I'm not even sure where to begin with my experience at Banyan Treatment Center. I ended up there as a last resort, after navigating a series of hoops for a complex situation that brought me from Virginia to Florida. This all stemmed from a failed drug test for cannabis, something I hadn't used in over a year, but was suddenly called in for testing and failed. Despite being sober for over a year and passing multiple tests before this, I found myself at AAC in Riverview, FL. I was kicked out for a minor infraction (ordering a smoothie via Uber), leaving me with no choice but to go through the motions again, including paperwork for a "completed" program that led me to Banyan Boca.
I had already been through so much, and when I arrived at Banyan, I was hoping for a trauma-informed, women's recovery-focused environment, as they promised over the phone. But instead, I was placed in a shared room with someone who, despite identifying as female, presented in a way that was physically and behaviorally masculine. This situation could have been triggering for a trauma survivor, making it impossible for them to feel safe, rest, or engage in treatment meaningfully. Personally, I tried to brush it off, but to this day, I still question whether I truly consented or if I just went along with it.
This isn't about gender identity--it's about respecting personal boundaries and consent. I was never consulted about my rooming arrangement, nor offered any alternatives when I voiced my discomfort. Instead of being met with understanding, I was dismissed. I thought it was worth noting because, for me, I'm a very tolerant person and ultimately don't mind, but even years later, I believe there should be more openness in discussing how to accommodate everyone without fostering hate speech or antagonism, while still honoring their individual needs during treatment. It's crucial to inform and respect everyone, which can be challenging given diverse backgrounds, religious preferences, and histories. After spending so much time letting others tell you what is or isn't okay, even if you don't agree, it's important to recognize that people seeking help often don't identify their triggers until years later.
I witnessed a woman in crisis who had clearly been using drugs from the festival scene. She was having a panic attack after someone touched her, and instead of offering support, the staff seemed more interested in rushing her out than actually offering any empathy or healing. After a brief and ineffective intervention, she was brusquely placed in a straitjacket and taken away by ambulance, which was honestly heartbreaking to witness. It felt like the whole place was more about managing problems than truly caring for the patients. But it wasn't just the lack of support for individual trauma that was an issue. The treatment facility itself felt chaotic & unsafe, filled with people in severe crises, some dealing with fentanyl overdoses or untreated political conditions, I kid you not. It felt like a holding pen for people in various stages of crisis, some too severe to discuss. You might make it to the 2nd floor, if cooperative.
I will say, there are some truly wonderful therapists and social workers at Banyan who clearly care about their patients. Unfortunately, you don't get to see them nearly enough. They are so overburdened, it's difficult to get the level of support or attention that's needed to truly heal. It's clear that they're stretched thin, trying to manage a huge caseload. I truly appreciated the man who came to visit us to teach yoga, who had just returned to modern society from a cloister hidden from the world. He was one of my favorite people there, as well as the Native American woman who chanted to us from a turtle carapace about sunrise, sunset. Also, the off campus visit to a petting zoo, which lasted less than an hour: recovery is not linear.
This experience left me frustrated, not just by the lack of proper care but also by the systemic issues that forced me into this facility in the first place. I also questioned the group facilitators, many of whom seemed more focused on their own past struggles than offering meaningful guidance. The facility was filled with young people, most of whom had recovered from fentanyl overdoses, and there were others struggling on transition medications. I was one of the older patients, with one lady in her 50s who claimed to be a political prisoner. It felt like basic human dignity and respect for the trauma survivors they claimed to support were lacking.
This review isn't about hate--it's about the importance of consent and truly understanding the needs of trauma survivors. I felt trapped at Banyan, and I couldn't wait to leave. read more
