Tammy:

Trigger warning, please be aware there is sexual abuse in the next piece I am sharing:

I ended up going out to Wainwright, and Army base town. I stayed with a younger couple, and The mans younger sister also lived with them, I remember my social Worker bringing me to this home and I was sitting there as the Social Worker introduced us. They had a little white poodle. I was sitting in a chair with my feet out and crossed, and that dumb dog started humping my foot. I didn’t realize what he was doing till his owner said “Ramsey! Stop that!” When she said that I was so embarrassed!! I didn’t know he was being a dirty dog, I wish she would have waited to get me alone to explain to me what that dog did was wrong.

After that happened When my Social Worker got up to leave, and go to her car I panicked and bolted out the door. I ran to her car and she just got to it, so we stood there by her car while I begged her not to leave me here. I was so embarrassed, you remember how modest I am, so this humiliation was just to much for me! How could I possibly bare to meet these strangers eyes after that awful dog did that to my foot!! My social Worker said “Tammy you have no choice you have to stay here there is no were else I can take you.” the only words that rang through my ears was “Tammy, you have no choice.” She was right I didn’t. However, I didn’t realize the impact those words would have on until after I had been there for a while.

The man’s younger sister , who was about 19 approached me and said if you get lonely you can sleep with me. I felt comforted by her and did cuddle with her. I missed my siblings so much. One time I accidentally touched her boobs and pulled back like I burned myself, she laughed and said”it’s ok don’t worry, I don’t mind”. I didn’t even think to beware, as I had never been abused sexually by a female before.. until her.

I wasn’t sexually attracted to girls, so I didn’t even think it was possible, as I never met a lesbian before. Or if I did, I didn’t know it, because I never had a female come on to me. I became very attached to this girl and I went every were with her. When we were at home, we would spend hours in her room listening to music or reading, or laughing together. I didn’t love her but I was growing to trust her. I did love their little baby though.I would play with him and loved when he laughed, that little baby I loved and bonded with. I still miss his baby laugh and smile, when I think of him.

So my relationship with this young woman progressed from sleeping together with clothes on to her sleeping naked. I never slept with no clothes on I felt too vulnerable, but she was very comfortable naked. My only thought was she was so brave and I wish I was more like her. she plucked her eyebrows so I wanted mine plucked, she had pierced ears so I wanted pierced ears, double like her. She wore make up So I wanted to wear make up. My foster mom let me do this, for the first time I was some what happy and began to let my guard down a bit.

I didn’t like that they cut my hair short though, our mother always had waist length hair and all us girls always had long hair. When she cut it I felt cut off from my sisters. She didn’t understand this, but it didn’t matter I cried silently in my room. The girl I was bonding with heard me though and came in to comfort me, and that was our first kiss. I didn’t like it, but I had no choice right, isn’t that what the Social worker said…I don’t like kissing at all, I can’t even stand watching people kiss on TV it is so gross to me. It just escalated from there.

One night my foster parent went out for the evening and there baby was at his grandparents, that left me and my foster sister alone to our own devices, or rather her devices, I was just alone. She was in her room when she called my name and told me to come to her room. Seeing her naked I just thought she was going to bed early. She had that gross little dog with her on the bed. She said “let me show you something, you will like it”. She spread her legs and that little dog dove right in like he been doing it forever, which he probably had been. He started licking her private parts. I was shocked and sickened. I had no idea people would do this to an animal. I now felt bad for that little dog, as I understood like me he had no choice and was a victim. After she was done, she tried to entice me to do the same, and I said I didn’t want to do that with the dog, she said ” OK, next time I will show you something else, come give me a hug.” I did and she gave me a kiss with tongue.. so gross!! Of course I didn’t say that to her though, I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

The next time she gave me oral sex, I just lay there, I wasn’t a participant, I wasn’t even an observer. I was far away some were no one else can come. This female on female sex was very disturbing to me. I didn’t understand it and I didn’t like it, this was not comforting to me. I didn’t understand that although a lower percentage than men woman can be sexual predators as well. No one was safe, except my siblings, I had to get back to them no matter what, but I didn’t even know were they were!

There was no visits or even phone calls. We were truly and what I thought irrevocably separated. When my foster sister said, “next time will be even more fun!” I was galvanized into action. As soon as I was alone I called my social worker frantic and upset, I told her I needed to talk to her right away like today! she came a few days later, and I was still frantic and told her I needed to go today like right now! She asked me “why?” I didn’t tell her why I told her that I could not possibly stay here it was not safe for me and if she made me stay I would run away. I was still very much a minor so running away was not an option. I told her in no uncertain terms I wanted to be placed with my sisters and brother. she told me it was not possible to be placed with my brother as he was in a boys home. I said fine, but demanded to visit him. However, I wanted to be with my sisters! I was adamant, and was ready to run away and try to find them, an impossible task but to my mind it was do able.

You may be asking why didn’t you tell? This is normal for children who are being abused not to tell on their abusers, especially in my case, since every time my mother showed me I was bad for telling, and my social Worker said I had no choice, even the justice system failed me. Even if it was a male abusing me I do not think I would have told. I don’t know how long I could take this abuse, before I either lost my mind or killed my self. Thoughts of suicide were prevalent, and this was an option for me. I was about eleven years old at this time. It seemed like I had already lived a life time, and I suppose I had. I did not feel like a child, in the sense, I knew to much. However, I felt powerless, like a child. I really don’t know if all children feel powerless, I just know I did.

Tammy:

I remember the day that the social services had come to take us away, due to the physical abuse Tyra and us children were enduring. I had no idea, that a teacher had found out and reported it to child protection services, or child welfare as we called it. Since I was in a different school, I was already at home when the Child protective services and the police came to collect me, and get the younger ones things. Mom didn’t even blink an eye, all she said was” I will just get them back you know..”

