Anxiety is a bitch! My heart races, I get really nervous, I stutter and feel twitchy. It’s like chugging way too much coffee and having to sit still. It’s horrible, I can’t breathe, my head feels cloudy and confused. I try deep breaths, I try counting, I try to hide for a few minutes to try to focus on the moment, to try to stay grounded. Sometimes I’m successful and can go back to my day, other times it takes a little longer. Sometimes I need to leave where I’m at ASAP and get in my car and get home! I’m safe at home. I used to hear people talk all the time about their anxiety and I always thought they were full of shit! Nope this shits real! It’s a horrible feeling, a loss of control, a loss on my grip on reality.

How scary is it to be fine one second, then BOOM, your world’s caving in around you, feels like forever, even if it’s only a few minutes sometimes. I haven’t figured out what triggers it yet, it’s usually completely random, but I do know I can attempt to control it and not let it completely control me.

I’ve noticed lately my kids keep me centered. When they’re with me I don’t get nervous while driving, I don’t get scared in stores and have to leave with out my stuff. I can focus on them and taking care of them and my crazy thoughts and feelings go away. Maybe that’s why I feel safe at home, they’re here, Danny’s here, my safe place is here. The chaos of our home is safe to me. I walk in the door and all the feelings of the day fade away.

Where do I begin!?? My life changed the day you were born, and again forever, the day you died. Delaney was born on December 7, 2007. She was an easy, fast delivery, never really cried from what I remember, an all around beautiful little soul. I don’t remember things 100%, it’s all a little foggy. I was in the midst of my alcoholism when I was blessed with those few months with her.

I was addicted to pain pills when I found out that I was pregnant with her and went to my first rehab so I could assure she was healthy and safe. I slowly started back to my old ways the minute she was born and I can say I am forever grateful I was semi-conscious those few months with her. I know that probably sounds horrible to some of you but anyone who has dealt with addiction knows the drill. Nothing else matters. I regret a lot from those few months, all the woulda, shoulda, coulda’s. I have learned in my sobriety though not to beat my self up over that stuff and I am grateful today for those few months with her.

April 3, 2008 is the day my life changed forever. It started out like any other day, not that I actually remember, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. I went to dinner and had a few drinks (that means a lot probably) and came home around midnight. Delaney’s crib was in my room, she woke up, I put her in bed with me, we went back to sleep, and when I woke up, she was a horrible grayish-blue color. My mom called 911 (of course I lived with my parents) and the ambulance came and off the ER we went. I don’t even remember if I rode in the ambulance it’s all such a blur. I do remember at the hospital the cops telling me I smelled like alcohol and them taking my blood, and questioning me.

They life flighted her to another hospital and I do remember I couldn’t go in the helicopter because I smelled like alcohol. When I got to the hospital we waited a few hours and finally the doctors told us they had a heart beat but she would be brain dead, and on machines her whole life, her body was failing. I made a decision that day to end my daughters life. I was able to hold her and bathe her one last time while she died in my arms. I held her and sang to her for hours. I remember her getting heavy and my dad taking her from me telling me it was time to say goodbye. I Remember I lost it that day, in every sense of the word, I lost it. I left that hospital with out my daughter and gained an excuse.

The next few weeks were a blur, I was so high at her funeral, it was absolutely disgusting and disrespectful. I think God kept a lot of that pain from me, as fucked up as it is, I was high, I didn’t have to deal with the pain like everyone else in my family did. It was 4 years before I’d deal with the loss of her. I bottled it up, and drank and used anything and everything I could to not feel. I was numb 100% of the time.

Those are my memories of my daughter, not the smiles and giggles and little firsts, her death is what I think of mostly. Delaney died from SIDS on April 3, 2008 and I will never be the same because of it.

Now is any of this the reason I’m an alcoholic or wound up in a few rehabs or jails?? Absolutely not!!! Is it a contributing factor? Possibly!? I don’t know, nor do I care, it’s just part of my story. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and everything I’ve ever gone through is what’s made me who I am today. I really have no Idea why I’m sharing all this. I do know though, now at 6 years sober, I’ve come to terms with her death. Of course I miss her and some days are harder than others. I have since made amends at her grave for being a bag of shit while she was alive. I also get to make living amends daily by being the best sober mom I can to her three brothers. I know my lil girl is proud of her mom and is always watching over me!

Ohhhhhhh myyyyyy lord where do they come from!? How can someone so freaking small be so full of energy and rage at all times!? Am I the only one who thinks their kid pretty much hates them!? I seriously question my abilities as a mother on a daily basis with this one. It blows my mind too because he’s the one I stayed home from work with and was a stay at home mom, the other two I was back to work in like three weeks!

Anyways here’s a little glimpse into my world. My 4 year old is the absolute most amazing little thing ever, he’s smart, too smart for his own good, he’s got beautiful red hair, and big brown eyes …just like his mama. He’s like a little old man trapped in a toddler body, an old soul. He makes the funniest faces, has an amazing personality and tells silly jokes. He loves to cook and is very independent. He goes to pre school 5 days a week and has a bunch of little friends. He’s extremely outgoing and loves to play hide and seek.

I know I say He’s my difficult one, but I also know it’s because we’re so much alike. He’s stubborn, bullheaded and used to getting his way, also just like his mama. He’s not so good with listening, following rules, wants what he wants when he wants it……also just like his mama. I know it’s me and take full responsibility for the melt downs and “mean” moments because he’s just like me! He’s me, trapped in my beautiful, redheaded, little man.