My life means more...

3,392 days. That's how many days it took.
3,393 days ago I tried to commit suicide.  3,393 days ago I took a handful of pills and fell asleep.  3,393 days ago I hurt my family.  3,393 days ago I swore I would never do this again. 
39 hours.  39 hours ago,  I was in the back seat of a car being rushed to the hospital...
39 hours ago I stopped after swallowing three handfuls of pills and realized I didn't want to die...
39 hours ago I cried because every mistake is made stared me in my face and I actually allowed myself to think my family was not worth pain.  Getting help.  The repercussions of my actions. 
39 hours ago I thought everyone would be better off without me...
I was placed in the ICU... I was watched like a hawk.. I was placed under 24/7 watch....
I had blood tests on the hour, and ivs hooked up had shot after shot in my stomach... I swallowed charcoal... charcoal meant to make me vomit... and I fell asleep... I woke up to an angry husband, trying to hold it together. Three children who were missing out... and parents looking at me trying to understand why.... I wish I could explain why...
Tonight I'm in a room with a camera... I can't even go pee without the bathroom door open and supervision... I have paper trash bags, and can't wear my own clothes...
Tomorrow... I go to psychiatric facility. I will be monitored and go through alot of therapy... I'm told it will be the best for me. I'm told I do not have an option.
I will go with an open mind that things will be better. This is a step that unfortunately I have to take. I have to do it for me. I have to do it for my marriage. I have to do it for my kids.
I will beat this. I will bounce back... just please pray for me... but more so... pray for my husband... for his peace and strength in this moment. For my children.... that they know I love them....

I shared those words a short 3 weeks ago. It feels like months...
I have had to learn and grow. I've had to make changes to better myself. Better my mind.

I was an intense drinker when I was in my late teens. My world revolved around alcohol and caffeine pills. I didn't do much without drinking. I had struggled for many years with depression and drinking made me forget my problems and made everything more fun... so I told myself. Didn't matter what mistakes I made while drinking or the relationships I harmed with my drinking. When I was 19 I had my first go round trying to commit suicide. I felt that everyone was hurt by me and frankly that I ruined anything and anyone around me. Unfortunately the day I made that decision I was highly intoxicated. Thankfully I lived.
When my parents moved me to Oklahoma from my home town in Iowa my drinking had lessened and things seemed to get better.
A few short weeks after I met my husband I made the stupid decision to go out and drink. I drank. And drank. And didn't have much memory the next day of what had gone on. Thankfully I had found a man that loved me through it.
On December 31st, 2009 I was angry about something and picked up a beer. As I went to lift it to my mouth I realized my problem. I always drank to distract myself... I always drank when I was angry... I walked to the sink and poured it out.
I realized, I was in fact an alcoholic. I decided I was not going to drink any more.
I went years without touching a drop. I got married... Had a couple kids... the first time I drank my second son was about a year old and I got one drink in and my arms throbbed. I couldn't drink without a burning sensation shooting through my arms. So I really didn't drink.
I had one night in 2014 that I got pretty drunk and had to be embarrassed the next day when I reminded myself again, why I didn't drink.

So when July of 2016 rolled around my life got all kinds of twisted. I craved alcohol daily. If a bottle of wine was in my fridge I'd have to fight myself not to touch it.
When we lost our house in July I unfortunately lost my mind. I had been struggling with depression for over a year but due to our financial situation I didn't feel like I could tell my husband.
I told myself, we can't afford a doctor... we can't afford for me to take meds... we can't afford for me to go to counseling...
I started drinking.
At one of my best friends wedding which I was in I stood up to do my speech and I was intoxicated and had to focus to not slur.
When my husband and I would fight I'd open a bottle.
When I went out for a girls night, everyone else was sober and Emily was the drunk.
I knew I was spiraling out of control but didn't feel like I could slow it down. Didn't feel like I could tell anyone. I was fighting a war by myself and losing...

The night before my daughters 1st birthday party... three of my friends and I were setting up decorations and making the cake. More they were and I of course was drinking.... I was officially out of control... I played off sober and drove home... something I thank God everyday didn't end someone else's life..

