There’s nothing more torturous than being stuck in a place without any means of getting out. Maybe growing up where I did helped me learn about the poison in the world, but it doesn’t stop me from wishing things would have been better.

Where I’m from, it is usually easier to spark conversation about the latest drugs that are taking over the valley or who we know who just got caught for selling them. People start finding things in common based on the badness in their lives. There isn’t any way to fix it, so you might as well find a friend to help you cope.

I know you’re wondering where this place is, but I don’t want to give it away too soon. I want to describe the feeling this place gives so maybe you can understand a little better.

Imagine knowing that if you stay in this place you will never get out; the bad things will start to consume you. The people around you that you knew from high school aren’t the same. They have all this money with no jobs and half the time they aren’t sober enough to remember you. One of your friends might be an addict and every day you have to wonder if they’ll be okay. The worst part is there’s nothing you can do to stop it. They have to want it on their own. This place gives a feeling of hopelessness, and it makes you anxious because you feel a dark cloud over your head at all times.

Growing up I always had influence around me. Not only did addiction surround me, it wasn’t surprising to anyone. The junkie down the street or even the messed up old man that went to every high school football game - they were just overlooked; it wasn’t something new.

I’ll admit I didn’t start to realize how bad things were until I got older. Maybe it’s because I have a younger sibling and I worry so much about what or who is influencing her. Some try to keep their kids away from the typical high school party with alcohol. Where I’m from, the typical high school party might offer heroin, xanax, and prescription pain pills for the amount of money that my mother used to give me for lunch.

Now you have some background. I’ll let you know that I am from a place known as the “Ohio Valley.” It includes surrounding cities and towns such as the bordering city, Wheeling, West Virginia.

I’m not sure why or how things got so bad. The lack of things to do mixed with the lack of opportunity definitely adds to it. I won’t say that I haven’t been pulled in by influence, and by no means am I perfect, but the worries don’t subside. I can’t stop thinking about the younger generation in my family. What if influence drowns them and they can’t catch their breath? What if addiction surrounds them and they can’t get out?

I wish I didn’t have to talk about this or even give my opinion, but I don’t believe that no one feels the same. People are dying because of these drugs; our friends are dying because of these drugs; our family members are dying because of these drugs. Suicide, overdose and addiction flood this valley, and it feels like there’s no way to even gasp for air.

My words aren’t something that have unleashed an unknown problem. The problem has been alive for a long while, and it has become an ongoing cycle that is too hard to slow down once it takes off.

This venomous place gets under the skin of too many and I am so sick of watching people suffer. I’m so tired of seeing people lose everything due to their addiction and when they find their way back on the right track, they fall off again because of the enormous influence around them.

I’ve heard that where you come from does not define you. I’ve seen so much that proves that to be untrue.

I will always know this place as my home, but my home will always broken.