I unraveled completely when my parents divorced, but then they decided to remarry, and that only twisted the knife deeper. The anger inside me boiled over, turning into reckless defiance. Acting out became my escape, a way to scream without words. My parents had no choice but to send me to a special rehabilitation school, and to make things worse, I was stuck there with my stepbrother. The shame hit me like a freight train; I didn’t want anyone to know where I’d ended up.

At first, I refused to cooperate, ignoring every counselor’s word like they were background noise. I just wanted to disappear, to be left to my own devices, blinded to the consequences of my rage-fueled actions. But as days blurred into weeks, something inside me began to crack. Slowly, I realized my parents weren’t trying to punish me - they were fighting to save me. I had to own up to what I’d done, take responsibility for the wreckage I’d created.

So I started joining the group activities, those awkward sessions where we were made to spill our stories and confront our demons. At first, it felt like a prison sentence, but eventually, I saw the purpose behind it. Through the rough conversations and the shared struggles, I began to understand why I was here. I started to piece together the path back to myself, to who I was meant to be. Now, I’m not just surviving - I’m fighting to reclaim my life, and you’re invited to dive into this raw journey with me. Don’t wait - step into the chaos and start your own transformation today.