The Social worker said nothing to my mom and I asked the Social Worker what was going on? She didn’t say anything until I took her upstairs to collect our things, what a joke that was, we didn’t have anything much to collect. I had one pair of pants and a extra shirt. No underclothes and couple pairs of mismatched socks. The Social Worker told me that they had been called due to abuse and neglect by our mother, by a concerned individual. The Social Worker also explained the youngest children had been apprehended, due to signs of sever physical abuse. She then asked me if this was true, that we were being physically abused. I simply said to her, “which day would you like to know about, she just looked incredibly sad.

She asked me to take me to the children’s rooms to collect there stuff. I took her to the bathroom to collect Tyra’s pair of pants that were hanging up to dry. They were still damp, the Social Worker said these are still damp we can leave them, were are the rest of her clothes. I said your looking at them. We ended up leaving with nothing but me, in the back seat of the Social Workers car. There was no belongings to collect other than us children. I was wearing what I already owned, and the other stuff was just raggedy garbage. I remember once in school the school nurse bringing me a out fit to wear. If it wasn’t for that kindness, I don’t know what I would wear. I would wash my outfit in the tub every second day, to try to be clean.

We had come and gone from mom’s care so much it is very difficult to remember each instance, but it was a lot. So we are just talking about the most clear instances that we can remember. As time goes on if we recall other instances we will tell of them but for now, we just speaking about the most clear instances we remember. So once again, we were shuttled of to receiving homes, I was separated from the three youngest. This constant separation was causing serious attachment issues, with all of us.

Attachment and Bonding:

Attachment between humans is a complex process. How attachments develop and function is not yet completely understood. However it is essential that those who participate in making major decisions about the lives of children and families have a basic understanding of attachment theory. Attachment and separation are the heart of Child welfare work.” (Vera I. Fahlberg M.D 1991)

Strong Attachment or bonds, help children develop strong social, emotional and metal skills. having a strong attachment to parents and siblings is vital especially in the early years. It helps them built trust and self reliance, which in turn makes them less likely to be a victim, and to have healthy interpersonal skills. “These earliest relationships influence both physical and intellectual development as well as forming the foundation for psychological development…Many children who enter foster care are in jeopardy of losing some or all of these strengths.” (Klaus, 1976)

Home is a place called no were:

So now we were separated again, since the youngest three were together Tyra will have to tell you about that experience, for me I went to a receiving home way in the boonies . Was only there for a couple of days before they sent me back to the city, were I resided with a police officer and his wife and two young boys. I know you might be thinking, what I am thinking a frigging cop?! Some one with ultimate authority over people? This was not going to be good and it wasn’t. However, it was not the Male that caused me issues, but the mother and her two boys.I really do not think they thought through what it actually meant to take an abused child into their home, I mean it wasn’t like we are peaches and cream on a Sunday afternoon! We have issues!

Those two boys were so spoiled in my estimation, I mean it was already awkward being in their home, but to be made to feel unwelcome by those two was even worse, and the mother never stepped in to correct them. They continually and constantly said to me “That is our mom! This is our house, that is our dad, this is our food!” I tried my best to avoid those two brats, and yes they were brats, thanks to their mothers absent parenting. She was more interested in her “church” duties than to be looking out for a lowly foster kid. Guess the pay didn’t warrant decency and respect for a foster kid.

I didn’t like going to church with them and eventually started asking them if I could please just stay home. They would not let me as they had to parade me around to their congregation introducing me not by my name but as our “foster child.” Are you F’ing kidding me?! Sorry, I just got a little heated remembering this, I apologize for the profanity. I hated the fact to them I was a good deed that others should praise them for. I am a human being, that has been brutally traumatized by bad people, not a check mark on your to do list. I really don’t think God is looking down and says no yup those foster parents are definitely getting into heaven, for taking in that sad, hurt child. Don’t get me wrong, I am sure there are foster parents that take in children like me, with pure and honourable intentions, they were just so far and few between.

I loved staying in my room and dancing to tapes, especially Pat Benatare, she was my favorite artist of the time. I enjoyed all her songs. I always wanted to be a dancer, and sometimes I would make my self so sore I could hardly walk trying ballet poses. “Fame” was my all time favorite movie. I did have a dream…I dreamed of being a Dancer.

It wasn’t to be long before I rebelled against these people. I mean who did they think they were? Oh ya they thought they were better than every one else. I can’t stand that kind of attitude. It all came to a head when the foster mom slapped me across the face multiple times, because she thought I pushed one of her kids. I didn’t but that is what he told her; little liar. Those boys just wanted me gone, I hope the next foster child was treated better. I just quietly said, “I would not hurt your kids, lady, but you sure don’t seem to have a problem hurting me!” I ran away the next day, and was picked up by the police that night, guess who picked me up, your right the foster dad. I think he understood what was happening even if I didn’t say a word to him about what happened. I had to sit in the police station all night on that hard bench, waiting for my Social worker to find a place to put me. They were running out of options, and I was running out of Hope.

Because the abuse in that facility was so rampant, it is no wonder that both the girls and the boys were being sexually abused. However, because that was so normal for us, the ones being abused never spoke up. I did do some investigating an there is a group of Boys that were sexually abused in that facility who are having the courage to speak up.

4 more men come forward; Alberta priest faces additional sex assault charges

• Alberta priest charged in connection with alleged historic sexual assaults

Gordon William Dominey, 63, is now facing a total of 18 sexual assault charges and nine gross indecency charges.

READ MORE: Alberta priest charged in connection with alleged historic sexual assaults

On Feb. 6, the Edmonton Police Service announced it was laying five charges of sexual assault and five charges of gross indecency against Dominey. The charges stem from five alleged incidents at the Edmonton Youth Development Centre in the 1980s. The complainants were all youth at the incarceration facility at the time of the alleged incidents.