I called my husband in a complete loss of everything and ended up on my bedroom floor.... in tears... so tired.
I took a bunch of pills and locked myself in the bathroom... at that moment I thought of my children. My beautiful boys and gorgeous girl and I hated myself more... who was I to take myself away from them?! They didn't know this me that I fought they knew the me that they love and is always there!
I panicked and thankfully my husband and a friend of mine got me to the hospital in time...

It's been a long road.. full of a lot of tears, anger and pain... I learned I can't fight alone. I've learned I can't be embarrassed.

I've quit drinking. My husband poured out every drop in the house. He graciously quit drinking with me.
I take my meds, the way I'm suppose to.
When I'm having a bad day, I talk about it and usually cry.

I've stopped holding in my pain.
I've stopped fighting alone.

I realize I need support to battle my demons and I'm proud of myself that I'm brave enough to admit it.

I don't love myself yet... But everyday I feel a little bit closer... I feel a little more worth fighting for...
I have a better relationship with my husband and kids than I've had in a long time...

I share all of this with hopes that just one person finds solace in this. One person turns and says, I need help...
Nobody needs to fight alone...

I don't know you, but I will fight with you.
Because we are worth it...

Time crept up on me...

Days like today hurt...
The days I look at my baby girl,  4 days from turning one and giving myself the silent reminder that she is my last baby.
Days that I look at my boys and realize at 4 and 5 that they have developed an independence in so many things that I feel a little less needed.
Days that I feel like life is passing by just a bit to fast.
These are the days that I think back on being a kid and having my parents tell me to stop wanting to grow up so fast because one day I won't be able to slow it down, and to believe them that I'd want to.
They warned me.
I have had to have the discussion with my boys when they have said to me "mom I'm not your baby, I'm a kid" and explain to them that they will in fact always be my babies... even when they are 28 like me.
I look back on my life and think of the times I couldn't wait to be grown and make my own decisions. How I felt time move so slowly.
Now I'd give back every moment of begging for it to speed up just to have it slow down.
One day my children will look at me and be wishing the exact same thing... and I will repeat the line my mother told me...
Stop trying to grow up so fast because one day you won't be able to slow it down even if you want to...
Right now I'll hold on tight... because I don't ever want them to let go...
But I'll watch them change into amazing individuals, and teach them to succeed. They will be great. They will surprise even me, their biggest fan with their abilities.
But for now... I'll keep begging time to just slow down...

A letter to 16 year old me...

Girl,
I have to sit here and write this down. All of the things, I really need you to know.
I see you feeling insecure and self conscious I see you doing things out of your character. I know you want them to like you but if they don't like the bubbly, off set, weird girl that I know, then they're not worth knowing.
If they don't love the fact that you are endlessly naive, sickeningly sweet and that you dance at the most ridiculous times then they aren't worth loving in the first place.
If you have to pretend to be someone you aren't to get those people to like you, then the ones out there who are just like you will never find you...
I know you feel like you really need that boy to like you. But what you need is to just slow down. You're only going to be this young once and one day you will miss it.
Sweetheart, your heart is going to get broken... actually a couple of times. Don't grab on to that wrong one and expect that you'll change him. He shouldn't want you to change, so don't expect it from him.
Just take your time...
Don't go and get yourself involved in the wrong things. It's not going to make things better, it's only going to make things worse. Later on I promise you will live with alot of regret.
Focus on your family and friendships, they are the only important things to focus on in your life right now.
Spend time with that best friend of yours. One day he won't be there. I know that you don't believe that now.. you're probably sitting there laughing at this. I know you feel inseparable but he's hurting more than he let's on.  I hate the day that hits you... you will never forget that day. It will live with you forever.
Don't put those babies down, soon enough they won't want to be held dear, those boys will tear the castle down :). Seriously don't try it get that child to walk to early... he'll just start running...
Don't ever hide your feelings girl, I know you feel so much.. long ago you found yourself and your people found you. They don't care if you are endlessly naive, sickeningly sweet or that you dance at the most ridiculous times... they don't care that you cry at sloppy movies, that you love uncontrollably,  or that sometimes you lose control. They will be there to scoop you up even when you don't realize you've fallen and they will hold you while you cry.
Your people love you for you. Take away everything else and that in itself is enough.

