Dear Joan Higgins:

The purpose of this letter is to briefly introduce myself, Jane Doe, a former client at Chaps Hope & Healing Day Treatment Program.  This program has provided me with something so valuable and precious, it cannot come close to having a price tag.

I got control over my life.  I enjoy living.  The counselors and staff had been determined to do everything in their power to show me the sandbox when I saw only desert sand and endless pyramids.

It took many months of reliving heinous mistreatment, but I feel confident with who I am. I am no longer isolating.  No longer am I praying to God to allow me to die.  Death was a constant thought in my mind that refused to go away.  In the car, I would pray we would get into a fatal accident.  At school, I would pray there would be a school shooting.  At home, I prayed my mom would hit me so hard my lungs would collapse.  In my bedroom, I prayed to finally cut deep enough and lose my life with my own hands.  In the psychiatrist's office I would pray that I would be that one in a million that would have a lethal side effect from the medication I was being doped up on.  When I would go out for a run, I would pray to be kidnapped and killed.  Whenever I went across train tracks I would wonder if by some miracle a train would plow me down, dragging my breathless body along as it kept going.  I would pray that someone would have a brainsick homicidal urge when I was in the psych unit and they would kill me.  I was done.  I knew I had died; all that was left was proving it.

But with the rapid aid of many counselors I found my way out of the scorching desert, the sizzling sand.  And the best past?  A little red dot began to flash uncontrollably on an agent’s sonar map.  The real search for me had began.  I had finally had a miniature sliver of hope; and, that is how they found me.  I started looking at what I wanted for my future. 

I don’t want to go to college.  I want to take my own path in the world.  I was that square peg that was trying so hard to fit into the round hole.  Now I will take advantage of that.  I have far more experience that most kids in school.  I do not know everything, but I am smart enough to see clearly and make educated decisions.  Being in a classroom for on average sixteen years is the minimal, somewhat “success” layout for the standard kid.  I would be paying out of pocket and making enormous loans for something that might apply to my life another thirty years down the road.  Money is the focus of America and this is not recondite to see.  The United States is not a country I can call successful.  Therefore, I refuse to go out of my way and chase paper.  I know how the real world works.  And I am prepared. 

Never would I have been able to openly speak such things before, and now I am unashamed and vocal.  Your program has permitted me to understand and observe others in a way I couldn’t before.  I am able to rationalize and analyze strangers and situations.  Judging based on appearance is an enormous concept that almost billions of people subconsciously do on a very regular basis.  It is disgusting and unmerciful.  What right do we have to base someone’s entire personality on the way they portray their image?  These pompous and unsparing accusations are lethal, despite how tough or unconcerned the person may look.  In a sense, I am fearless.  I will put myself in situations “normal” people wouldn’t.  At the mall, I am able to actively go out of my way and smile at those who seem withdrawn from society.  This can include “emo” looking teens all the way to hardcore bikers.  Most people are afraid of them, but why?  They don’t know their story.  They don’t know what they have suffered.  Outsiders have no right to write out a person’s life just because they “appear” sketchy.  At this point in my life, I realize that I do not plan what my life is set out to be; God has already written my book. 

Being raised in a so-called Christian family was a big challenge for me.  Being part of the Alliance Church community was demanded from my mother.  By the early age of six, I started to see through all of the bogus teachings of ways to get to heaven by good deeds.  The older I grew, the more I began to develop a stronger hatred to churches.  Being threatened into attending “Cubbies” and “Sparkies,” not going to the Tuesday kid’s program resulted in severe punishment from my mother.  by the time fourth grade hit, I graduated from “Sparkies” and into the youth group “T&T” also referred to as Truth and Training.

I had one “friend” who was not necessarily a friend but went to my school.  We had both just turned eleven.  We started to hangout at T&T and labeled it with nasty words.  She was too required by her parents to attend.  Her name was Hannah, and she was a total jock.  Me on the other hand, had just began creating an exclusive popular clique.  We were both stuck up and careless of consequences they’d give us at church.  However, one night something different happened. 