It is so heartbreaking to me how many youth that have been victimized, continued to be victimized by those professing to be extending the hand of help, safety, refuge. It is deplorable to me that any one professing to be a humanitarian or person of spiritual intent uses that to get close to victims, in order to cause them even more harm.

It has taken me two decades to share my experience, so I understand why it has taken them two decades too.

An incident I recall is one that haunts me to this day. So much is vague memories or foggy. However, some things are hard to forget, no matter how much I wish I could. I was so drugged up, all I remember is being naked and men coming in to solitaire and shutting the door. I remember one man getting down on the mat with me, while another man stood up against a wall and watched, as the other man wrestled with me, as I tried to get away. I was so tired of fighting, I am not even sure how long I had been struggling for. I blacked out most of the incident, and I’m sure there are many instances I have blocked out. Although they do come out if I drink or use drugs, which in another segment I will talk about the drug and alcohol abuse. I do recall one female worker being present, however, she removed herself from the solitary confinement space. I remember her looking at me as she was leaving the room. What I remember most about that event is the look of contempt on those two men’s faces. There was no compassion or empathy what so ever.

One day my worker called me to the office and asked me if I was addicted to drugs or alcohol. remember I was 12 when they incarcerated me and I was now about 15 and a half. I was eleven going on 12 when I was put in the detention center, so all in all I had been incarcerated for around four years. She wasn’t seriously asking me if I was an addict was she? The only drugs I took during that time was the drugs they gave me, I had not even been outside the facility in all those years! How was I going to get drugs? No one ever came to see me! What a odious woman!

Because I had been around teens who were into illicit drugs I had some working knowledge what they were about, even though I have never seen it done or even what they looked like. I remember asking why she would ask me this, and she stated that she wanted to see if ADAAC would be helpful for me. I was dumbfounded..seriously? These people were more crazy than me! I saw a chance to actually get out of the facility, however, I did not realize that after being locked up for so many years it was not like when I was a child living on Whyte Ave with my siblings. I thought I would be accompanied by a staff member to integrate me back into society. That was not the case, she gave me a map and bus fare for the bus, and sent me out of the building by my self!

What the hell was wrong with these people!! I stood out side that building for a few minutes and just looked at it. It looked so very large to me. This was the first time I had been outside the facility with out a staff member, I felt so alone, panicked, anxious and very afraid. I did find the ADDAC office, however, I never went in. Instead I was going to take a trip to Whyte ave and go to my old home, and just look at it. I never even got that far, instead I ran into a girl I knew from lock up. I told her I was running away from YDC because they didn’t want me there any more, I was to much for them to handle. That is what I told myself. They created a monster and then just let her out of the cage, what the hell is wrong with those people? However, I was afraid, this was a big world and I was still a small child in my mind.

My emotional development was stunted to a point were I was like a two year old. Tina.C. took me under her wing. It became official I was now a fugitive, and after 24 hours a Canada wide warrant was issued for my arrest. I became one of Canada’s most wanted at the age of 15, and the biggest crime I ever committed was stealing a candy bar when I was ten….All because I ran away from a correctional facility. Back then under the Government system I was ruled by, you run away from any correctional facility, no matter if you committed a crime or not, you have committed a crime by going awol. This means even though I had never been sentenced with a crime, I was deemed a criminal, because I resided in a correctional institution.

I only knew I was wanted by the authorities because I saw my face plastered on a poster in the wainwright police detachment. You could imagine my shock, that they wanted me arrested! I got my but out of the detachment on the double! I will share about that in a different piece as that was further down the road. For now, with Tina I was blissfully unaware I had A warrant out for my arrest. I thought my biggest worry was child welfare, boy was I in for a reality check.

In over a century of youth justice legislation in Canada, there have been three youth justice statutes: the Juvenile Delinquents Act (1908–1984), the Young Offenders Act (YOA) (1984-2003), and the Youth Criminal Justice Act (YCJA) (2003-present). A set of amendments to the YCJA was adopted by Parliament in 2012.

I met the first YOYO or Young Offender to be incarcerated, it was a 12 year old girl who was caught in a stolen car. I do not recall if she stole it or someone else did, and she just went for the ride. I think she was just along for the ride as she looked like she was 12, very young looking. However, looks can be deceiving so maybe she did hot wire it. I met her before I was transferred to the open unit. If she by chance reads this, “Tammy, me, says hello, and hopes you had an amazing wonderful life.” I was transferred to the open unit very shortly after that.

I would also like to send a thank you to Lauren, who came into my room on the open unit and prayed with me as I gave my will and life over to the care of Jesus. I felt an immense peace come over me. I didn’t understand a high power, nor did I know a higher power. However, I do believe my Higher Power kept me as safe as he could in the coming years, when there was so many times I should have died by another’s hands, or my own.

Alice in Wonderland Quotes “It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.” …

Tammy : sharing my experience in the open unit of a institution for youth, under the Juvenile Delinquent System.

I“But it’s no use now,” thought poor Alice, “to pretend to be two people! Why, there’s hardly enough of me left to make one respectable person!” —Chapter 1, Down the Rabbit-Hole

When I was finally transferred to the open unit things got really bizarre! For the first couple of months I was heavily supervised and not allowed to go out side with out a worker with me. so it was still kinda like lock down, just more girls. I think they could hold up to 24 girls on that unit, and we shared rooms. I had a roommate, and I thought she was a, well we didn’t really get along, but I tolerated her.

It is odd to me to be on all this medication, because I do not really recall meeting with a psychiatrist while I was in lock up. However, I was so drugged up, sometimes it was hard to remember anything at all. Being in the open unit , did give me more freedom, I was able to go to the school rooms on the main floor, with out a staff member accompanying me. during class I would either write in my journal, which was pretty much all I ever did, or I would sleep due to the drugs conking me out. The Teachers never bothered me. As long as I was quiet they left me alone. Sometimes I would attempt to do the work, but my mind was so heavily drugged it was really hard to comprehend what I was supposed to do with all the X’s and Y’s. I preferred to just sit quietly and write, or sleep.

