They say confession is good for the soul.

I'm going to take you back........way back.  We're going to start from the lovely age of 15, because up to that point my life was uneventful.  First, however, let me give you a basic family overview.  I grew up in a home where, for a short time, religion was unimportant.  My mom and dad met in the 80's after my dad left the army.  He and my mom, and both sets of grandparents attended church together.  My mom and dad both had their struggles, but married on April 27, 1984.  I was born May 31, 1985 and my sister Rachel popped out May 28, 1987.  We moved around a lot when I was kid.  Always the same town, but different houses and schools.  Eventually, we moved to Illinois and my parents found God.  My dad eventually became a minister, and my mom became a school bus driver.  My sister was a track star, basketball player, youth group attendee, etc.  I was a band geek.  So there you go.  You get the basic idea, anyway.

The first major life event for me happened when I was 15.  My family and I were on our way home from church when we received a phone call informing us that our house was on fire.  I recall my dad driving somewhere in the neighborhood of 100 miles an hour trying desperately to get there, as if getting there would somehow stop it.  It didn't.  We lost everything.  After that, we moved into town which was a major change for us.  I had grown up in the country, where my sister was my closest friend because she was the only person around.  The house we moved into was small and shitty, but it was only a temporary rental, so for the short time we were there, I guess it wasn't that bad.  I chose the basement as my bedroom, because at 15 a girl needs her privacy you know.  It was at that point that I discovered I could sneak out of the window when mom and dad were asleep, and they would be none the wiser.  I met a boy named Zef.  He would come in the middle of the night to pick me up.  I would sneak out the window, walk a block to the Jr. High parking lot, and we would go on adventures.  I eventually would give up my prized virginity in the heat of the moment, in an abandoned house on a dirt road.  That didn't last, obviously.

My next boyfriend of sorts was Bobby.  He was 25.  My dad almost killed him when I came home and told him that I thought I was pregnant.  Thank God I wasn't.  After that, I was forced to live up my parents' assholes.  They watched me like a hawk.  I met a boy named Ryan through a friend we shared mutually, Tierra.  (She is still my best friend to this day.)  I dated Ryan for 6 years.  We attended 3 proms, and even decided to go to college together.  We chose good ole Murray State University in Murray, KY.  I had decided at the age of 11 that I wanted to chase tornadoes, so as the plan would I have it, I elected to enter the Meteorology program.  I ended up being able to start college classes a year before I graduated, but obviously lived at home.  Until I was 17 anyway.

At 17, I moved out of our family home and into a dorm room at Murray.  Ryan moved into a different dorm across campus.  That summer, the family home I moved out of burned down.  Yes, that's TWO house fires.  I was less involved with the second one, because I only stayed there part time.  College was great.  At first.  I did ok, but I was so excited that mom and dad couldn't watch me that I spent most of my time either in Ryan's dorm room doing exactly what you're thinking OR at frat parties seeing just how hammered I could get.  After my first semester there, I found out that my very best friend and her father had been killed in a car accident on her birthday.  I went home for a few months, but things at Murray were never the same.  Ryan and I had gotten engaged right before I found out, but within a month of Melanie and Brad's death, we had split up.  Yet another devastating blow.  (Or so I thought.)

I went back to Murray, single and on the prowl.  I had met Don through Ryan.  They lived across the hall from each other and had become great friends.  He and I started dating, and things were great.  I found out about his drug use after about a month.  Drugs weren't my thing, but I wanted so badly for him to like me that I was willing to do anything.  I began using cocaine.  The addiction came fast and before I knew it, I didn't recognize myself.  My parents had stopped talking to me because of my alcohol use.  They've never known about the drugs, or what happened next.  I eventually was arrested for underage possession of alcohol and grand theft auto.  All charges were dropped, but being arrested is one shitty fucking feeling.  I felt so ashamed that I went home to my mom and dad for about a month.  Then out of the blue, I told them I was going to a movie with some friends and the next day Don and I eloped.  I didn't see my mom again for over a year.  We moved to Nashville where I became a stripper to support my cocaine habit.  I dealt with horrible mental abuse from Don.  I wasn't allowed to buy my own clothes, dress myself, shave my own legs, etc.  I had to weigh myself everyday, and if I gained an ounce, he would lock the refrigerator.  If he wanted to go out, I had to be dressed to the nines in his taste, or he would leave me at home.  Eventually, I caught him with another woman.  I lost it and almost killed the girl.  Payback is a bitch though, and I decided "eye for an eye".  I had a one night stand with a man whose name will never be released.  Two months later, I found out I was pregnant.