Bully stay away from me...

Depression is a very real problem in our society. It can be intimidating to people and change you day by day as the person going through it.
We have young children only 4 years older than my son taking the permanent leap to end the confusing feelings within them and to run from painful words spoken to them from people who simply do not understand.
Children live daily in a world where they feel anxiety the moment they wake up that they will not be good enough... that they will be picked on, walked away from and pushed around.
My boys are in school, pre-k and kindergarten. They are what is supposed to be a blissful age of curiosity and adventure. They are supposed to find friends in everyone. Because of course children unlike adults know no race, religion, gender or orientation.
This is the time of their lives for them to soar and be molded into the kind, confident and strong young citizens our world needs.
Unfortunately I have seen what the world does to our children... I am a mother of a victim of bullying...
Last year my oldest son was in pre-k and had never been more excited to start an adventure. His second day of school he told me as we pulled up in front of the school that I needed to stay in the car cause he wanted to walk in by himself.
My son was confident and proud. I cried. :)
The second week of school I witnessed bullying happening to some small children by the older children. I opened my mouth and was even bullied myself. Me a grown woman, a mother was bullied by a 5th grader who seemingly felt his sole purpose was to belittle those around him... that was a different feeling for me. I had a conversation with the principal and felt confident that I was the best mom ever and I stood up and took care of the situation and just like that my son was safe.
Fool me....
About a month later I get a call from my mother... my parents were keeping my boys overnight. When she called I thought it was a normal goodnight call I get from my kids every time they spend the night at my folks house. Boy was I wrong. My mom called me to discuss a conversation her and my 4 year old had just had. My 4 year old had opened up a expressed to his grandmother that there were boys on the playground that punched him every day at school. And every day he let them and never told a soul...
When she put my son on the phone and I asked him why he hadn't told me, he started crying... I told him he needed to tell his teacher any time someone put hands on him and to stay away from those boys. His reply broke my entire being into a million pieces...
"I'm sorry mommy... but I have to have somebody to play with. They won't play with me if I don't let them!"
Oh my heart.
This beautiful, sensitive, intelligent, loving little boy had lost his confidence. 
I hadn't noticed. 
I hadn't asked.
Being the mommy again that I am I went to the school demanded a meeting with the principal and made it clear to the receptionist my son would not be attending class until I got my meeting. 
I got my meeting.
I fixed it!
Or so I thought...
From that point on we had some difficulties at home. He had more temper tantrums, more anger,  more tears...
What was happening to my son?...
Then I got a horrible understanding one day as I arrived early to the school and the kids were still outside...
There was group of kids all playing together laughing.. running..
And then there was my son... all alone digging in the dirt...
"I'm sorry mommy... but I have to have somebody to play with!"
Those words... those sad, confused words...
My little boy had these kids at age 4 who either had to punch you to be included or you had to be all alone...
My little social butterfly.... with no ability to be social...
It's been a year, he's at a new school,  has friends,  but he still cries if he has a bruise on his face thinking kids will laugh at him... my child still worries everyday that someone won't like him...
We as a society are unintentionally failing our children....
Phrases being thrown around even in jest we are showing or children is ok to say because it's funny... I'm even to blame for that...
"Boys will be boys"
"Fight like a man"
"You idiot"
"Your retarded"
"You punk"
Verbal, emotional, physical... any type of bullying... hurts...
We have since talked about the importance of all of this. I have drilled that nobody touches him in a way that makes him hurt, or uncomfortable.  I have pushed that if anyone does he goes to an adult. I have also educated that we never want to hurt anyone the way he was hurt and that if we ever saw someone being treated badly we don't just stand there and turn away. We tell an adult.
As parents we need to instill in our children that it's not embarrassing to tell someone if someone is mean to you. That it doesn't make them a cry baby. It makes them human. Little humans who hurt...
Encourage your child to be one of the children who sticks up for those bullied. Child suicide has to stop and it's our turn to bring up children who change the world.