I also, started going to appointments on the out side to see a psychiatrist named Dr. Maurice Blackman. I remember going into his office and they had a large observation room, and the kids in that room were absolutely bonkers. I recognized one of my old classmates from HillCrest, and when I talked to her she was just crazy, I was shocked! What happened to her, she used to be so calm and fun. Now she was bonkers. My Dr. Blackman started me on a new regime of drugs, and things went to hell in a hand basket. I would have to go to his office twice a week to get a needle in my hip, have no idea what it was, on top of the daily doses of pills I was on.

I started to hear people talk to me that were not there, and see shadows and things that were not people. Scared the heck out of me. I also, started to act out aggressively! I was not happy in this open unit surrounded by all these people! I never picked on the smaller kids, I always picked fights with the biggest girls and the biggest boys as being in open unit it was more co ed. No one ever met my challenges they always backed down.It was the drugs, that was not my nature at all. My case worker would discuss me with other staff and some times the girls would over hear her and report back to me.

I was thrown in to solitary almost weekly, stripped naked and put in a cell with nothing in it but a flat mattress. I spent a lot of time in solitaire, at the time I was locked up there was no set limit in how long you could be kept in solitary, you could be kept in there indefinitely if they wanted.The worst part about going into solitary was I resisted vehemently, and I was really strong, like crazy strong, I think the drugs had a lot to do with it. Typically three to four big burly men from the boy’s unit would come help the female staff put me into solitary. It was no easy feat, if they sat on me I just bucked them off, if they grabbed me I would swing them into a wall. For such a little girl I was scarily strong, and had no censorship what so ever, the drugs took away all inhibitions, I had absolutely zero fear and zero remorse. This was nothing like I was before I came here, my sister can attest to that. I think if my sister Tyra was able to visit me, she would not recognize the person looking back. Not because of how I looked but because of how I acted. I was no longer me

Dr. Maurice Blackman:

Dr. Blackman has been practicing for over 40 years.
CPSA Physician Details
Dr. Blackman was trained in Dublin Ireland at Trinity College and came to Canada after postgraduate training in Psychiatry in 1973. Initially he was employed as a Consultant Psychiatrist involved in youth and family care. Dr. Blackman then moved to the University of Alberta where he undertook the teaching of medical students and psychiatric residents, reaching the advancement to Clinical Professor of the University of Alberta. He also continued to consult with Alberta Health Services and developed a number of programs for severely dysfunctional youth and families.

KMedicine Hat News (Newspaper) – April 6, 1993, Medicine Hat, Alberta WestManagers gone EDMONTON (CP) — Two senior managers are no longer working at an Edmonton psychiatric facility for disturbed adolescents that was investigated last year for its treatment techniques. Both Dr. Maurice Blackman, the child psychiatrist who served as program director at CASA House, and nurse-manager Karen Pentelchuk have left the program, confirmed CASA president Margaret Shone. Shone also confirmed a consulting psychologist at the centre has been suspended for a week. Blackman resigned at the beginning of February for health reasons, Shone said, and Pentelchuk’s position was axed in a management reorganization

It is unbelievable to me that he practiced on youth for so many years, and even after YDC was shut down, he went to CASA house and continued, his practices there. He then resigned? How many often do we hear of people in positions of authority or power turning in their resignation , when things start getting uncomfortable for them.

The following are quotes from actual patients, and parents of patients of Dr.Blackman:

“THIS THING traumatized me so bad that I STILL have nightmares of the “care” that his GOONS gave to kids WAY back in the 1980’s. I remember telling him that the meds were CAUSING me to hallucinate. His response was “45 days solitary confinement. For talking out of turn and not asking with raised hand.” IT WAS A 1 ON 1 MEETING!!!! I was 10 years old. I TRIED to commit suicide 45 times while in his Care”

“My daughter saw this Dr years ago.. experience was traumatic. Sent her to the children’s mental heath at the Royal Alex after overdosing her on her adhd meds. She was seeing hair growing out of her finger tips. 9 year old on such a cocktail of meds.”

“This man nearly destroyed my 15 year old daughter when he ran CASA house. His method was to used candy to reward “acceptable” behavior or to put my child in a straight jacket and lock her in a padded cell for many, many hours at a time for unacceptable behavior.”

“I am starting a malpractice suit against this evil man. He must be stopped. Was a abused traumatized child but wouldn’t recognize my abuse instead accused me of drug use and threatened me to keep me locked up or incarcerated until I was 16 if I didn’t admit to the drug use. I was 13 and was very anti drug at the time and had never even been around it. While I was there I was lock in solitary confinement for 12 days, was stripped nude of clothing by two abusive nurses. I know their names and addresses. I compare him to Joseph Mangula using children as experiments.”

These are quotes from parents and actual patients he treated years ago. If you would like to read the full quotes, and more quotes I will post the link here:
https://www.ratemds.com/doctor-ratings/79352/Dr-Maurice-Blackman-Edmonton-AB.html?page=2

How this man was able to experiment and practice on trouble youth is beyond my understanding. Those dysfunctional youth they talk about were traumatized, abused children, calling out for help the only way they knew how, and in my opinion just continued to be a victim to those in authority over them.

Somehow I rallied and when I went to see this awful Dr. And I use the term lightly, I yelled at him, I am not going to come see you any more! He just calmly looked at me and said “you have no choice…” I was just a kid, stripped of rights, identity, dignity, and truth. I vowed to myself that enough was enough. Although, I still took my medication, I firmly believe I was a prescription addict, by this time. I acted out so violently and for hours at a time, any time I had an appointment to see this man, that I would be thrown into solitary. I never saw him again and the needless in the hip ceased. A victory for me, although it cost me dearly.

