Post Natal Depression ... life after darkness.

I have tried to write this post many times over the last 16 years or so. Its a post that is difficult to write for so many reasons and I still don't know if I will get to the end today.

We tried for my first son for 3 years before I fell pregnant. I remember saying to my husband that I was meant to be a mum... that life without children was no life. When I did fall pregnant we were ecstatic and I was lucky to have an easy 9 months. I think the problems started when I was taken in to hospital to be induced - early as they thought I was carrying a huge baby. They were wrong - he was 7lb 12. I ended up having an emergency cesarean, spending Christmas in a hospital that looked like a Bosnian refugee camp, complete with peeling paint and ghastly food - a long way from my vision of the ideal birth and start to life as a mum.

Looking back a lot of the next 4 years, probably, are quite hazy. I look at photos of what appears to be a happy, lovely family and its like seeing someone else. I know that when the photos were taken I was struggling to stay sane.


I remember, and this is the most awful and painful thing to write ... I remember feeling absolutely nothing for my beautiful son. People would hold him and tell me what a beautiful boy he was. I would look at him and feel emptiness. I went through the motions of what I though motherhood should be. And I hated it it.

I resented this small screaming bundle of sick and poo who had come into my life and ruined it. I was no longer a person respected in my job, no longer an attractive woman ... I was 5 stone overweight with a jelly like tummy, scarred and ugly. I felt filled with hatred and anger. I remember thinking that I understood why women killed their children. I hated everything and everyone, but mostly I hated my baby for what he had done to my life.To me he was a parasite, draining me of my life blood. And yes ... I felt, I feel shame for letting that emotion take over my life.

I hid this well.On the outside I showed all the right signs of being a good mum. We even decided to have another baby and were amazed when I fell pregnant the very first month. When my second son was born things were completely different,far better, but it didn't take long for the demons to take over again.

I am rather skimming over the precise details of what happened, partly because they are hard to remember. I did have good days, but, looking back, I see that I was out of control, spiraling towards a breakdown. One day I broke. I remember having been sleep deprived with 2 boys under the age of 2 and I just could take no more. My life was spent in tears, spent consumed with rage and one morning I reached my tipping point. I took the boys to a friend and as snot and tears rained down my face I begged her to look after them while I went to get help.

I remember standing in my GP's surgery sobbing. "I need help" I cried to the receptionist and, thank God, they gave me that help. My doctor understood. My facade of make up and middle class stiff upper lip crumbled to dust infront of her as I sobbed and wailed and keened. I didn't care any more. I couldn't pretend any more. I hated being a mother. I hated my life. I was angry with everyone, but especially my children. I was angry at me for being such a complete and utter failure. After all... wasn't I the one who had smugly said that "life without children was no life"?

My doctor told me that I was not a failure. She told me that I was a strong woman and that coming to her that morning for help was one of the bravest things a woman could do. She told me that this was not my fault - that this was the chemicals in my body gone haywire and that I would get better.

I was so frightened. I was so ashamed. I was afraid that they would take away my children and I was afraid that my life was over - that I would be forever labelled a "nutter" a mental patient.There was such stigma attached to Post Natal Depression. Women with PND had failed hadn't they? I had failed. I had not managed to cope with the most natural event in a woman's life. I had failed to love my children, failed to be a good wife, failed to be a complete woman.

Asking for help was one of the hardest things I have ever done. But it was the start of recovery. The huge weight that was lifted from me when I admitted how I was feeling was incredible. Looking back I know that this was the start of getting better, but at the time it didn't feel that way. I felt that getting better would be impossible. I could see no future for me.

I haven't mentioned my husband yet in all this, but without him I would not be here. He was truly the most wonderful, kindest, most patient person in my world. Not only did he carry on a full time job, working nights ... he fulfilled my role too. He washed, ironed, cooked ... he played with the children, he gently cared for me. I would sit for hours, staring into space, rocking, unaware that I was doing this, and he somehow knew what to do. My days were spent trying to survive until he came home. He never judged me, never got angry with me. I will never ever forget his kindness, his love.

