I felt the pain of impact as my fist went through the drywall, and it shattered under the pressure of my fist, as I punched the wall hard in anger. I was sick of this place. Why my own family had felt the need to actually send me to a different pack to gain treatment for my anger I did not know. Being away from my own pack was not what I needed right now. And being in this “secure environment” as they called it, was more like being kept in a f*****g prison.
Therapy and anger management were making no difference. There was nothing wrong with me, so there was nothing to treat. So, I do not know what they expected to happen while I was here. Were they expecting some sort of miracle and expecting some sort of angel to emerge from the wreckage that I had apparently become? They would be serio
