Welcome To My Life

I have pondered over this post for several days, wondering how much is “too much” to share. Then yesterday morning I read this and was both moved and inspired. Of course there are a few things that are too personal to share at this time, but as a whole, my past has been a journey that has led me to being the person I am today. My “scars are symbols of my strength.”

I was born into a typical Bible Belt family in a very small town, just south of the Florida/Alabama line. Both of my parents are conservative Christians that came from relatively large families, themselves. The baby of three children, I was also the only girl, so I was babied and spoiled a bit, a princess in our home. We were brought up in church and were always surrounded by music. Music was a huge influence in my life. I began singing public when I was only about 3 years old, starting at our home church and moving on to other churches in the community and small festivals. At a very young age, I would say that I wanted to be a singer when I grew up. It’s fair to say that music was one of first things that I truly loved, and during everything I’ve gone through in life, good and bad, music has been a constant. Our family didn’t have a lot of money but we didn’t care. God provided. We were blessed and we didn’t need for anything.

I began Kindergarten in a small, K-12 school with a population of around 400. The first couple of years I fit in well. I had friends, I was ahead of my grade level in my school work. The only downfall was that, although no one in my class seemed to notice, I was a bit chubbier than my peers, and the older kids picked on me. Being the shy kid that I was, I was an easy target. As I got older this continued and my classmates joined in as they noticed that my size was different than the norm of our age group.

 

By middle school, I was being constantly bullied, whether for my weight or my clothes or shoes, or whatever. I felt very awkward and isolated as an everyday occurrence. Outside of music class, I didn’t feel like I belonged with people I had always been friends with, or any group for that matter. I began struggling with schoolwork and I clearly fell short in sports, unlike the girls I had always hung out with in elementary school. I did cheer, but had there been enough people sign up to require tryouts, I certainly would not have made the cut as I was not athletic in the least. It did help my self-esteem a little bit to finally feel like I belonged to something. Unfortunately, bullies also attend basketball games. I remember, vividly, being taunted by a couple of students in the bleachers on more than on occasion.

It was around this time that I believe my path into depression began… and I medicated with food. Whether I was sad or lonely, or if I had a good day and felt like celebrating, food was always there. Food was my comfort. Food was my drug. And food became my addiction. It quickly became an endless cycle because food was also my enemy. The more I ate, the more weight I gained, and the more depressed I would become… leading me to eat more.

In eighth grade, I moved to a new school. This time it was a middle school that, in only 3 grade levels, had more students than my previous school. I mostly kept to myself. I had a few friends but wasn’t especially close to anyone and still didn’t quite feel like I fit in. During the second semester of eighth grade, I began having an extreme amount of pain and I wasn’t quite sure why. It wasn’t until 10^th grade that I was diagnosed with severe endometriosis. I was told that there was a high probability that I would need a full hysterectomy by age 25, so I would need to have children early. Because there was also a risk of fertility issues in my future, I was referred to a doctor who would be able to assist with that when the time came. I was crushed. I thought I had things so planned out. I had always thought I would be a mom someday, but children did not fit into the plan that early in life. After several more months of pain, surgery, and treatments/ side effects from said treatments, I had come to terms with the fact that I would most likely have to adopt. All of these things had led to me being even more reclusive than before. I begged my doctor to go ahead and do the hysterectomy so that I wouldn’t be in constant agony. Because of my age and the fact that I had not have children yet, I was refused. I continued trying different treatments and suffered different horrible side effects from each one. I spiraled further into depression. I gained more weight. During a 3 month span of a certain medication, I went up several bra cup sizes. I was so ashamed and I wore baggy clothes and jackets (no matter the weather) to cover up. By the summer before senior year, I had had to resort to a breast reduction. In a wicked twist of fate, my recovery hit some major complications. It took 6 months to heal to a point where I could even begin to feel comfortable in my own skin. Like everyone else I knew, I focused on what I was going to do after school. Due to the health issues that I had throughout high school, I had was absent a lot and my grades suffered. I worked extremely hard to try to reach a GPA that would qualify me for a scholarship, but sadly fell short. I visited my dream college and made plans to attend online classes for my basics, while working part time, then to transfer to Belmont University in Nashville, TN, to get my degree in Music Business & Management.