Hannah and I were both mouthing off about the speaker.  Like we were just going to sit there and watch someone talk about God right?  Where the hell was he when I needed protection from my mom’s blood curdling slaps and dehumanizing words?  Surely He wasn’t with me.  Then a middle aged woman came directly up to me.  She rudely accused me of distracting Hannah and that Hannah wanted to listen to the speaker.  I remember I looked at Hannah puzzled.  She gave me an “I have no idea what the f*** made her think that” look.  So I replied with a curled up lip and a snarl, “Clearly you don’t know Hannah.” 

This woman looked amish.  I will never forget.  She had ultra long brown hair that went down past her waist, a white blouse, a long jean skirt, brown thick laced boots with rubber soles, and eyes that opened the gates of hell.  She looked me square in the eye.  What she said in response is still chiseled in my skull, never will it fade:  “You disgust me.  With that attitude, I hope you, you go to Hell.”  Little did she know, I was already living in it; and, I had been for eleven years.

Throughout the many chapters of my life, I lost God altogether.  The leader at church hoped I would go to hell.  My mother told me I was going to hell.  I told myself I deserved hell.  From age eleven through age fifteen, I tried so many times to take my life; each time, it was cautiously calculated and doubled on research.  If I am going to hell, the sooner, the better.  That was my mindset.  But after my last hospital stay in April of 2014, I was ordered to go to Chaps. 

At Chaps, I met some very different girls, and coming from a “popular” click from high school, of course I was very judgemental.  However, I got  to see their lives, hear what horrific traumas they’ve just barely endured.  And after listening to two girls talk about how they were recorded dead for three-plus minutes and yet came back, is just jaw dropping to me. 

I thought then to myself, if God loves them enough to bring them back, then he must have kept me on this earth for a special mission I haven’t accomplished yet.  I accept that I am not in control of my life.  I tried killing myself with six very effective methods, yet I still remained alive.  Death is not in my control, but it is in God’s.  So why live in fear of someone because they have a creepy tattoo?  Why ignore homeless people because you feel awkward near them?  Why target a girl for sex based on her wearing high black heels and fishnet stockings?  Why have so many fears when you aren’t even in control of your life?

I have that advantage.  I embrace being in a sense carefree.  No, of course I’m not going to go on war territory just because I’m carefree.  That isn’t the type of freeness I’m talking about.  Anyhow, if there was someone with a gun robbing a grocery store holding hostages, I would be the person that wouldn’t let it affect me.  I would stroll right on over to the oreo aisle and have some oreos.  If I die, might as well die with a few oreos.  I would also probably analyze the person to determine how unstable he/she is.

But in some cases, the person armed doesn’t want to hurt anyone, just use fear tactics.  This can be for many reasons.  It could be the regular “let’s go rob a store” or it could be for gang training.  The robber could be in foreclosure, needs food for his/her family, in massive school debt, or possibly being forced against their will to do it fulfilling a ransom.

Now I know I’ve said a lot, but I have truly converted into a bright young woman with a lot of insightful views on the world.  I feel energized to live and motivated to do things that I love.  I am able to see things for how they are, not how people say they should be.  Most importantly, I do not take any fault for my mother’s profanation and maltreatment towards me.  I now realize that until she is willing to get the help she needs, I for one cannot have a healthy relationship with her. 

This took me years to finally understand, but when trying to create a healthy relationship with somebody that doesn’t take responsibility for their abusive actions, taking things personally is a big factor.  I recognize that I am not ready for a relationship with my mother until she can stabilize her emotions and erratic actions.  Until she can do so, I will not go out of my way to improve our relationship. 

I want to thank you once again for creating such a magnificent program, for especially teenage girls, where girls can get instant help and aren’t looked upon as another patient, but rather as another daughter.  I am undeniably grateful for such extravagant efforts made by the counselors in Shiocton.  Your program has unquestionably helped me save my life. 

Thank you for all your efforts,

Jane Doe