Dear
Parents,
I am a so called "troubled child". When you are given that label, you are stripped of being a kid anymore.
I cannot communicate my wants and needs with the outside world correctly.
I internalize emotions.
I have a lot of "potential".
No matter how many clothes you buy for me, I still suffer from low self esteem and a lack of self respect and self worth.
Dear Parents,
You took your free time and misplaced concern and threw money at my problems.
I am sent to therapy once a week, I have to go to eating disorder group therapy, and I have a psychiatric evaluation for medication coming up tomorrow.
Dear Parents,
My life is a living hell.
There is not a day goes by that I consider my own death as a way around your new methods of "parenting for the year 2000" my psychologist suggests.
As a way out from you trying to talk to me all the time about what I think and feel, and why I think and feel that way, and how much it really hurts your feelings when I give you attitude (disregard being a normal teenager at this point).
As a way of me being able to stop explaining to friends why I can do things Tuesday evenings and Thursday afternoons. So people can stop wondering why I have to go to the "doctor" so often.
Dear Parents,
When your teenagers have problems, please don't leap to the conclusion that they're something that can be cured with drugs and opening up to strangers.
Please don't conclude that they're obviously led astray by the wrong kinds of kids because they netted a C+ in math.
As only one girl trapped in an inescapable web of psycho-therapy, my point is not to ignore a problem.
Just not to think that everyone else knows how to make them go away.