Almost half of Americans feel alone, but what does that mean? Have you ever felt alone? Not as in you are the only person inside the room, but alone as there is no one in your life that cares about you or no one in your life that loves you. I have felt this, and haunting, degrading thoughts would fuel it: how could someone love me? I have a loud laugh, I’m overweight, and tend to be a little obnoxious. I am worthless. If I were to fall off the face of the Earth right now, no one would care. In a few weeks time, everyone would’ve forgotten about me and I would be easily replaced. These ran through my head every night for a year and would replay themselves over and over. I couldn’t breathe and the pain was too overwhelming for me to function or to have any rational thoughts.

I knew I needed help, but where would I go? My problems are irrelevant; I am irrelevant. Women are losing their basic rights, the LGBTQ community is fighting to be respected, people who are being raped while they’re unconscious, and I’m just a random teenager who is going through a rough patch. These agonizing thoughts continued, and I felt so hopeless. Once I started having suicidal thoughts I knew that I had to tell someone before I did anything drastic. The hardest thing I ever had to do was look my mom in the eye and tell her I wanted to die. With the help of therapy and medication, I realised it was my time to start loving the person I am. It was time for me to take back the years of self love that self loathing had stolen away from me. It was my time to reclaim myself. It was my time to be who I want to be.

Everyday you see Chela. The Chela who smiles at you down the hallways, who is always telling jokes and laughing, who has the is always the perfect life. You see the Chela who is happy.

Every night you don’t see Chela. The Chela who cries every night, who feels alone and unimportant, who has suicidal thoughts. You don’t see the Chela who is depressed.

I am Chela, and there is no one else I’d rather be