My doctor prescribed me Prozac. This, to me, was yet another failure, but she told me that a woman with a broken arm would not expect to get better without a plaster cast so how could I get better without all the tools available? I also went to see a therapist. We talked about me, we talked about my life, my children. She told me that I was grieving for the life I had lost and I knew this was true.

Slowly my life began to get better. I began to rebuild myself. My barometer of mental health was my coffee table. If I had the energy to keep it tidy then that was a good day. I built up from having a clear table to having a clear lounge. Gradually, as my mind grew more ordered, the order was reflected in my house and my life.

I began to walk and managed to walk the Race for Life 5k. I was finding time for me in my walking and in that time outside my mind found time to start healing. One day I decided to jog instead of walk and before I knew it I was running the next year's Race for Life. I began to have a purpose in my life and I began to have a little bit of respect for myself again.I went from having never run to doing 5k's, 10's, half marathons and eventually, in 2008 the London Marathon. I wasn't a "good runner" but I didn't give up. I was determined. And I knew that the time spent running was time just for me, time where my mind could be free.

It is 16 years since my son was born. Its probably 14 years since I went to see my doctor for help. It has not been an easy road and there have been times when the darkness has been at my back again, but I have kept on going, kept on fighting. There was a time when everything seemed hopeless to me -  a black nothingness of despair and hatred and misery. I have come through to the other side. I do not see myself as a good mother, but I do see myself as a strong woman who has done her best. I am not ashamed that I suffered Post Natal Depression. I know that it came upon me and I had no choice over the matter. It did not come upon me because I was weak, but because it was just my turn.

You would be amazed how many women go through PND. I am out and proud now! If the topic is discussed then I am not afraid to say that I have been there.

If you are reading this and recognise something of yourself in me, if you are some way along the journey of PND, then I raise my hand to you in respect. You are not alone, even if it feels that way sometimes. And you will get through to the other side. If you have not yet sought help - do it.

Mid Life Crisis Alert

I can't sleep. Yet another bedtime row with my eldest son. He's 14 and I love him, but my God he knows how to press my buttons. Its not as if the row was over anything spectacularly bad, but I end up shouting, then trying to make up, then just getting upset.

And I walk away down the landing to catch a glimpse of myself in my full menopausal glory - a fat, bloated toad.

This does nothing for my self esteem.

So here I am typing away, trying to empty my mind when I should be asleep. I am the only one with the answers to my problems, but I don't have the energy right now to address them. My relationship with my son is fundamentally good and I know that in the morning he will apologise and we will be fine.

My real problem is me. 5 years ago I was training to run the London Marathon. I would look forward to my runs - 4 times a week and a short run was 4 or 5 miles. I'm not saying I was a good runner - far from it - but I was capable of going out and running distances. I was a size 10.

5 years later I am a size 14, getting bigger by the day,  and my exercise has decreased to a leisurely game of football once a week if I'm lucky. I don't eat massively, but I eat more than I burn. And thus I am gradually getting bigger and bigger. Middle age does not help. I know that the answer to this problem is to get up, go out and run or walk ... but I am too bloody lazy.

The thing is I have to do something. I am changing from someone who always felt quite attractive to someone who is overweight, feels heavy and is not at all attractive. Call me shallow, but I quite liked feeling that I looked nice.

And another thing - could as well just spew everything now ... What am I doing with my life?? I have a First Class Honours degree, but am doing nothing with it. My job is enjoyable, but easy to the point of brain mushing. I have applied for volunteer work and am attempting to do something else which will hopefully be challenging and interesting, but at the moment there are no vacancies in my area.

