KAIT'S STORY

This is my story, and it's a long one so settle in. 

I was born into a religious home in a small town located in Arkansas. My testimony began in the first grade. Walking in on my first day, I was feeling tons of confidence. What first grader wouldn't when you are the only kid in your class wearing glasses? That confidence lasted about 10 seconds as I settled into my seat. I remember a kid pointing and calling me a name as the whole class erupted into laughter. Thinking about it now, I don't think it was that big of a deal but back then, it meant everything to me. My downward spiral of low self-esteem was planted there.

First grade was rough. No one wanted to be friends with the strange kid with glasses. Isolated, I found a love for drawing as that was all I could do to pass the time. I remember always using a lined paper notebook to doodle in as I grew up in a poor family so fancy sketchbooks were not an option.

Elementary school would carry on and I would struggle a lot. Aside from the constant bullying I was struggling to keep up with my peers. Reading was extremely difficult and math well, let's just say I was no genius. I remember distinctly in second grade a teacher announcing in front of the whole class that I was failing at reading. And at the school award show, I was the only kid without a reading medal. But second grade wasn't all bad. Because that year at the school art show I tied for second place in my grade. I was given a little red ribbon that still sits in my studio to this day. That one ribbon would motivate me to become an even better artist.

I was obsessed with drawing. Anything I could think of I would create. Drawing and art were the one thing I knew I was good at and no grade could ever stop me from creating. While the girls were comparing new clothes and toys, I would be off in my own space creating a world all my own to exist in. 

My home life wasn't one of peace, unfortunately. It seemed like screaming and fighting were always a part of daily life in the house. I never knew why as a kid, just thought everyone else was going through the same thing as me. I remember hiding in my closet a lot, holding a flashlight to draw with. I remember harsh words and my siblings crying a lot too. Slamming doors and my parents yelling, it was a lot to take in as a kid. So I would go outside and build little worlds for my toys to live in, one full of peace and fun. Eventually, I discovered the internet. I remember a kid asking me if I had ever watched YouTube, and no I hadn't. But oh boy did my life change when I decided to see what YouTube was all about. But more on that later.

I never knew why we went to church growing up, just something we had to do. But I remember the people who invested in me. One Sunday the pastor was talking about heaven and hell. It terrified me to think about burning forever as I was scared of fire so later that Sunday I decided to repeat the prayer they taught us in church, the prayer of salvation. At the time I don't think I fully understood why I wanted Christ, but God did. I came to God out of fear, tired of fighting and bullies. He was a last resort for me, and oh the adventure He was about to take me on.

I remember finishing off my elementary years in 5th grade at a presentation. I decided to present on bullying which was bold for a small kid who didn't talk to other people. When people found out I was being bullied in a way the blame fell on me. It was my fault for not telling others and that feeling burned in my chest that it was my fault. So I never told anyone how I felt again. Which isn't a great tactic especially when entering the battlefield of middle school. At the time I didn't know I was struggling with dyslexia and ADHD, mental health was not a topic in my household so I had no clue there was an issue.

There was no shortage of people calling me weird or different so I thought it was my burden to carry. I cheated my way through school, trying to find any way to just pass and not be held back. Nights were full of tears as I desperately tried to memorize every answer for every test. There was a saving grace though, art class. I had a wonderful teacher who I remember to this day. She looked me in the eye and said "You are a great artist." Mrs. Rowe was the first person to ever truly look at me with such love and attention when it came to art. She made me believe. 

As I progressed through middle school, judgment from my peers didn't let up very much. Eventually, my low self-esteem caught up to me and I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror. Voices in my head screamed of the horrible things people had said to me. I suffered silently. A smile hid all of my pain and my pillow knew all of my tears at night. Eventually, the darkness became too hard to handle and I had decided I was finished living. Three times though, God didn't allow me to visit Him. One final night on my knees, my hands shaking as I grip a final goodbye letter, I made a deal with God. I told Him if I make it to 20 years old, He can have my life.

