy at my school, near the end of the school year it came to a head when he touched me in a sexual manner.  My emotions were so overwhelming and given my past history, no one believed me despite there being witnesses.  After being trapped in a small room and questioned by multiple adults for over 4 hours, I was threatened with arrest for making a false statement but released without any charges filed.  I was still too naive to see that the people I'd considered my protectors had completely turned against me.

A month later I was admitted to a locked psychiatric unit for the first time.

Most of the week or so I was there is a blur.  I know I was there over a weekend so what little therapy was available was even less.  Forced to wear green scrubs and God forbid if a boy and girl say on the same couch.  Since I was the second youngest there, I got to play Mario 64 with the 11 year old girl who was my roommate.  I remember passing out from having blood drawn and getting in trouble for trying to comfort my roommate when she was crying.  They gave me Prozac, which made me fall asleep so quickly and often that I'd fall out of chairs.
The next week at the day treatment program is a little more clear.  I was still very sleepy but managed to stay awake most days.  We'd have therapy groups for half an hour a few times a day, the rest of the time was spent sitting on broken down couches talking amongst ourselves while being watched through a glass window by a psych nurse and social worker.  I was thought to be odd for bringing up how when my mom had been sick a few years back I'd had to keep it secret from everyone and hushed for trying to "bring up the past".  The social worker was known for trying to get you to "lose it" on your last day during group therapy so that you'd have to stay longer.  On my last day she attacked me for not wearing make up (my parent's didn't allow it), for being a brat because my dad had bought me a new bike that week, and for being too much of a child instead of a teenager at age 14.  I was saved from whatever else she planned to say by being called out for the family meeting that marked my exit planning from treatment.