My mother had reached her wit's end. She had exhausted every tool known to her and three counselors. It was the summer of 1999 and I was 16 years old. I remember the hatred I had for my mother when she told me I would be spending the summer at my grandparent's farm. I said, "I'm not going." This resulted in a suitcase of my clothes on the front porch. I was told to get in the car, or get out. I remember her exact words, "I love you too much to watch...