How It All Began

From the age of 12 I was raised in a small town about an hour south of Chicago called Yorkville. My family had to relocate from Southern IL due to my dad getting a new job. I went through all my phases, from prep to edgy paramore groupy. I had the perfect family. I was one of the only kids whos parents weren't divorced out of my friends. My mom worked at a daycare part-time, so she would always be home in the evenings with my sister and I.

Going into highschool I really had no idea who I was. I got into the whole "I'm a hick, but I live in a subdivision" stage, since it was the cool thing to do at the time. I remember always thinking these idiots wear camo all the time, and probably have never even shot a gun. I was raised out in the country. I learned how to shoot a gun at the age of 7, and I was driving something tractors from the time I could walk. This stage wasn't as foreign to me, since I was surrounded by the actual lifestyle not the fake ass stage since I was little. I really had a non-existent highschool career due to dating someone older, and wanting to grow up to fast. When I actually did hangout with "friends" I always felt so different.

I had one more year left of highschool, and I was out of that place for good. I had big plans on attending Bradley Univeristy the following year. This is when it all happened. Trying to remember that last year is hard, because I think my mind tries to block it out as part of the "healing process." My parents began to have major problems, and an affair was the root of it. That year was my living hell, and I had no way out. The police were not stranger to our house that year. From a suicide attempt from both my parents, and being woke up at 3AM to a team of local cops in swat gear those memories will never leave me. My sister and I were left to raise ourselves.

When I wasn't visiting Bradley I was out drinking until I was black out drunk at house parties. I only did this a handful of times, because I was traveling back and forth from Peoria so much. I had no parental supervision or rules for that fact so I basically did what I wanted without any questions being asked. Finally it was time for me to leave home, and head off to start my journey at Bradley University. Being away from home all I wanted to do now was go out and drink as much as possible to dull the pain of thinking about what happened that pervious year. For awhile this did dull the pain. As that freshman year went by I started to drink more, and more nights out of the week. At the end of that year I was drinking 5 times a week if not more.

I surrounded myself at Bradley who only liked me because of my crazy drinking habits. I was always that one girl who was down to go out, and drink excessivly. Drinking turned to abussing my perscription anxiety medicine. Mixing these two made the last half of my freshman year a blur, and that is what I wanted. I wanted to do anything to make it where I didn't have to even think about what I went through before getting to Bradley. These habbits lead into my Freshman year summer. I decided to go stay with my dad that summer. We just moved out of our big house after the divorce was final, and my dad just moved into a two bed room apartment. My sister was also living there, so that meant I was sleeping on a matress on the living room floor. This is where my downward spiral began.

Now that I was home I wasn't drinking like I was at school. That also meant I wasn't abussing my perscription either, since it didn't make me feel the same without the alcohol added. All of my problems crashed into me like hitting a fucking brick wall. I didn't know it then, but I was struggling with Post Tramatic Stress Disorder. Any smell, sound, or conversation would always lead to a horrible memory of that senior year. I would have full blown panic attacks where I was laying in the fetal position for hours sobbing. I didn't understand why I felt like this. Why I had to be on my own to deal with this at such a young age. I suffered from these episodes daily, and this lead me into a massive depression. I stopped eating, and dropped down to 90lb. I was at the point where I did not want to live one more day. I felt alone, and tortured by my own thoughts.

Before I knew it, it was time to head back to Bradley to start my sophomore year. I came back to school looking frail, but I received so many compliments, because I had such a durastic weight loss. I was still depressed, and didn't know how to cope with my PTSD. I stopped drinking completely, and so did my current boyfriend that I met the previous year. He was the one person who didn't lie to me. The first time he saw me in my sports bra, he had a look of shock from me being so skinny. He told me it was time to put weight on, and I knew it was. That is when my love for the iron started.

I was so tired of feeling vulnerable at this point in my life. I didn't want to be the poor girl whos life was turned upside down anymore. I started to do so much research on competing. I submerged myself in it, and decided I was going to prep for my first show. I was doubted my entire journey to the stage that first prep. I was mocked, laughed at, and the main topic to trash around campus for those three months. Honestly I took it like a champ. A year before this I went through hell and back so people talking shit about me all the time didn't phase me one bit. This sport helped me cope. It saved my life, and I was being made fun of for bettering myself.

Did I still deal with my depression and PTSD? Fuck yes I did. Having to deal with mom's week at Bradley was always one of the worst times, since my mother has been out of my life for three years now. People call me obsessed or a fitness freak, but what they don't know is that this sport gave me the will to live. It gave me that confidence to know I'm a fighter, and always will be. God gave me the strength to endure more than most people have been through in their life.

Here I am three years later still chasing my dreams. I have my own apartment, have competed in four NPC bikini bodybuilding shows, am a sponsored athlete of multiple companies, a fur mama, and have a new car at the age of 21. I share my story to spread hope. I try to speak for those who have felt how I have felt. You are not alone. One goal of mine to accomplish through my fitness career is to shed light on depression and PTSD. I am a self made story that anyone can cope, and overcome these demons. I have huge plans of expanding my Personal Training business, and going pro.

Still to this day I can't tell my story without crying. The reason I put myself through reliving those horrible times is to let people know YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Always fight for what you beleive in, and always be fearless.