I'm hanging on

I can't say this post will be uplifting.  I can't say it will bring you joy or make you laugh.  Honestly? As I sit here writing I don't really know myself where it is going. 
For the first time since I've been writing this blog it will actually breathe into post of its title.  Depressed. 
As most know from previous posts our lives turned upside down last year with Daniel's injury.  We lost two cars,  had utilities shut off countless times, got notice we were losing our home to forclosure,  began having pay garnished for medical bills and just couldn't catch back up.
Now for anybody who really knows me they know I am sickeningly optimistic. It is a rare occasion that I allow life to put me into a slump. No matter the situation I have always been that person who strongly believes and strongly encourages "don't , it'll be fine.  It can't get any worse. "
Now if only you could have been that fly on the wall the last year and a half and seen how every time I spoke those words I learned... yeah it really can....
After our tax return was garnished this spring and we gotten that letter saying sorry guys your house is about to be ours  (speaking for the bank) we had recieved a letter from a government agency that helps bail family's out of trouble with their mortgage by helping them get a mortgage  modification.  Which is taking what you owe and adding it to the end. Well after doing some research we saw it was a legit company and called immediately.  We were determined to keep our kids grounded with what they know as long as we are in Oklahoma.  all it took was 4 months of $900 payments.
So for 4 months even while Daniel was out of work we scraped together $900 to send this company to save our house. Finally after the 4th and final payment... I breathed. I had succeeded in providing what I had been sure was the impossible. I finally felt safe in my own skin as a working wife and mother.
Have you ever heard the saying everything good must come to an end?
Well. It did.
Now I'm not saying EVERY single thing does. I don't think I'm quite that screwed up yet but with situations over the last year I may be close.
Unfortunately this company is what's called a mirror scam company. They take websites of real companies and they make a mirror image of them but they change a few minor things that most people would not notice in order to scam people. Unfortunately we fell victim to that scam and we lost $3,600 and a period of four months...
Now I would say it's safe to say that anger is not the emotion that I felt. I think that the emotion that I felt was rage cap to its ultimate. Can you tell I don't even know how to describe the emotion that I felt?
So after this happened, I hit a point where for the first time in my entire life optimism held no place in my heart... I can't even say that pessimism is what held its place because I don't think the pessimism could show its face from behind the rage that I felt, the pain that I felt, the disappointment, the outrage and honestly the feeling of violation that I felt.
Here my husband myself and our three children had been to hell and back in the last 18 months, and because of one shred of hope, we thought there was finally an end to the tunnel of Darkness. But then there were these people that probably slept in nice houses were able to feed their children were able to make sure their children had new shoes when they needed them, were able to feed their children more than peanut butter or jelly sandwiches and ramen noodles. Who were able to take their children on vacations, who were able to buy their children their favorite toy... THOSE people could sleep at night after they did what they did and knowing every aspect of the story of what our family has gone through.
Honestly for the first time in my life I would have had no problem seeing those people in a vulnerable position with a gun being held to their head and turning around and walking away.
Now I don't know if this makes me a normal person and I don't know if this makes me an awful person but what I do know is this that they robbed me of the one thing that no matter what I felt like I would always have... my faith that everything will always be ok, my faith that everything would always work its way out that no matter what happened there was always a way to make it through it. They robbed me of my joy they robbed me of my sanity.
The breakdown that I had that day and the breakdowns that I've had almost daily since have been something that I am completely unable to grab onto they are completely foreign to me. I am not used to being an angry person I am not used to being a person that looks at everyone that I see on the street in immediate distrust... but I do that now.
We got the letter last week that we had to get out of our home that was how we found out we were scammed and here we lost $3,600 and now we had to find a new home.
My children were about to start school, I just started a new job a mile down the road and now we have to find a new home...
I didn't WANT to find a new home. I didn't want to have to get rid of my dogs. I didn't want to tell my children that they would be going to a different school next year I didn't want to feel like I was some form of a disappointment because after all, all I could think of was it was my idea.
The day after we moved into our new home we went outside to go to church my husband opened the car door and saw that someone had broken into it... for the first time in my entire existence I understood the term hyperventilation where the anxiety boils up inside of your chest so strong that you can't even will yourself to take a breath.
I remember the night before telling my husband as I was broken and crying and he said it'll get better it can't get any worse it's only up from here. And I had looked at him and said do NOT promise me that! Everytime we say that something else goes wrong!
But again he promised and that day whenever we were looking in our car where someone again had made me feel violated... the anger I felt towards my husband was astronomical. All I did was yell at him through my tears
"I told you not to promise me! I told you something else could go wrong!"
I told him I was angry I told him that I had feelings in my chest and that I had emotions that I didn't know how to handle and I told him that for the most part I just wanted to give up.
I told him there are days that I am in the car by myself and I look at the highway in front of me and I have thought to myself what it would be like to just keep going...
I'm told that I'm a mom and I'm not allowed to feel the way that I feel because I have 3 lives that count on me. But I'm also a human and there's also only so much that a human can take and although I'm at my wit's end I get up every morning, I go to work, I come home, I spend time with my babies, I get my husband up, take him to work same routine starts again the very next morning...
I do not ignore my children. I do not regret my children. I'm human and I'm tired and I'm broken.
There are days that I want to stay in bed because I don't want to give life a chance to knock me down another Peg. There are days that I don't want to talk to people because I don't want to hear their opinion on what I'm supposed to do or how I'm supposed to feel.
I'm going to feel the way I'm going to feel and nobody is allowed to tell me when I'm going to feel because right now I don't even know how to decipher the emotions inside of myself.
I don't know what to say to my three-year-old when he looks at me and says Mommy I miss our old house breaks my heart into a thousand pieces it makes me feel like I failed it makes me feel like there's no greater purpose and then all we're going to do for the rest of our existence his fight to live.
I'm hanging on by a thread but by God I am hanging on and tomorrow morning I will get up I will put my clothes on I will get my children in the car I will go to work I will go home I will spend time with my babies I will wake my husband up and take him to work. And I will live another day... just hanging on...