I am going to stop here, and do a continuation. please feel free to carry on reading if you wish, or stop here, but please do come back, there is more to share.

Cascade YDC lock down unit, was on this unit for over two and a half years, almost three. The longest any girl has been on this unit, to my knowledge. Tammy 2019

I was transferred to my new permanent dwelling, A place called “Youth Development Center” in Edmonton Alberta. It was called “YDC” for short and that is probably how I will refer to it in this next segment. There were four units in YDC, the Girls units were called Cascade, which was the girls lock-down unit, will explain what that means in a bit. and what was called an Open-Unit,named Lowpine. The girls were given more freedom after being in the open unit for a while. It was not as secure as the lock down unit. Most Of my time was spent in the Lock down unit. I was still 12 when when I went to the Lock down unit, I turned 13 in YDC , we did not Celebrate birthdays at YDC. you will understand why in a bit

The Lock down unit I was on only had six rooms, and we did not share a room with any one. We were put into our own dorm and that was it. It was very much a lock down, we didn’t even go outside, They just did not have the staff to take us. We did have a big window though so were able to look outside. I didn’t like looking outside, it looked to big to me. I was very rapidly becoming institutionalized, which would affect and effect me for the rest of my life. We would eat our meals in our rooms, we were segregated from the other inmates who were in open units, so we only pretty much had interaction with a very small group of people.

I was put on various medications, which kept me so docile I would actually fall asleep in the middle of talking. My mouth was perpetually dry, and I could never get enough water to drink. I really had no idea why they put me on all theses medications since I was already a timid and withdrawn child, it made absolutely no sense! I know I was on a lot as one time the worker assigned to me freaked out and made the mistake of saying out loud”OMG we forgot to take her off the old medication and have been giving her new ones at the same time! She has been taking them all at the same time!” I asked her how many she told me over the course of the day I was taking 26 different types of medication! That is what the worker assigned to me said to another worker, I overheard her.

My brain felt shut off all the time, like my body was just moving of its own accord, with out any interaction from my brain. It was awful! My thoughts, if I had any, were so slow to come that I didn’t bother talking. Then there were times I would talk with rapid fire, just to get the thoughts out before my head exploded. At least it felt like it was going to explode. I honestly believe that some one was experimenting on me, and this would become even more true when I went to the open unit, and started seeing the psychiatrist associated with YDC. it was this psychiatrist that had been treating me ever since I went to YDC. This medicating with different medication went on for years. From shortly after I arrived till the day I left. They even diagnosed me as schizophrenic at one point, because the medication was giving me auditory and visual hallucinations.

At that time treatment for JD’s was medication. There was no talk therapy, or counselling when I was in lock up. I was just kept isolated in this block called Cascade. I didn’t really mind, I was so medicated and out of it, I really did not want to be around people any way. On the wall they had a board with all the things they observed during the day and you either got a star or an X. Things like Hygiene, interaction with others, attitude, Decorum ecetra. I can’t remember all that was on there but I think there was like eight different things they would evaluate during their shift. Apparently I was having difficulty meeting their standards, because they had to have a special evaluation system for me with 1 being very good and 3 being very bad.

I didn’t like being different from the others. It made me very uncomfortable as, that board was in the hall were all the Cascade inmates could see it. I felt ashamed. Being different was never a good thing, and I do not recall being a troublesome child, I think it was part of the experiment to see how I would react to being singled out. It was not to end up well for any one! The more they experimented and tried to single me out, the more my brain was switching off. I was going into survival mode, and was almost becoming feral. Scary as hell. Is this what they wanted? I do not know, but this is what was happening. I was changing from a quiet, timid girl into a feral child. I did not have any one touch me, hug or any kind of touching at all, it wasn’t allowed. The only time they touched me is when they restrained me and put me into solitaire, I will talk about that in a bit as that happened on the open unit, not the closed unit I was currently on.

Time just became one day meshing into another, if you were to ask me what day it was, I would not have been able to tell you.To this day I have trouble retaining dates, and have to look on my phone constantly to see what day it is, if I even care to know.Time for me is the seasons. Winter it is time to sleep , fall is time to get ready to sleep, spring is time to plan and start waking up, and summer is time to have fun and wake up all the way. That was my time, and how I lived my life. I am also nocturnal, as I spend all my time alone for the most part, and night time is when I come awake. I guess I am like that great Owl, always living in the night… I spent almost three years in Cascade, I would have to count back to remember, but it was a long time indeed.

All that Time I was on a lot of medication, and very drug out. Most of the teens that came to lock up were on the open unit with a matter of a few months, for me I was on the Secure unit for years. I really could not understand why?! I felt that I was being punished because I told on those men that had sexually abused me…what other answer could there be, I must be bad for doing that therefore I was being punished. Maybe I was being punished because I told that man that “If you ever touch my little sisters and brother I will find you and I will kill you!” The look in his eyes was one of pure terror, but I had been abused so badly that rage had to be stuffed down. Maybe that was why people were scared of me? I don’t think so, I wasn’t willfully mean. If I did act out it was simply a mode of survival, not maliciousness.

One saving Grace, all the workers on the closed unit were Women, and the men from the boys unit were never called to Cascade, there was nothing that the female workers could not handle, so I was saved from having to interact with men. The other girls for the most part stayed away from me, even though they were bigger, I think they were afraid of me. I do not know why, I had no intention or desire to hurt them, I just wanted to learn what it was to be a girl from them. I would watch them put on their make up and do their hair. I observed how they dressed, these were things I never learned from my mom, I learned from girls who were junkies and prostitutes.

