Probably not the question anyone is asking me, but I still want to answer it. (TLDR provided at the end of post.)
The last few years have been rough for me, so I had to take a step back from writing, as much as it hurt to do so. It looks like December 2018 was the last time I posted, so I'll start from there.
In late 2018, I decided that I was going to join the military. That's right. Overweight and absolutely lazy Leighton was going to join one of the most physically demanding careers she could think of. Why? Because I felt lost and it was always a dream of mine, no lie. I had many dreams as a child and three always remained the same; be a famous actress, be a mom and wife, and join the military. In late 2018, I didn't feel as if the first two were going great (just graduated college with a degree in theatre, but no professional experience, and had no romantic partner) so I decided that I was going to finally join the military.
For two and a half years, I exercised and studied. I struggled with dieting and being consistent with training for the first year. I read the Air Force's Airman's Handbook three times. I wanted to do what I needed to do to make this work. I put everything else aside. After struggling the first year, I knew I needed to change something and give myself a better reason to train other than "that's what child me wanted".
Don't ever let someone tell you spite isn't a great motivator.
I had dated someone who told me that me losing weight was going to make me ugly and he liked it better when I was overweight and out of shape. He tried everything to get me to stop. I threw him away, but kept him on social media so he could watch me thrive from a distance. I made sure anyone who knew me in high school and made fun of my weight was also watching online. Spite became my motivation and it was working.
I trained six days a week most weeks. I hired a professional trainer and worked at a gym during this time. My trainer? Retired Marine. She knew what I needed to do to join the military as a female. She knew the work that I needed to keep up with to make the dream happen. My coworkers at the gym were also fantastic in helping me keep up with training. Why? Most of them were retired soldiers. The people who came to the gym almost everyday? A lot of them were soldiers from the nearby base. Everyone knew what my goal was and everyone helped me stay on track for over two years.
That's what made getting sent home hurt so much.
I was a week and a half away from graduating and the doctors found something wrong with my lungs, which meant I couldn't stay in the Air Force. I was so sad I was getting sent home that in the four weeks I was in medhold (where they put anyone who is getting sent home or being held back for any reason), I gained 35 pounds. I wasn't allowed to exercise (being on a "dead man's waiver" AKA "this person is not allowed to exercise because they have a condition") and I still had to eat three full meals a day and a snack at night (we weren't allowed to "diet" because they didn't want us starving ourselves). I came home and broke down. I gained another 10 pounds that first month.
I ended up getting a job I didn't enjoy. I got a boyfriend and eventually moved in with him. I gained another 20 pounds because I was sad about my loss of military career still. My boyfriend was able to convince me to start exercising again. It worked for about a month and I stopped because he ended up getting sick for a week and it threw us off of going to the gym.
I went to see a therapist because my doctor thought I was depressed. I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. (Fun.) But, I was never wanted to unalive myself, so my therapist was light on me. I don't see her anymore (which is more because therapy is really expensive, even with insurance).
All of this within a year of getting sent home.
I felt as if I failed everyone who ever cheered me on. I felt as if I failed my parents and family. I felt like I failed myself. That's the depression.
I felt as if everything I did -all of the studying and training- was wasted. I felt like I wasted my time and it didn't matter. That's the anxiety.
Then in November of 2022, I lost my job. More anxiety. How would I pay bills?
Luckily, my mother knew a friend that was hiring and they hired me in January of 2023. I love it there and they are so nice.
It took some time, but I got a handle on things. Nowadays, I'm pretty much fine. My boyfriend and I are good. I started streaming on Twitch. I started a new weight loss and fitness journey and started posting it on YouTube. I really like my life.
I feel like I'm finally me again.
My creativity came back. I had no outlet aside from gaming on Twitch for it to flow and I decided to get back into fanfiction writing. It was the outlet I missed so much.
So, I'm back and I'm here to stay.
ngl - spite is still motivating me. can't let the haters win
TLDR;;
Here's the timeline of the last few years:
October 2018 - Decided to join military
December 2018 - Graduated college
January 2019 - Met Air Force recruiter
May 2019 - Walked my graduation ceremony
March 2020 - COVID, so I decided to finally work out harder and get my motivation
December 2020 - Got COVID and got set back by a few pounds
April 2021 - Met weight requirements and swore in (private)
May/June 2021 - Swear In ceremony (public)
July 14, 2021 - Got The Call
July 19, 2021 - Went to MEPS and swore in again (private)
July 20, 2021 - Flew to BMT
August 25, 2021 - Doctors found something wrong with my lungs
August 27, 2021 - Went to Medhold
September 28, 2021 - Flew home
December 2021 - Got a job
March 2022 - Got diagnosed
November 2022 - Lost job (job got "dissolved" in a start of a massive layoff due to poor monetary management)
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