I was a client at Angelus house (the adult program). I had been in many residential programs…read morepreviously and I did not get better. I was still struggling. I came to Angelus house and I have to say I was unhappy. I hated the program director and I thought he was mean. Well, that all changed and so did I. I got better. Better than I ever had been. I worked hard and it was uncomfortable. I was taught to get comfortable with being uncomfortable. I was taught to see the red flags before I take a nosedive. I was taught how to manage my illness and keep my head high. The program director is now the person I look up to most. He has kept me sane, productive and growing for years now. I still see him now and again as my outpatient therapist and I owe all my success to him. He saw what I could be when I couldn't see it myself. Angelus house built me up and kept me climbing so that I could get to where I am now. I am stable, and have been for years now. I am happy, content, productive, and all my relationships are healthy ones. I can set boundaries and take care of myself. I would not have been able to do any of this without the guidance and, sometimes tough, love from all the staff at angelus house, especially Dave. Of course, no one likes to be in treatment but, it is the best thing for those of us who struggle with mental illness. We can manage and get better. We just have to have the right people to guide us and the hard work and perseverance to get there. I found that at Angelus house.

I was at the Beauvais House for my freshman year of high school. It is not all negative, I promise…read more Most of it is though. It was considerably one of the worst years of my life.The schooling quality is very far from on par with what your child would learn at their regular school. I, in fact, had to teach myself the entire Algebra 1 curriculum two weeks before the NY Regents. My biology class barely covered what I needed to know for the regents, even skipping over the entirety of the reproductive unit which appeared multiple times on the state test. Some classes, such as English and Social Studies were the most phenomena and interesting. Others, such as gym, which was taught by a school psychiatrist and was literally playing Just Dance every Thursday, and Study Hall, taught by a man who consistently wore shirts that exposed his always hard nipples. This class in particular was a pain in the neck. I was given an 84 because I didn't do career work in that class and didn't "utilize the support given" nor did I "advocate enough for myself. I was usually very emotionally regulated and didn't need as much support as other kids and I didn't have anything I needed to advocate for. The things I did advocate for were unavailable to me. I was also still a freshman. I would not be going to college for probably 4 years and I was stuck in residential and unable to get a job. His class single handle brought down my A average for such trivialities. One teacher in specific, the very old math teacher who was an ex-military man, had worked in an all boys Catholic school before Wellspring, called for support for himself more than the kids in his class did for themselves, called support for kids who said they didn't need it, had the temper of a 3 year old, and the teaching skills of a janitor, was a giant nuisance. Before my arrival, my friend who was on Constant Observation, had to have an adult in the bathroom with her. Instead of calling over a female staff to go with her, he left his class without supervision and did it himself. He also had a major crash out while I was out sick. He was yelling, crumpled a girls piece of work, claimed she was, quote, "off the rails", all because she had dared to speak up on the fact that she did not know how to do an equation. The girl and him had a very volatile relationship, which was comical, considering the age gap and the fact that he acted a decade younger than she was. After this incident, the two students that were there that day were transferred into another class. I, the only student remaining and the only one not there that day, was not. I returned under the impression that we were doing one on one to catch me up-- which was not like I needed it. This man was at least 6 feet four inches and from what I had experienced in class, extremely easily upset. I was, at minimum, terrified. When it was revealed by my ex-classmates that I was now alone, I immediately begged to be placed into another class. Thankfully my request was granted. He was continually frustrating, unable to teach, provoked by a literal smoothie, uncomfortable with the discussion of gay people and openly distressed with my friends shirt, which dared expose the smallest hint of cleavage. She was 12. I myself, on my birthday, was dress coded for showing my belly button. On the other hand, it was perfectly acceptable for others and myself to show up everyday wearing a Comfy, which was at its heart, a blanket you wore as a sweatshirt. The nursing there is a joke. They refused to send you home without a fever, consistent and rapid projectile vomiting, and diarrhea. The first time I was sick, I was informed that I probably would not have been sent home, but I had a fever of 100.4 which gave me the go ahead. The second time I had persistent fatigue and nauseous, coughing, sore throat, headache and stuffy nose. I was not sent home nor put on bed rest. Bed rest is essentially where you are put inside your room and you cannot leave or do anything for the entire day. It almost feels akin to solitary confinement. The person who I spent the most time with me, ending up contacting COVID 19 with the same symptoms. I requested testing and was refused it. This was in the time Covid wasn't big enough to constitute masks and tests, but big enough to quarantine someone for five days. They also did not allow me to have my psoriasis medication with me in my room. For those who have this disease, you know it's really an as needed thing and application can be erratic. Personally, the times I get very itchy and need these relievents were at night. Contrary to what they may say, they do not have an overnight nurse. So, at the hours of 2-5 am I was left unbearably itchy, my only option to put three pairs of socks on my hands. There was no space to be alone and every action you make will be monitored. The food options are very limited and there was no salad bar like advertised. If you want to know more, do not be afraid to reach out and DM me.