> ## Content Index > Fetch the complete content index at: https://ttiwatch.org/llms.txt > Use this file to discover other available public pages before exploring further. # Vienna's Story - URL: https://ttiwatch.org/viennas-story/ - Published: 2026-07-30T14:38:45.000Z - Updated: 2026-07-30T14:38:45.000Z - Description: I am not successful because of treatment, but in spite of it. I will never forget what happened to me at Innercept–no matter how many times they change their name–but I want to ensure it never happens to anyone else. Treatment should not result in trauma. - Author: Vienna Supon - Tags: Survivor Testimony, Innercept, Idaho The most revealing thing about the brokenness of the mental health system is how terrified people are to seek help. I grew up believing that mental health care was a safety net designed to catch you when you fall. I thought hospitals, therapists, and treatment centers were supposed to be spaces built to support people who were hurting. I trusted the advertisements… until I was held hostage by the same system that promised healing. On August 1st, 2022, at 3:00 in the morning, three strangers forced me into a van, flew me 2,000 miles away from home, and drove me across state lines to Innercept in Hayden, Idaho. Innercept was located in a desolate part of the state twenty minutes from Coeur d’ Alene. Once I arrived, there was nowhere to run, nobody to contact, and no source of help outside of the program walls. We were isolated from the world and constantly reminded that we were there because of “troubled” patterns of behavior. During the seven months I spent there, I endured trauma that resulted in chronic Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder–something I continue to live with to this day. ## Sign up for TTI Watch Subscribe Email sent! Check your inbox to complete your signup. No spam. Unsubscribe anytime. The conditions at the facility made the most basic necessities feel like privileges. When I arrived, there were only three cups for eight kids. I was so dehydrated that I'd drink the brown shower water. The program also relied on a well, and when it ran dry, I’d sit on the floor of the tub shivering for ten or fifteen minutes until the water returned. Privacy was nonexistent too. Cameras, motion detectors, and door alarms were planted everywhere on the premises. Male and female staff members were required to observe us in the bathroom or outside the door. One male staff member forced me to shower with the curtain open in order to ensure my “safety.” He watched me bathe. It was violating. Our rooms were locked during the day as well, so we had to pack into a small living room from 8:00 AM to 9:00 PM. There weren’t enough chairs or couches, so many of us sat on the wooden floor or slept in corners. Food was another form of control. There were locks on the fridges and cabinets so meals were not readily accessible. For the first several months I was there, we were forced to be on a plant-based diet with *zero* sugar. Staff cooked for us, and the food was often inedible. Seconds weren’t allowed and we rarely got snacks. When we were lucky to get an apple or vegetables, people were so hungry that they would eat the entire thing (the core, the seeds, the leaves, and even the stem). If you were still hungry, staff were required to deny us food so that we were not “overfed.” I witnessed staff members get chewed out by managers for giving us extra food. A chef was eventually hired, but food intake was still heavily monitored and portioned out. At the same time, we had to participate in a mandatory exercise called SPARK. It eventually fizzled out, but it was grueling to do when I was dehydrated and underfed. Even occasional outings to community spots resulted in invasive scrutiny. Whenever we came back to campus, I was required to shake out my bra in front of male staff to ensure that there wasn’t any hidden contraband. One specific man would take me behind his vehicle and make me redo my search in front of him. Sometimes I was patted down or forced to remove articles of clothing. After that, if he was still suspicious, I was reported for noncompliance. It was humiliating. Stabilization, or solitary confinement, was used as “crisis intervention” or as a punishment for residents on higher levels of the program. Staff members would lock you downstairs in a basement, strip you of all your belongings, and leave you downstairs. Most times, staff were required to be downstairs with you, but staffing shortages were so bad that we were often alone. There were usually two resident assistants on-site for a program of over 20 people. Some employees never showed up for their shift (one girl quit two hours into her first day). Some would break down crying from stress, or walk out and never come back. On multiple occasions, I woke up to staff members snoring and sleeping next to my bed. Additionally, in Stabilization, residents were not allowed to talk to other peers. People were locked in the bottom of the house and caged inside with no access to the outside world. There were no privileges, no privacy, and no dignity. My longest stay was roughly three weeks. I needed to complete “accountability worksheets” before I could be considered for release, though. The longest instance I knew of was over a month. Psychological manipulation became just as pervasive as the physical restrictions. Residents were blamed for everything, and we were viewed as untrustworthy, dangerous, and very sick. That extended beyond our program and into the community (ex. Hospitals and police believed that we were “troublemakers”). If someone said they wanted to go home, a common response was, “you should have thought of that before you engaged in behaviors that got you here,” or, “you’re here for a reason. It’s because you’re \[insert negative quality here\].” Taking accountability for everything was also heavily emphasized. My own therapist reinforced those messages. She frequently told me that I was emotionless and flat in affect. When a staff member left the knife closet unlocked, I used tools to harm myself. My therapist screamed at me for over an hour about how I was manipulative, dishonest and “dangerously clever.” Those comments still echo in my mind and make it difficult to foster strong therapeutic alliances. Furthermore, mail was censored (if my therapist didn’t like what I wrote in a letter, it would not get sent), electronic-usage was non-existent, and I never got to call my parents. No resident can call anyone for the first month. Phone privileges after that are monitored too. If residents said anything negative about the program, staff would hang up the phone and tell your parents that you were, “having a hard time and manipulating a situation.” You’d then lose your phone privileges. Physical violence was so common that it was numbing. Restraints were used incorrectly. I once saw a man sit on a female resident while another man bent her wrist. Many staff members were not CPI (Crisis Prevention and Intervention) trained or med certified because of the high turnover rate. I was personally tackled into a door by a male individual and incorrectly restrained by several staff members. We were forced to do manual labor outside in the snow and freezing cold. Some people didn’t have jackets or gloves, but we were locked outside and forced to do the work or we’d all be punished. I watched people attempt suicide in front of me. There were times when I had to assist in stopping someone from taking their life. Even the animals weren’t safe from the neglect. They lived in their own fecal matter and they rarely had fresh food and water. Another girl and I filed grievance forms until they got food. Education was sub-par. One of my assignments was to water plants in a greenhouse. My college education was used as a pawn. To the higher-ups, my life was valued by money. I went from being a straight-A student to barely passing when I returned to public school. My time at Innercept was so detrimental to my mental health that I thought death was more desirable than staying there one more day. I attempted suicide and was ultimately pulled from the program. ![](https://storage.ghost.io/c/1f/67/1f67190e-8333-405d-8f00-c053cdf25848/content/images/2026/07/1aab8490-d072-4dbc-a68d-bbb01a6005f3.jpeg) Although I left physically, Innercept never left me. For months after I was home, I woke up screaming from nightmares and flashbacks. I still hold a deep mistrust for the healthcare system as a whole because the industry that advertised safety caused immense pain and suffering. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about my experience there. Today, I am a third year Psychology student at Temple University in Philadelphia. I have volunteered as an advocate against the Troubled Teen Industry for the last three years. I am not successful because of treatment, but in spite of it. I will never forget what happened to me at Innercept–no matter how many times they change their name–but I want to ensure it never happens to anyone else. Treatment should not result in trauma. ## Sign up for TTI Watch Subscribe Email sent! Check your inbox to complete your signup. No spam. Unsubscribe anytime.