Turns out, I wasn’t a big fan of college. (HA!) I was so burnt out on school that I neglected to commit to my classes. I decided to try cosmetology school instead, and again decided that wasn’t the path for me. Because I had spent my teenage years hiding, I experienced my “teenage rebellion” phase when I was 21. But I still didn’t feel like I fit in with anyone. I invited several coworkers to celebrate my birthday at karaoke night, my newfound outlet. Only one showed up. It felt like middle school all over again. I began drinking a bit too much, and got myself into situations that I never would have before. On top of depression, I began having panic attacks when things got tough. I lost jobs due to my health issues. I felt out of control, like I had no say in my life anymore. Still living with my parents while most people my age were graduating from college, I decided to make a list of things I wanted to accomplish and gave myself a timeline. But still, my endometriosis and depression held me back.  Finally, at age 25, I convinced my doctor to grant my wish for a hysterectomy. I started going back to church. I worked as the nursery director at the church. Several months later, I moved with my family, back to my hometown area. Months after that, I was essentially homeless, sleeping on friends’ couches and in their guest rooms until I could get a place of my own. But I learned the power of prayer was real. The week after I left home, I got a 2^nd job at a fast food restaurant, and a 3^rd as a substitute teacher. Soon, I was substituting enough that I was able to drop the fast food job. By spring break, I was also babysitting, housesitting, and pet sitting in my free time, and hoarding the money to put toward a place of my own. I moved into my first apartment that summer. And, the following winter, I finally got back the job I had been most disappointed to lose. I’m still at that job (although currently out dealing with recently diagnosed herniated discs in my lower back) and things are finally beginning to feel on track. I’m ready to take the steps necessary to finally to be a grown up. I have made some amazing friends. I plan to start school soon to be a teacher, and save to move to my dream city, Nashville. I’m still interested in music but, right now, I’m not really sure in what respect. Whether or not I pursue music in the future, Nashville is still where I want to be.

There have been some definite curves thrown at me this year, but I feel like I am learning to cope with them. I rarely have panic attacks anymore. I do still struggle with depression but not nearly as badly as before. I feel that I am healing now. I get along with my family better than I have in years. Despite hitting snags, my life is finally coming together. I look forward to my future and my goals are in sight. And I hope you all will come along for the ride.

Love, Leigh

Testing 1, 2, 3...

No doubt, I have been sheltered. Perhaps a bit coddled. I thought it would be easy to break away as an adult whenever I had the money (certainly not a moment before) and I'd never look back. It was meticulously planned. I'd leave the nest of my own volition and fly free. Little did I know...
Years ago, when I had an idea for a blog, it was to be a way to keep track of a "To-Do List" of things I wanted to accomplish before the age of 30.  Now, at 28, I have once again procrastinated my time away. Don't get me wrong, I have definitely made strides over the past few years; I just haven't accomplished anything that was on that list. Life has taken me in a different direction. It's become a journey of learning lessons, rather than just ticking off an itinerary. Of course, I still have the dreams from the original draft, but I have learned that you can't predict life. There are the typical up and downs, and round-and-rounds, and definitely a few surprise loop-de-loops. Some are fun, some scary, some downright tragic. On this quest, I have learned that sometimes independence can be lonely.
So now I have scrapped my original blog idea in favor of a sounding board, a creative outlet, a place to cry and also to laugh. I will be as open as I feel to allow myself to friends, family, and also to strangers who may visit this blog. And I will be unapologetic for days when I lack a filter. That is, after all, who I am. One must be willing to be honest, if one intends to grow as a person. Right?
Here goes...