Author: Chelsea Hart

You are deserving of love. On your good days, on your bad days, you deserve love. You are worthy of love and compassion. You are worthy of hugs when you struggle and high fives when you accomplish.

You deserve happiness. You deserve to be treated with respect. You deserve for someone to fight for you. You deserve kindness. You deserve to be lifted up and encouraged. You deserve to be able to depend on someone other than yourself. You are deserving of love.

You are worthy enough to love yourself. You are worth of getting to know and to be understood. You are worth more than the stars in all of the galaxies. You are deserving of love. You are worth a person’s time. You deserve to feel wanted and needed.

I am sorry for the people in your past that have walked away. I am sorry for the people that have caused you to question love. I am sorry for people who have broken your soul and left the mess for someone else to clean up. I am sorry people have taken advantage of your kind soul. I am sorry you have felt abandoned and feel that everyone will eventually abandon you. But you are deserving of love.

Say those words out loud, “I am deserving of love.” Say it every day if you need to. Say it in the mirror when you wake up. Say it at night before you go to sleep. Say it before you leave the house and when you’re driving down the road. Remind yourself that you are worthy. Surround yourself with people that remind you that you are worthy.

There are people in this world that would give their life for you. There are people in this world that would make sacrifices to provide a safe haven for you. There are people in this world that know exactly what you’re worth because you are deserving of love.

It’s strange how the human mind works. Replaying memories over and over like rewinding a VCR tape until the ribbon wears out. Some memories bring a warm feeling, like the sun is shining directly on me. Other times, though, there isn’t a sun. The memories are cold and fierce. I try to forget, but all around this town are reminders. Every single place, every house, every room are reminders.

Reminders of the first time he took my innocence. The first time I realized not all people are good. The first time I felt like I wasn’t worth anything. The first time I felt at fault for someone else’s actions.

Reminders of the many nights I woke up to him reaching under the blankets and into my pajama bottoms. Reminders of when he’d grab me. Reminders of the way his breath felt against my ear as he’d say, “Shh” so soft I could barely hear it. Reminders of how I'd go into the bathroom for refuge and use all of my strength to keep him from opening the door.

Reminders of how he’d pull his hand out of my pants and jump back when someone would walk into the room. Reminders of how I would verbally express that he was hurting me, but he didn’t stop. Reminders of how I didn’t tell anyone soon enough, and reminders of how a single wall separated their world and mine. Reminders of how when he'd take me home from school and try to pull me across the seat to him. Reminders of how white my knuckles would be from holding on to the door to keep it from happening.

All around this town are reminders of what was taken from me, but also reminders that I made it to where I am now. All around this town are reminders; reminders that play continuously in my head. All around this small town are reminders that I am 3 out of 4 adolescents, that I am 1 in 4 girls, and I am only ONE of 1.8 million people that have been sexually abused. 

“The Times’s analysis calculated that 59,000 to 65,000 people died of overdoses in 2016, with a harder, but likely inaccurate, number of 62,497. In comparison, more than 58,200 US troops died in the Vietnam War between 1955 and 1975, and more than 4,500 have died so far in the Iraq War since 2003 — which adds up to more than 62,700.“

https://www.vox.com/platform/amp/policy-and-politics/2017/7/7/15925488/opioid-epidemic-

9 Truths About Drug Addicts

1. Addicts are human beings. 

I know it’s common belief that addicts are less than that, but I can guarantee they’re more human than you could ever imagine.

2. Addicts know what they’re doing to their bodies.

They do not need to be preached at about what damage they’re causing on their bodies. They know.

3. Addicts can’t just stop.

Expecting them to stop is like expecting a hungry person to not eat a steak meal you put in front of them.

4. Addicts would give you the shirt off their back.

Again, I know it’s common belief that addicts are selfish, but if you were cold they would give you their shirt.

5. Addicts love harder than non-addicts.

They love fiercely because at some point in their life they felt unloved and even though their life may be in shambles they don’t want anyone feeling the way they did at that time in their life.

6. Addicts didn’t “choose” their lifestyle.

Addiction is an illness. So just like a person with cancer didn’t choose to have cancer, an addict didn’t choose to be an addict.

7. Addicts feel worthless, non-addicts don’t need to contribute to making them feel more worthless.

It’s easy for a non-addict to look away instead of be encouraging to an addict. It seems so easy to say negative things about them or to them. Imagine what you could say to them with the same breath but be encouraging instead.

8. Addicts don’t use to “party”.

Addicts most generally use because that’s their coping mechanism. Just like some people decide to eat or sleep to cope.

9. Addicts belong to someone.

An addict is someone’s child, someone’s parent, someone’s sibling, someone’s friend or someone’s spouse.

Addicts have a hard time letting people in. They are embarrassed to let others see them. They think they are undeserving of love. Don’t dismiss them. Don’t belittle them. Love them. Encourage them. Listen to them.

I was so young. I puked all over your dad’s living room floor and ran a fever that came out of nowhere. This was my body's way of rejecting what you just did to me in the bedroom of your dad’s house. 

