Hope - to create a better place

Hope is an optimistic state of mind that is based on an expectation of positive outcomes with respect to events and circumstances in one’s life or the world at large. The opposite of this definition of hope is hopelessness and despair, which for years, is how I lived my life.

My life began with tragedy when I was just four years old. My older brother was kidnapped out of the back of my dad’s truck, held captive for 4 days and then murdered. It was a hopeless and chaotic life. I was alive, fed, and clothed, but I was so confused on the inside. I even thought maybe everything, and everyone would be better if I had been the one who died. But- somewhere from the pit of my little heart, some hope began to stir. Hope that I was enough. Hope that my mother and father would smile again, and not be too afraid, or too hurt, to love me again. Hope that we would find out who murdered my brother. Hope that it was OK to be a little girl, to play, and be guilt free. However, for years these things did not happen.

This is a series of events in my life, which were so painful and gut wrenching, and shit that I would not ever wish upon another person, that would eventually stir hope in my life. At thirteen I was sexually assaulted; my virginity being stolen from me. There was nothing about this event that was my fault, but the devil in my mind had me convinced that I deserved this and other events that would be coming. I am here to tell you beautiful souls that you do not deserve anything like this ever.

Shortly after the attack, my life as a drug addict began, and the little glimpses of hope that would occasionally arise, would become few and far between. I was not a good student, a good sister, or daughter, and I thought I would never amount to anything or that anyone would be proud of me.

After the death of my son at age 40, I tried to take my own life. I shot enough heroin to kill myself. As I slowly was dying, I was given Narcan, and came back to life naked, in a bathtub full of ice. There still was no hope in my life after the event and from that point I was labeled a lost cause.

Well, there would be two more years of drug addicted living, residing under a bridge, and myself, an empty shell of a person, wandering without purpose. Eventually there was something that began to change deep inside me, this something was telling me to return home. A friendly person at a homeless shelter smiled at me and told me that I was worth more. Hope lays dormant until its amazing strength is beckoned. Supplying a sheer belief that you can overcome, persevere, and endure all that comes in your direction.

Hope is the belief that circumstances can get better, and oh God, yes they can! There is light after such a life filled with darkness. That welcoming lady with a beautiful smile helped me get into a drug treatment center. There, hope started to fill my mind, body, and soul. I slowly started to believe that there could be more for me, and that just maybe I was not a lost cause.

After treatment I did return home, only to be diagnosed two months later with stage 3 Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. I will not go into detail about this event at this time, but the hope that had been instilled in me continued to inspire.

OK! Let’s break this down:

1. My brother was murdered when I was a child.

2. Being sexually assaulted as a teenager.

3. My parents divorce, and ugly custody battle

4. My mothers new, and horribly abusive, boyfriend

5. A horrific addiction that lasted for two decades

6. The loss of my beautiful son

7. A suicide attempt that was too close to being successful

8. My diagnosis of stage 3 cancer

9. Two years’ worth of Chemotherapy

I survived all of these things, and still loved people, knowing that there was a reason I was still alive. “Some women wait for something to change, and nothing does change, so they change themselves” – Audre Lorde.

“For I know the plans I have for you” declares the Lord. “Plans to prosper you, and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope, and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11

Here are the things that have brought me hope throughout all these horrific events. Number one, my faith in God. Getting my life together in such a way that my parents would not have to bear the agony of losing another child. Being a sister, an aunt, and a friend that the people I love could count on and be proud of. My boy smiling down from heaven at his mama. Not being another Native American statistic, and making a difference for the better for my people on the reservation I grew up on. Seeing others pull themselves out of Hell and rebuild their lives and restore their hearts.

When I die, I do not want to be remembered for anything but this:

That I had a great empathy for sexual abuse victims, domestic violence victims, the victims of murder and their families, the poor parents who have buried their children, drug addicts just trying to find their way home, and for those who are battling cancer, as well as the victims of cancer and their families. That I had a great hope of changing her life around to help others. Hoping that telling my story would change and help at least one person. That I had hope that the world in general would change the way they look at those people whose eyes are sad and broken, damaged, and are considered lost causes. Because I assure you, they are not, you are not, and I am not a lost cause. Hope is an inspiration that we can spread among the world to create a better place.