I wasn’t kicked out, but I ended up having to leave home at seventeen due to my parents refusing to seek treatment for me for what I found out later was severe PTSD. I damn near ended up homeless on several occasions because I had no money when I left. I luckily graduated at 17 and had an admissions offer,so I maxed out my federal loans and was still about $1000 short for the year. The first time I damn near ended up on the street was a month after my suicide attempt because I was short $500 for my dorm, and I barely made enough at my part time job to eat. I signed up at a plasma donation clinic and thankfully they didn’t check my birth certificate because I had a “lease” for my dorm so they just assumed I was of age. Even with all that, I still couldn’t come up with all of it, but thankfully someone with good connections at my school helped me out. I spent about six months in and out of psych hospitals on ridiculous doses of medication (as in 2400mg of Neurontin a day ridiculous) and another six months on disability barely leaving the house while I essentially caught up on ten years of rest. I had started sleeping for long stretches of time, and missed an entire day of class after sleeping for 24 hours. I ended up leaving school altogether at that point. Now? Doing pretty well. Now that I’ve actually had a chance to both recover and get on my feet financially, I’m able to work towards my goal of starting my degree over (I had what most schools call “compassionate withdrawal.”) I’m healthy enough to manage work now, so if everything goes okay, I’ll get to move away in August and start over. In fact, today is actually the two year anniversary of the day I tried to commit suicide. Today I’m actually happy that I stayed alive not only long enough to see the world outside home, but to see it through to better times. Sorry for the long post.