There are often times i question my ability to parent my children. There are often moments of make believe happiness. Where i smile and i laugh but inside i am coming unglued, i hate those moments. I go to bed and pray for change, for God to help me become the mother i so desperately want to be. There were days of glorious hypo-mania, on those days the kids beamed with joy as i chased them around the house or if the season fit we would enjoy the hose outside, i would be funny and nice and yearn for more of those days. But those days became less and less and the monster my un-diagnosed disorder was creating seemed to fill my house with yelling and screaming. The depression would follow and as time went on i pondered the reason behind my existence. I didn’t want to live but i didn’t want to die. I decided that if i truly wanted something different for my babies than i needed to do everything in my power to give it to them, because i am a mom before anything else. My mental Illness does not come before my children, my depression does not come before my children. As i move fourth into my recovery i see things with such clarity, being a good mom was always my number one goal. Coming from neglect and abandonment i knew what i didn’t want to do and i am fighting to teach them to fight. To show them nothing is too hard to do and we can get through anything, together as a family. These girls give me strength and courage to get through each day, the good ones and the bad ones. I choose to live, I choose recovery. No matter what it takes i will fight and i will conquer i have three little girls watching me and i refuse to let them down.