Thanks mom! Thanks dad!
PTSD for life? No way! Awesome!
My living quarters, a fun place we called the "hobbit" because of how generously, luxuriously large it was just like the books by Tolkien! Nothing to do with the stature of hobbits or the whole starvation thing.
The menu:
Breakfast: a small carton of milk and a banana
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Lunch: a piece of cheese and piece of bread
Dinner: a tortilla and a few raw pinto beans.
After a lot of therapy, even more mind altering chemicals/medications, and several half-hearted (mostly on their side) attempts at reconciliation with my parents for sending me to this fucking nightmare for three months:
I'm still a shattered mess.
I guess that's just how life works.
Sometimes you're flush and sometimes you're fucked imprisoned illegally in a foreign country sent there by your duped parents who looked at a glossy brochure and hired some big rednecks to kidnap you at four in the morning from your bed and take you in shackles to the airport.
The world is far more insane than you think it is.
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