Walking the moon

Into the Wilderness: Story 1, Catina

I hated my parents.  Not the, OMG-my-mom-is-so-annoying-I can’t-believe-she said-that kind of hatred.  But hatred that kept me from being safe. I hated them in such a way that it was almost like a grudge. I wouldn’t talk to them. I couldn’t even be around them.  All I would think about is how I could sneak around them. When my parents told me they were taking me to a wilderness therapy program, my only goal was to find a way out.

As I slumped in the backseat of the car one rainy day in June 2018, what was running through my head is that I needed to get out of this situation, and fast. I had practice manipulating and sneaking around, so I felt confident in my ways. I knew I could say exactly what would trigger my mom’s self-doubt at being a good enough mother. I knew if I played victim enough, my step-dad would bend to almost anything I wanted. I was plotting how I would stop them. And if I couldn’t get back home before I was dropped off, I knew I would get them to pull me out.

As we landed in Georgia, in my last effort to turn us around and go home, I told them I would try harder.  That I knew I needed to do better.  And it didn’t work. I was dropped off in the middle of the humid, warm Blue Ridge mountains. I determined to fake it till I make it.

But that is not what happened.

Now, looking back I’m thankful. In wilderness, everyone looked right through my act. In fact, my efforts to make it look like I was ok made my therapist want me to stay longer. So, I ended staying for three months. It saved my life, and that was only the beginning.