There was a radio built into the wall, one Chanel as it went through the whole institution to all the units. I had that music on constantly when I was up, thankfully the other girls didn’t seem to mind, at least they never said anything to me. If I was in the common room the radio was on and TV was off, that was just the way it was. Because I had been on that unit for so long, maybe they thought I was the boss. Or maybe they were just scared of the ticking time bomb I was… I don’t know. I really felt nothing either way after a while, I was totally numbed out. That is not a safe thing to do to a child that has been traumatized so mercilessly. I mean really make it so they have no empathy, no worry no conscience? They really must have been experimenting on me! I wanted to get out, and asked my worker how long I was going to be there in that institution, she looked at me and just said bluntly till you are 21 years old. I was about 14 years old when I asked her, and another year and a half was to go by. We can legally keep you till you are 21 years old. I was floored, I was going to be institutionalized for ten years?! What did I do! Would I even survive it, and would it matter? My mom had cut off all contact with me, and would not allow my siblings to see me. By the time Tyra was old enough to come see me I may be a vegetable from all the drugs or dead by suicide.

You may be still wondering why they didn’t celebrate birthdays in the locked unit. We didn’t even have calendars in the locked unit. The days just passed into one day into another, the only reason I know how long I was there is because it is documented, and I seen the dates. I think they thought it best if we didn’t consciously recognize the passage of time, maybe it made us more manageable I do not know. It was a strange time, and a strange place.

I had a friend in YDC lock up her name was Sandra. She was 12 years old, and was a very odd child, but then I guess I was too. However, she would self mutilate, and that bothered me, as I did not self mutilate. She got mad at me once, because she told me she was going to swallow tacks. How she got the tacks I don’t know as we were not allowed stuff like that. I told her no, and tried to convince her not to do it. However, she insisted that she was going to do it! I was frantic, she would not let me take them away from her, so I told my worker and the staff restrained her and took all the tacks and anything else that could be dangerous to her from her room. she asked me”why did you tell on me”, she was so mad at me. “I told her because you are my only friend and I love you”. she forgave me after that I loved that sad little girl so much, I took her under my wing, at least she wasn’t scared of me, and accepted me for who I was.

Sometimes the open units would go on field trips and leave the institution. I liked those times, because our unit would go down to the swimming pool and have some fun. One time when Sandra and I along with the other girls were in the pool. The boys from the lock up units were allowed in the pool with us and sometimes the boys and girls would be masturbating each other. I never did that, I didn’t want to. I saw Sandra face down jerking in the water. She had epilepsy. At first I thought she was playing a game, then it dawned on me what was happening! To my horror! I quickly swam to her and turned her over yelling “STAFF! STAFF! that what we called the workers. I saved my friends life not once, but twice, I miss her so much. the staff quickly did something to her, and she was taken to the hospital, she was having a Grand Mal Seizure. She was taken to a different facility and boy did she fight, she wanted us to run away together, of course I would have but I wouldn’t even have made it out the door. The only time I was not in arms length of a staff member was when I was sleeping. I never saw her again, I hope she had a good and happy life..

The next piece will be a sharing of when I went to the girls open unit: Lopine

Tyra:

Social services must have found out about Harvey and we were on the move yet again. This time we moved to a small town called Warspite. The next town was Smoky Lake, this is the town that we went to school. We lived in this little house on a farm. There was lots of space for us to play or make hiding places. Our forts over the years would get more elaborate out in the bush. We would go where the bush was thick and a small space in the middle to bring the important stuff to. We spent hours cleaning the area when we had time.

Our mother’s addiction was so out of control that we locked up her medication and gave her only what was prescribed. While doing this we actually had a mom. She would actually come and help outside, and be part of the family. Those moments did not last forever, her addiction was too strong. She would manipulate us saying that she did not have her medications that day. When that no longer worked, she would break a glass and slash her knees and the neighbours would take her to the hospital for pain management and stitches. She said that she had fell on the glass, but how does this happen 3 or 4 times when you are an addict, the probability is really small. I also think the neighbor realized that there was a problem, but did not know what the problem was.

This is where I learnt to work. We began with having to do firewood. This was tiresome. We would bring wood out of the bush, stack it after it was chopped. That was ok, but then after all that work was done we had to put it on the trailer to take it to Edmonton to sell. This took hours as we had to make sure that the cords were separated, and stacked. When we sold it we would then again stack the wood for the people that bought it. It was so much work, but I did learn the value of a good days work. It is hard to believe that even today I enjoy stacking wood, it is relaxing.

Then we got our first pig, her name was Arnold. I know it is a male name but it just seemed to fit her. She was our dog. She would walk us to the bus stop, and sit there waiting for us to come home. I loved that pig, she really was special. I remember Tanya trying to ride her and Tanya ended up in the mud puddle. The laughter was loud and I treasured the laughter as there was not much. We spent hours doing chores for the pigs. Building pens, bringing poles out of the bush, pealing the poles then painting them. Wow looking back I wonder how I managed to get school work in. Oh ya it came second to the hard work. The work had to be done first then maybe you would have time for homework. This was so engrained in me even when I went to university I had to have my place clean all the work done before I could study. I find it kinda crazy now thinking about it because I just realized why I couldnt sit there and do my work if my house was dirty.

Gardening was new to me when we were at this new place, but I begun to love it. My goodness we had abundant food for the first time in my life. Ya it was work but I knew I was not going to go hungry again. Who really likes pulling weeds, well I do. I think this come from when Harvey tried to bribe me by saying ” give me a blow job and I will give you the rest of the day off” I just pretended that I did not hear him and went back to pulling weeds. I just could not believe that he had the nerve to start trying this shit with me. I do not know what the difference was between Tammy and I but he focused on Tammy. The only problem was Tammy was not there, so he was trying to groom me for his next victim. I would not have it and let him know it also.