I quit the drugs and alcohol immediately.  When I told both of the guys I was pregnant, neither wanted anything to do with me.  So there I was alone, pregnant, jobless.......and desperate.  I lived in my car for a while, then moved to a homeless shelter in Paducah, KY.  I stayed there for two weeks, then hopped along to my friend Dana's in IL.  I stayed there for a couple weeks, but had worn out my welcome.  I didn't know what to do.  I went to a strip club in DeSoto, IL where they were doing amateur night.  I had no money, and thought that was a simple way to make some cash.  I ended up not getting on stage because there was only one other girl there.  She and I ended up leaving and going to crash on some guys couch.  I had no idea who either of them were, but it beat sleeping in my car.  The next day, she asked me to take her to buy some drugs.  When we got to the guy's house, I told her I needed to run to the gas station and that I would be right back.  I was 40 minutes away from my parents.  I never saw that girl again.  When I pulled into the driveway of my mom's, my car ran out of gas.  Pretty cliche huh?

They welcomed me home with only slight hesitation.  I got a job as a waitress at a local dive, and did my best to maintain a healthy pregnancy.  Don and I had obviously filed for divorce, but it couldn't be finalized until after the baby was born.  While working at said dive, I met a guy.  James.  He was a meth addict, and was fresh out of prison, but my God he was perfect.  When I was 7 months pregnant, we went on our first date, shared our first kiss, and were inseparable.  In December of 2005, I gave birth to my oldest daughter Melanie Renee.  It was love at first sight.  In February of that year, my parents caught James and I dating and told me that if I continued dating him, I couldn't live with them.  Again, I abandoned my parents and moved in with him and his parents.  Classy, right?  He quit doing meth and hasn't touched it to this day, but in doing so he became an alcoholic.  Eventually, we moved to Olney, IL.  When Melanie was 6 months old, I found out I was pregnant again.  It took a while to get excited, but it eventually came.  James and I were in the throws of what I call the worst year of my life.  He was drunk all the time, and very abusive.  I threatened to leave him several times, but never did.

When I was 6 months pregnant, we had to move back into his parents' house because financially we couldn't survive.  He quit drinking, as much anyway, and got his GED.  In February of 2007, our second daughter Lillian (Lily) Kathleen was born.  In July of the same year, he and I finally got married at the bequest of my parents.  James became a coal miner, and I became the manager at the local Subway.  In 2008, we both got EMT licenses and began working for the local ambulance company.  We decided that we wanted another baby, and began actively trying to get pregnant.  In November of 2008, we were so excited to find out that we were pregnant with our third child.  Nobody else was quite as excited.

At 3 months pregnant, I began having several complications.  The details are long and boring, but for the remainder of the pregnancy I was either in the hospital or on total bed rest.  Shayne Alyssa-Bradleigh was born in July of 2009 at 32 weeks gestation.  She weighed 4 lb. 8 oz. at birth.  Having survived the pregnancy, which was questionable at times, I opted to have my tubes tied.

In October of that year, we found out that our oldest daughter, Melanie, had been being molested by our 15 year old nephew.  Seven days after finding out, we moved to Peoria, IL in order to escape the drama.  I began working for an ambulance service in town, and eventually went to Paramedic school.

In December of 2010, I was injured in the line of duty.  I went through 6 months of therapy, and returned to duty in May of 2011.  In December of that year, I was injured again, but much more severely.  I have been unable to return to duty, and have been told that I will never work again.  The doctors are now saying that I may become paralyzed in the future.  I have a lot to deal with because of these injuries.  I decided to live in the now, and taught myself to crochet, and I also became the lead singer of a band.  I finally feel like I have found somewhere I belong.  On stage.

So there you have it.  My life in a nutshell.  It's pretty long, but trust me, that's the short version.