My letter to my friend Heather

Dear Heather,
 One day at a time. That's what I'm taking it as. One little teeny, tiny day at a time. Do you rememeber when I lived there in Kansas City and David and Mark were just babies? It was SO HARD for me everyday that I remember telling you that I was taking it crisis by crisis. They were so difficult as babies and I was so all alone then too like I am still (like you are now) because Mark was with Ford (Paul works so much overtime). I was falling apart. Almost literaly. I was losing my hair from the stress. I was so depressed that I was ready to walk out the door and never turn around. I even thought about walking to the Paseo Bridge and jumping off. I was at my lowest for sure. It hurst to remeber those days. I can't ever, ever let it get that bad again. If I had the sense to ask for help back then I think so much would have been better. I should have learned to accept help when it was offered back then and maybe I wouldn't have gone through all that misery. I'm still surprised everyday that I survived my children's baby-hood. But well, better late than never, right? I didn't have answers then like I have answers now. I didn't understand why my kids were behaving so horribly. I didn't understand why I was having these thoughts of jumping off a bridge. Had I called out for help, then I would have been helped. I would have found out early that I was depressed and the kids have ADHD and ODD and so do I. Now things are like...I can't explain it.... better.  Things are just better. I actually received a compliment from my sister! The last time she saw me and the kids, it was over Christmas break. She noted that the boys are behaving better, and I seem to be controling my temper better. That's the first time I have ever recieved a compliment like that. Things ARE getting better. We have a family counselor coming three days a week. I have been following through with disipline, and I have been holding the boys' behaviour to a higher standard. I have everybody on their proper medications with regular visits to our psychiatrist. All this is working because I finaly got smart and cried Uncle. I realized that I just can't handle this circle of insanity anymore. I am sick and tired of watching other people's children behaving  and thinking, "why have I never, ever had that? What am I doing wrong?" Now I have answers. Now I have help. Now that I see how wonderful it can be to ask for help, I'm never turning back.  But honestly, I still have a long way to go. I asked for help with my children first because that was what was on fire first. My family was on fire. It had to be saved first. Now that I have my children protected and safe, it's time to turn my attention to the other aspects of my life. What else is on fire? Me? My friendships? My social life? The way I handle other people's obligations as if they were my own? Yep. That sounds like a good a place to start. Asking for help saved my life. It saved my family. It's still saving us. All I can say is, do the right thing. Asking is hard, I KNOW. But just do it. Even it starts off small. Like accepting rides in the morning for Nathan. I love you so much, Heather. You really are a great mother. It really does get better. I promise.
Jayme
P.S. I like your idea of burning letters and wishes in my sink. I like mom's idea too. Each idea seems to go by the same principal. Asking for help and sending it to God. That seems to be the main theme here, and it's something I am going to try....heck... today! I have a list as long as my arm. I hope I don't overwhem God with all my problems. As if overwhelming God were even a possibility. But seriously, it's a long list.