I physically got sick from you asking me if “that was all I had.” I didn’t even know such a thing was possible, to have something happen to you and then instantly get sick. 

I remember my mom coming to pick me up and my tiny body being carried out to the car so I could go home, to where I was safe. 

The cold air against my hot skin felt so refreshing, but not refreshing enough to keep me from taking a bath when I got home because even at seven, not sure of what actually happened, I knew I felt dirty. I felt used and worthless. 

And that was the night I learned what it meant to lie on purpose. My mom asked me what was wrong, and I told her I just got sick, which wasn’t a complete lie, I did get sick, but I didn’t tell her WHY I got sick.

You took my voice that night, along with many other things. Did you know that most kids don’t even realize there’s a word for being touched inappropriately? I didn’t. I had no idea that I was 'being molested', I just knew that it shouldn’t have been happening. 

Even though I knew it shouldn’t have been happening I didn’t tell a soul. Why? Because you frequently said, “Shh” or my favorite, “Be quiet.” So, I was quiet. 

I had it set in my head that people didn’t talk about things that were wrong. (Which I’ve recently discovered, is why it’s so difficult for me to talk about any aspect of my life to anyone). 

You took my innocence and took away any safety I ever thought I had. You took away my dignity and you took my voice.

I realize I will never get some parts of me back, after five years of being “shh’d” something deep inside of me disintegrated and will never be as it was. I did get my safety back, though. 

And my dignity and self-worth have slowly made a reappearance throughout the years. And I finally have my voice back. I'm finally not ashamed of what you did. 

I’ve allowed you and your actions to have control over me for years and I refuse to allow it anymore. 

I refuse to worry about stepping on peoples’ toes or offending anyone because of something you did. For years, I blamed myself, as do most people who have been sexually abused in some way.

I will admit, there are still days when I get nervous to be alone in a room with the opposite sex. I don’t trust men I don’t know and I always pay attention to my surroundings and I carry mace in my car. 

If only I could’ve had mace when I was seven, I’d probably be normal and well, you? You’d probably be blind. So, to you, who silenced me, here’s a nice friendly F you. 

I can finally say that to you now that I’ve found my voice.

To the person who changed my perspective on life:

I’m sure you were just being the person you are; kind, and truly compassionate. I’m also sure you had no idea how those two things would change my life. I believe people are brought into our lives for a reason and sometimes that reason is to completely change our perspective on life.

There was a time in my life recently when I was almost at my lowest. There were things happening to people I love and it was shredding my heart every chance it got. It took every ounce of energy I had to even get out of bed and function. Not a lot of people know that, but something tells me you knew that even without me saying it. There was such a burden I was carrying, a burden of someone else’s, and carrying it soon turned into suffocating from it.

You should know I’m not the kind of person that openly talks about my life or what I’m dealing with. It’s way too emotional and creates such a vulnerability that is inevitable and that’s what I’m terrified of. Opening my soul to a human being is not something I do with ease. But you being in my life at just the right moment was exactly what I needed.

When I opened up to you and you responded the way you did there was a small spark of hope, a spark that somehow gave me a feeling that I had a reason to push forward. Honestly, I didn’t expect such kindness, not because I doubted you as a person, but because the response I usually received was telling me it would get better. And to me, it wasn’t getting better. So, thank you, for not giving me the typical response, thank you for being kind.

You didn’t dismiss me or how I was feeling. You didn’t make me feel small because I was so broken by something I couldn’t control. You knew something was going on in my life and didn’t ask or push me to talk about it, you patiently waited. The compassion that you have for people is something I strive to have throughout life. Thank you for being patient and having compassion I never expected to get on such a dark matter.

Because of you I am more hopeful daily. I realize there are things in life that will break us and usually those things are preparing us for other trials that may come, whether it be in our own lives or in a loved one’s life. I now know how important it is to be kind and compassionate, to be understanding and patient. And because of you my whole perspective on life has changed and I’m sure you had no idea, you were just being the person you are.

To the person who left me to survive your suicide:

I know you couldn’t have been in the right state of mind when you made the decision to take your life. But I also know that you didn’t consider what losing you would do to everyone.

When you died a part of my soul died with you. There was a part of my soul that was fighting like hell to survive though. I had to survive the news of you dying, I had to survive the visitation and the funeral and I had to survive all of the years after your suicide.

I had to realize and survive the years when I tried to follow in your footsteps and take my life too. I had to survive and realize that it wasn’t an option to quit. I had to survive all of my friends telling stories about their dad and I had to survive the conversations where people asked about you.

I had to survive watching my siblings, grandma, aunts and uncles avoid conversation about you, just so they could survive. I had to survive my graduation and my siblings’ graduation without you there to tell us you were proud.

I had to survive my sister marrying the man of her dreams without you walking her down the aisle and I had to watch my nieces being born without you there to call dibs on holding them first.

It’s weird how survival works. It’s fight or flight. I chose to fight and well, you? You chose flight and all I could do was survive your suicide.