It finally came time to harvest the garden. Boy was I happy. I picked so much and cleaned it for supper, and learnt how to blanch vegetable before freezing. Mom did participate in the harvesting of the vegetables but only some of them. Then she was back to bed. The work load just increased when she would go to bed, as I picked up the pieces of the family life.

Having animals was a blessing and a curse during this time. I had to do the chores outside, which included feeding many pigs, chickens, and milking the nanny goat. She provided us with milk on a daily basis, we did not do without unless I did not milk her. It was important that I milked her for the younger kids so they would have milk for their porridge in the morning. It became a routine to make porridge in the morning before school and feed the kids then make lunches. We did not get everything that all the children had for lunches but at least we had something.

The billy goat was a mean animal and we did not have fences to keep them in. This one day I hear Trevor screaming, I run outside to find that the billy goat was throwing him up in the air with his horns. I ran to get Trevor away from the goat and to protect him from it. I just could only imagine how Trevor’s tummy felt after being flipped so many times. But here it is I was filling the mothering role for my younger siblings.

Then came the day that Harvey really tried to abuse me. He took me in his arms and tried to french kiss me in the kitchen. I slapped him as quick as he had tried to kiss me, and stated “don’t you ever try that again”. I am not sure if it was the look that I gave him when it happened or the surprise of the slap but he did not try this again with me. After that incident I decided to ask mom about my biological dad, what he was like and where he was. This lead to me asking to move to his place and live there where I did not have to worry about being abused by the same man over and over again. It turns out it was one of the worse mistakes that I had ever made.

Moving to Manning was about starting fresh and learning to live with my dad. What really happened is nothing short of the abuse that I already endured in my life. My dad was gone working in the bush running a cat. I was left at home with his wife that was so jealous of me it lead to her physically abusing me. This one day I don’t remember the reason but she was so angry at me about something that she actually pulled me by my hair to my bedroom. I could not believe that I put myself in this situation again. Then the disgusting names that she would call me, the worst names you can think of, it was said to me. I did try and tell my dad but he did not believe me that it had happened, so I found myself all alone. Really alone cause I did not even have my siblings there to comfort me. Then there was the incident where she was drinking and taking prescription medication and proceeded to try and drive 3 hours to Meander River. My goodness I was so scared it was freezing cold outside, snow banks were large on the road side and we hit the ditch. I am not sure how many times we hit the ditch on the way there but when the trucker pulled us out the last time he said ” maybe someone else should drive?'”. All I remember thinking was “who can drive Colleen was 14, I was 13, Joey was 10, and Allen had congenital defect”. So it was decided that Colleen would drive the rest of the way to High Level, and we did arrive there safe but it was one of the scariest times of my life. My step mom was just as bad as my mom with the prescription medications, I was thinking ” it is just better to go back to my moms and deal with her than deal with a crazy person wanting to drive while totally intoxicated” I was not ready to die. I made a attempt to tell someone about the abuse I was enduring at this home. I told my foster parents that had me as a baby, and that I could not do this anymore, I needed to get out. They suggested that I go to social services, but I knew what would happen if I did that. So I tried to leave the easiest way I could.

I told my dad the things that were happening and he did not believe me so he asked grandpa. Grandpa stated that things in the house hold were not good and reinforced that the incidents did happen. When dad came home and confronted my stepmom there was a big fight. It ended with my step mom leaving, moving to Meander River. The time that we were alone together I thought was good there was no drama, no abuse, and we were connecting. I do not remember how it came about that I moved back to my moms, just that I ended back up in Warspite on the farm.

Back on the farm my siblings were happy to have me home. I was happy to be back with them. The work load increased for me but I did not care I just did what I needed to do and move on. This one day I lost my temper telling Trevor to quit touching my butt, it triggered something in mom. She sat me down and begun asking questions for the first time ever. I told her what Harvey was trying and doing to me. She appeared to be upset about the situation. Mom must have talked about it with Harvey and there was tension in the air. Not long after Tammy came for a visit and it was at the right time. The visit must have made mom realize that we could be taken away again because of Harvey and decided to leave him.

Tyra:

During this time of year we all look back at what has happened in our lives and think of areas that we can change or how to let go of hardships that we have gone through. I have had many hardships in life, whether it is from abuse as a child or a messy break up to learning how to contain my emotions during conversations. Most people who know me would say that I wear my emotions on my sleave but I always thought that I was good at hiding, I guess not.

This one year close to Christmas time I was told that I was manipulative. Me manipulative, I had to look the word up to see what it ment and how I needed to change to make it right. Manipulative meaning: exercising unscrupulous control or influence over a person or situation (Oxford dictionary). Now that we have the meaning down lets examine my behaviour that would constitute being manipulative.

During our childhood years we did not have much control over our lives and situations that we were put in. So how would a child in those situations act or even learn to be manipulative. Well I did learn and was good at it. During my teen years I learned how to manipulate the people around me to provide me with the needs that I needed at that time. Did I know what I was doing? No, I did not know what I was doing until someone pointed it out to me.

Learning to live and not be manipulative was difficult for me as it was the only way I knew how to survive in the world. Having to learn to be a productive individual in life and not have that control is difficult as you make yourself vulnerable. Being vulnerable was a not a high point for me as I wanted to have control over all aspects of my life and those that choose to be in it with me.

The only control I seemed to have was to make people do what I wanted them to do. But why would that make me a bad person? It doesn’t make you a bad person just one people did not want to be around for the sake that you may take their free will away from them. I still do not understand that but I guess perception is the name of the game here. I always thought that I was thoughtful and kind to other people for I did not want them to feel the way I did deep down.

Influencing people could be looked as a good thing also, whether they realize it or not. I most definitely did not have any harm in mind if I influenced their decision to participate in an activity or not. I thought that I just was following the lead in many situations as that is what I had learnt as a child. Follow what is going on and do not rock the boat and no one will get hurt.