I made no life plan because I wholeheartedly believed I wouldn't make it to 20. But God had other plans. As my middle school year came to a close I remember a revival event coming to my school. I only remember one moment, it was the first time I ever felt the holy spirit move. As I sat in my chair waiting for an alter call prayer to finish something inside of me moved. I remember opening my eyes to find myself standing up in a sea of seated people. All I heard was "Walk" and the next thing I knew I was moving towards the stage. I will always remember that moment because it freaked me out, it was like I wasn't in control. At that moment God was becoming very real to me.

My roughest battle was high school. Climbing in the car after summer camp, my parents informed me my dad had lost his job and we would all be homeschooled going forward. I was devastated. I had made some important friendships at school, they were my escape. And now I would be trapped at home 24/7. My saving grace was an art class my mom decided to enroll me in and let me tell you I wanted nothing to do with it. My depression and anxiety had pushed my brain into full shutdown and I was done. But somehow I went anyway. I remember sitting in the back of the class, headphones in, and scribbling in my sketchbook. And man it felt like these other students wouldn't leave me alone! All they ever did was be nice to me and try to talk to me. Which angsty me wanted nothing to do with. Eventually, I gave into a girl's constant begging for me to sit with her. So I sat, and eventually, she got me to talk, and then I never stopped talking. Months would go by and I would grow to love all the people in this art class. It was my safe space and you could just feel the love for Jesus these people had. And when I got home I would research as much as I could on YouTube about how to draw and animation. YouTube became my safe place at home.

For a short moment, I truly felt like there was hope for me. And then I got a text that that art class was ending. And most of the people in that art class were moving far away. I was absolutely devastated. The fear and depression crept back in as I said goodbye to the kindest people I ever knew. Graduation rolled around and I was a shell of a human. Depression, anxiety, and eating disorders were all I thought about. And after a date that went wrong with a guy, I told God I was done, I was fed up! No more experiences, no more goals, and no more guys, I was done. And it was like God said "Ah look, you are learning" and plopped my future husband right into my timeline. And oh how this boy took me by surprise. He opened my eyes to the problems within my family, teaching me that good people do exist.

Negativity was the main mood of my family. Gossip and discord ruled the household. And my poor husband endured it all for me, he truly is a trooper. I was still struggling big time through our dating season. I had just launched my own art school right as covid had hit. Matt and I couldn't see each other and I desperately tried to keep my business afloat. It was a struggle for sure. I would fight with God because I didn't want to teach. I was angry about covid happening and my mom getting cancer at the same time. I was burnt out trying to help take care of my younger siblings. My world was shattered. And then on my 20th birthday, Matt proposed and my world changed forever. I had made it to 20.

My life changed for sure after that moment, but I was entering the most difficult season of my life thus far. Being the oldest daughter to be married off first definitely rocked the family dynamic. I remember Matt and I would go on car dates at Starbucks then sneak to a church service to worship together. Matt taught me how to have my own relationship with Christ.

I began taking my life with Christ seriously in that season as I realized my relationship with Christ was mine to care for. My church outings caused fights between my parents and I. The one that stuck out the most was being told that if I brought covid home from church and my siblings got sick and died, that blood would be on my hands. But God kept calling me back to the church, I had to go. 2020 would be a rough ending as my health began to fracture. Medical appointments, scans, and procedures became normal as doctors tried to find what was causing my body to fail. But no one had answers. 

Eventually, Matt and I got married. It was a bit of a messy process getting to that point. Fear really had a hold on my parents and it was deflected onto myself and my siblings. Once we were finally married and on our own, my body finally gave out. It would be long months of no answers. It was a fight every day to keep teaching. I would put on a brave face as I fought to stay upright while pouring into my students. Over time I think all my mental battles were having a physical effect on me. Luckily Matt and a good pastor convinced me to seek help. Well, more forced me to get help. Counseling became a normal routine for me and it helped so much. Matt and I would grow a lot in our first years of marriage. Dealing with health challenges, past childhood trauma, and learning to set boundaries with my family, it grew us a lot. Eventually, God moved us to a small town all on our own. A new house, a new job, and a new puppy. And unfortunately, this is where my health would reach its lowest valley. 