Bring back love

I have sat and watched over the last 24 hours social media explode with hateful words racial slurs and people who have been friends for years sever a friendship over a difference of opinion. 
I have seen articles of men dying when they have done no wrong because of an incident that happened halfway across the nation.
I have seen innocent police officers paying the price for one that had done something unruly, uncalled for.
I have seen people fight over the fact that they deserve it because the man that was shot first DIDN'T deserve it.
I have seen the negativity of police officers and men and women of color and not all over be shared.
But what I haven't seen is the fact that no matter what the race no matter what the religion everyone realize that we are human.
I don't see people weeping for the families that have loved ones lost I don't see understanding and compassion being poured out to them I see words of they deserved it..  they got what's coming to them.
I hate that I am raising my children in a world where humanity is so rare.
I hate that I'm raising my children and a place where even police officers who have done nothing wrong are something to be feared, because the population has made every single one of them lumped as something to be feared.
I hate that my children are being raised in a place where they are forced to notice the color of a man's skin. My children see friends no matter the color.
I hate that my children have to grow up in a world where they have to feel like they're a bad person because they're white, my children were fearfully and wonderfully made and they have no reason to ever feel guilty or feel shame for the color of their skin.
I hate that they are growing up in a world where they have to fear to become a police officer and they have to feel guilty for not being black.
I hate that there are black children all across this nation that had to feel the same turmoil because their skin is not white, they were not created  to have a skin color that shows that they are bad or they are evil. They are assumed they will automatically will rob a bank, shoot a man, kill a child and I hate the injustice tossed upon these innocent children. they are just as fearfully and wonderfully made and beautiful the SAME as my children. they should not on first glance be judged because of a population that is wrong 
I have met just as many  bad black people and bad white people THOSE people should be grouped together not the whites with the bad whites and the blacks with the bad blacks there are many amazing, good African American men and women in this world and there are many amazing, good white people in this world  THOSE people should be grouped together
It should not have to be where I am group together with a population  that looks at people with darker skin color and ridicules them because, I. do. not.
The African American man living next door to should not be grouped in with the group of people that ridicule and shame white people  because they automatically assume that we view them as a lesser person because he. Is. not. 
Myself and him should be grouped together as a population that loves people and that doesn't care  whether or not your skin is light or dark. 
I have met many amazing police officers, yes I've met a few that are not so nice. I realize that they are out there  but the amazing police officers that I have encountered should not have to be grouped in with the ones that are not so nice and they should not have to be killed for doing their job all because of the fact that everyone is angry over the actions of the police officer that did something wrong.
That is not Humanity that is fear, that is anger, and I hate that is the world that we live in.
I want to bring back Humanity  I want to bring back love we are all human we all love the same way we all feel pain, have fear and bleed the same color.
We all nurture our children and want them to grow up for greatness, so why can't we be the people that teach them to be great.
Love one another.
I want my boys to love for your spirit, soul and heart.
Not for the color of your skin or your occupation.
Bring back Humanity.
Bring back love.