So being manipulative was a survival technique that I needed to get through the life I was living as a child. As an adult this behaviour was frowned upon and there I was again trying to figure out how to survive in his new world that did not understand me. I had to let go of all that I had learned and relearn new coping skills to get me through. Little to my surprise it lead me down a dark road of depression.

Our mother suffered from depression and I did not want to be anything like her do I ended up being in denial and refused treatment at my own expense. I was so scared of becoming the person that she was that I refused treatment with medication as I may become an addict just like her. I knew I needed help but to what degree I was not sure.

I suffered for years with depression and the black outs, but I was stubborn stating I did not need the help of medication like my mother. Until the day came that I was really having trouble functioning in life I knew them it was time to make a change and a drastic one it was.

Tammy:

I had many years of happiness and fulfillment at the shelter. I felt wonderful working with women and children that I could understand and empathize with. It was my purpose in life to be there to comfort, educate and above all encourage. Encouragement is so important to me, not because we lack courage, but some times we need others to give us the “en” courage.

When I walked out of the crisis shelter for the last time, something happened. It was just to much. I had enough. I was done. I shut down. I slammed my mental door shut, be damed with the world, I was not giving any more pieces of me. What was left I was keeping. I resigned myself to my truth, which was, “you got hurt, you will be hurt, you will always hurt.“ Well, that was not going to happen, I refused, at least I tried to refuse. However sometimes the heart and soul, has other ideas, and your intellectual side is out voted.

I spiralled into a place so dark and empty, it was a terrible place that I never wish to go to again, not even for a short visit. I stopped bathing, and only would wash if I could not stand my self. I refused to leave my home and refused all visitors. Although, I really only had one friend, who really cared about me. She has been my friend for over twenty years. The through thick and thin she has always been there for me when I was ready to let her in. I was a expert at sleeping, I could sleep any were up toward Eighteen hours. The down side was sometimes I wouldn’t be able to sleep for days. I loved sleeping, I lived in my dreams, at least till the nightmares took over.

The consequences of the abuse I suffered and the repetitive placements in foster care, group homes and finally institutionalization is, I have attachment and bonding issues. There is a disorder that describes attachment disorders, reactive attachment disorder, which typically is a result of severe neglect or abuse at a young age. Usually the abuse is from the mother. It is a symptom of complicated post traumatic stress disorder. The complicated just describes some one who has has a long history of trauma, abuse. We’re as PTSD is being diagnosed by some Drs. And Psychiatrists as being a one time event. Irregardless any mental illness and injury, is a difficult and painful process of recovery and healing, the best we can.The symptoms of PTSD may include symptoms that overlap with BPD. Depression runs in our family, our mother was diagnosed with manic depression, and was being treated for that disorder. However as already shared, she was a prescription addict and her illness as going untreated because of her abusing her medications. So falling into This abyss was not difficult, the difficult part was, can I get out of it?

Days, sometimes weeks would go by, unwashed, forgetting to eat, because I did not feel hunger, sleeping for hours, or mindlessly playing games on the computer. Reading book after book. Anything to escape looking at what was happening to me. I felt empty, the one time I did break down, it was so painful, I shut it down with a bang. Another trait I was good at, disassociating from myself, a coping skill I honed and perfected as a child. I was suffering, I was so depressed that It was slowly killing me from the inside out. I wanted absolutely nothing, I was so shut down, I couldn’t even rally up enough empathy for myself to reach out for help. What I was feeling was so overwhelming and painful, I could not afford to allow myself to feel it. So I opted to feel nothing at all. No anger, disappointment, love, fear, nothing, I truly gave up and did not care any more. I was a vessel filled up with pain and could hold no more, sorry, this Woman is “out of order”.

When I look back at that time, and I have to share this lasted for seven years!! I was in this state for seven long years. I will never get that time back, so I look at it and learn what I can from it, and use the experience to relate and empathize with others. Hopefully, I can save them the time I had lost, to untreated mental illness and complicated issues. It is hard to imagine being in that state so long, but I had a supporter of my illness. My partner, he enjoyed my exclusivity and dependance on him. I was his young wife, and he had me all to himself. He would do all the shopping, never disturb me when I was sleeping. Do all the menial chores. Above all else he would chase people away, people like family that were concerned, friends that wanted to know were I was. He was my biggest advocate for my illness. I didn’t think of it that way at the time. Years later looking back, I can see that this was indeed the case.

I am not going to leave you hanging, there is more, and I do want share. You may be wondering why so long? Why suffer in silence for so long. There is varying and complicated reasons why we sometimes suffer in silence. Toxic shame, is a huge motivator to keep silent. Dysfunctional Learned coping methods. Untreated Mental illness, symptoms and behaviours. Addiction, whether using or not, the behaviours we used as addicts can surface with a vengeance. Fear of involuntary commitment. Been through that when I was eighteen. I have a fear of being incarcerated, nice place or no, it is not voluntary. Also, having some one encourage the mental collapse does not help. Those are a few of the reasons, why. Not a comprehensive list by any means, but hopefully it is a start to the question why. The fact remains that if you are suffering in silence, there is a multitude of people, including my self and my that want to be there for you and do not judge you. Please, reach out, and keep reaching out, some one will be there for you. I will cover more about this dark time in an adjacent piece. There is hope.

If you haven’t already please feel free to start at the beginning intro “Two Sisters Perspective” or if you wish to start reading our experiences “The Beginning” Thank you so much for your support. Tammy and Tyra

Kids Help Phone
Chat Services: kidshelpphone.ca
Text Services: Text “CONNECT” to 686868 (also serving adults)

http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html You can find a list of crisis lines available to you, were ever you reside.

https://www.iasp.info/resources/Crisis_Centres/ a international list of resources available for you and me.