My health had improved with the counseling visits. Until one day before meeting a friend, I stumbled into Walmart bathroom and nearly passed out from the sickness that had overcome me. This sickness I had felt before but never to this degree. I would fight through 2023 just trying to survive. Doctors began to find possible answers. First, it was my lower abdomen muscles had been damaged from years of sickness. So I endured 8 months of intensive pelvic floor therapy. Which led to a discovery that my lower spine wasn't functioning as it should. So 8-9 months of intensive back therapy became my weekly life.

Our yearly checkups rolled around and our doctor had asked if there were any concerns and at first, I lied about needing help. Until I couldn't take the sickness anymore and walked back into that doctor's office a week later. I was referred to a specialist and they began running every test in the book. Needles and bloodwork became a normal occurrence. I would go to the doctor or physical therapy then come right back to teaching or live events. I kept all of this hidden from most people, I didn't want to be seen as weak. One night as I was struggling to sleep, I began to draw at my desk. That Holy Spirit feeling came to me again and it said "You are going to die." My head shot up and I looked around as if someone had spoken to me. I grabbed my chest as the fear set in from those words. These words I wholeheartedly believed. 

Walking back into my specialist after more medical procedures, I was told I had a stomach condition. One that was commonly caused by an overuse of a specific over-the-counter drug. My heart sank as I realized I abused this drug as a teen to try and get some relief from my overwhelmed mind. At the end of this appointment I joked that hopefully, that stomach condition would be the reason for the pain in my side. My doctor looked at me and said nothing. She informed me she would be ordering an ultrasound and to come back the following week. My fear shook me to my core as I lay on that table. The technicians looked at my scan and said nothing, but I knew they found something. It was like a record was playing on repeat in my head "I'm going to die" as I waited for results. The results came in and I was sent in for a hospital scan I had never heard of before. The next thing I knew I was in a nuclear medicine wing of a hospital, climbing into a weird machine. After that scan, it was revealed my gallbladder was functioning at 16% and was full of polyps and extremely inflamed. It had been 6 months of constant throwing up, sickness, and long nights and I finally had answers.

Meeting with the surgeon I had to make the decision to go in for surgery, I knew it was the right call. a few weeks later I was in for surgery and I thought that getting there was the hard part. But no, waking up was the worst of the worst. I had a poor reaction to the anesthesia and my body wasn't getting enough oxygen. I remember struggling to stay awake as nurses kept pushing medicine and oxygen. I remember calling out to God to please help me. I was so angry at God, I yelled at Him all year blaming Him for my struggles. But in that moment, He was all I could call upon. I have never felt closer to death in that moment and I knew from that moment my life was about to change. 

Recovery was a mental battle with God. I chose no painkillers, as I knew my body would become hooked like it once did on a different medication. I knew this was about to be a battle I couldn't win on my own. Luckily I had the best people surrounding me, my husband and best friends were cheering me on. By day 3 I was probably being a little too confident as I walked and tried to run around. I was a new person, the burden of dying was off my chest. Looking back I know that my gallbladder could have ended up killing me. But I think the holy spirit was talking about my old self dying. I made peace with my past, I didn't have the best childhood but I did have God. I made peace with the fact that I will never be in control of my future. And I went all in on Christ.

He has blessed me with a booming community of people, wonderful kids I get to mentor, and a church that values my husband and I. The little kid inside of me still hurts from time to time but those feelings are slowly fading each time I open my Bible. I am not perfect, I am a mess. But God is pretty good at cleaning up messes and making things new. My story is a redemption story. I was just a kid who didn't want to be alone, so I found God. When you release control to God He can do extraordinary things. 

I know my story is long from over, I hope anyway. God has taught me peace, patience, love, kindness, and forgiveness. I believe God allowed me to walk through such difficult things to condition me into the person I am today. Or for my testimony to resonate with others who are in or were in similar situations as me. God took a self-conscious, depressive, angry kid and turned me into something new. He can do that for you too. God loves you, He wants you, He cares for you. 

And my only goal for Doodle Noggin is for you to see God's love for you. 

And as always, get out there and be creative.

From your friend, Kait.