It was the last night for forever....

I come here today to talk about something dear to me and now hard on my heart. 
I have always been a nursing mother.  I came from a breastfeeding family and married into one.
So needless to say I saw no other options for myself.
When my first child was born,  he was 4 weeks early and in the nicu. Labor had been long and ended with a c section and myself highly drugged. With him being so far from me while I was confined to my bed with high blood pressure the nurses confused the situation and fed him formula.  I was unable to nurse my newborn till day 5. My milk finally dropped.  Unfortunately from that point on breastfeeding was an extremely painful process... but dear lord I was determined.  The first 2 months I would bring myself to the point of tears,  bleeding and holding my breath while nursing just to feed my baby.  By the 7th month of Kyden's life while pregnant with his little brother he decided he didn't want to do it any more.  This of course broke my heart but I was ok. I had 7 months to go before I had another baby to nurse and my lord I needed the rest before that. 
When my second son was born I had learned my lesson.  I got him the moment he was born,  nursed him. Wow it was a new feeling.  He could still be trained and so could I! Parker was a very aggressive eater but even with that it was a million times less painful than it had been with his brother. He nursed for 1 year exactly.  On the night of his first birthday I went to nurse him and he turned me down.  He was done.
It was a bit harder than with his brother because I wasn't expecting at the time so I cried... but knowing I was planning on physically having one more I got over it pretty well.
February of last year when we found out I was pregnant with Kassalynn, one of the very first things I did was get my pump out.  Nursing momma was back!
Well when Daniel got hurt and couldn't work times got a little stressful. Then I had a complicated pregnancy, totalled my car, couldn't work and couldn't drive and it got about 1000 times more complicated.
Many of you know that Daniel and I have already had long conversations about wanting to adopt a child when Kass was 5 or 6. So we were planning on stopping after her anyway. But what many don't know is that I in fact made sure of it... I had a tubal ligation following my c section. It didn't hit me even a little that I couldn't have another baby till Kass was about 5 months old.  But even then it wasn't extreme.  It didn't hit me like a mac truck till this morning. And I'll tell you why...
At Kass' 3 month appointment which was almost 4 months since she had rsv. She was way way to tiny.  She fell in the second percentile for her weight.  At only 11 lbs. The doctor looked at me and said "she's starving".
As a food source you feel like a failure.  As a mother I can't even place into words what I felt.  I felt unable to care for my child,  I felt negligent that I didn't know she was starving and felt abusive that I was starving her.  So we began supplementing with formula. 2 to 3 bottles a day.  But she still wasn't gaining like she should.
Last week I worked a LOT of hours so I wasn't home much which forced Daniel to give her formula every feeding. All the sudden my child starts getting SO heavy.  She developed rolls and stated having more energy and moving around and the doctor says "she's up to the 5th!"
Now for the Mac truck... remember that determined word? Well I was determined to at least nurse kass before bed. And this morning when I woke up in realized, I hadn't nursed her since two nights ago and my whole world crumbled on my head... I'm done. She's done. Night before last was the last night I would ever again nurse one of my children. And I feel like I missed it...
But as much as I came to the revelation that fed is best not breast is best I came to this revelation as well...
I had always been a nursing mother.  I had always been a stay at home mother.  Now I'm a working mother. And though many mothers are more than able to be both I had never had the experience just like I'd never experienced nursing before my first child. I haven't failed because I did the best I could. I may feel sad and might still feel a tad guilty but I did well.
I will miss those moments I already do. I will most likely cry some tears. I already do.
But no matter how short or how long I did it, no matter how much I supplemented. I did my best and I am still doing my best. Because my child's health is more important than my desires for just a little longer.
Today I hurt. But today I am proud.