In moments like this I look at my life and think "What a waste ..." I am 48 and could have done so much more. I've never really succeeded at anything. Even my Marathon was pretty pathetic. I might sound like I'm fishing for compliments or feeling very sorry for myself here ( which I probably am) but I just need to get all of this out of my head or I won't sleep. I need to pull myself together and lose weight. I have to get fitter for life.

Tonight I feel old and bloated and ugly. I am also tired. My row with my son has shaken me up and upset me, made me doubt myself. I need to stop, pull myself together and just get on with life. I will be ok, but right now I just need a good cry.

Allotment photos & a plan to stay happy.

Following my last post I have been so touched by the responses I have received. I was very reluctant to write what I did as I don't really want people to know how I am feeling. But your comments have made me feel that I have done the right thing.

So ... knowing that sitting doing nothing is just about the worst thing I can do I have been planning my days like military operations. I felt pretty down yesterday so I lay in bed thinking about today and planned ...

• Get up and have shower.
• Eat breakfast.
• Pot up cucumber seedlings and water tomatoes.
• Go to allotment and plant other cucumber seedlings, brussel sprouts and net them.
• Visit friend at Craft Show to see her glass.
• Come home and make lunch.
• Sort out Year 1 work and stick and mark.
• Write blog.
• Play football.
• Cook dinner.
• Watch football.

I know this might sound a bit OCD but its my way of coping with the day. If I have physical things to do which are also quite creative then I know I feel better. If I have a plan then I tend to stay focussed and not fall into the trap of thinking too much and feeling miserable.

I had a lovely time at my allotment this morning - just me and the breeze. I have taken some photos so you can see how it looks.The crops ( if I can use such farmeresque terms!) are not doing brilliantly this year, but I don't think I am alone in that. Even the farmers around here seem to be struggling with crops that are a bit weedy looking.

my herb bed with rhubarb

2 cucumber plants and sweet corn behind

Brussels Sprouts

from left ... beetroot, lettuce,garlic,spring onions

my work finished for this morning

under the yellow net - purple sprouting broccoli

the first of my autumn fruiting raspberries - they are Autumn Gold and supposed to be yellow!!

nearest to camera - potatoes

getting there - just need more gravel for paths!

I never thought I would be a veg gardener and I look at my allotment with real surprise and pride!! This year I have grown most of my things from seed, which makes me feel like a real gardener!! Its such a lovely place to be alone in a good way. I enjoy making it look neat and tidy and seeing my plants actually grow. Let's hope it can help me get over my down period. Nothing like being outdoors to blow the cobwebs away ...

And the next appointment is ...

I am not sure if I should write this post, and I may well delete it in the near future, but right now I need to write. Over the last few months, since September really, things have been quite difficult both at work and later at home. I don't want to go into details particularly, but the upshot is that I am finding things quite difficult.

At BritMums last week I was tearful and lacking in confidence. It was only when Jan from In Search of ... commented on my blog and said she hoped I had been to my GP for help that I started to think. You may know that I suffered from PND with both my boys and my feelings now are nothing like that. To be honest I feel that my emotions and feelings are normal reactions to the things that have been happening. You get to a stage sometimes when life is just very hard to cope with.

Despite that fact I have started to think that I should talk to someone. I don't know what they will be able to do, but I can't lose anything by talking. Its not that I feel desperate or that I am back in that dark place I visited when the boys were born. But I am totally lacking in any get up and go. It has definitely got up and gone. I cry at the slightest thing, have stopped wearing make up, my house is a mess, my work stuff is disorganised. I find myself staring into space, lost in my thoughts.

At work I try to be my normal chirpy self, but that is beginning to go. At home I just want to do nothing. I look about at all the things that need doing and feel overwhelmed. I can't let myself slip into the darkness because my family needs me right now. I must nip this in the bud. I thought that I could make it to the summer holidays, but I don't know if I can.

And do you know the funny thing? I just called to make an appointment with my GP ... first available appointment .... two weeks. I must make a mental note to plan my breakdowns in future so I can get to see someone helpful before I actually fall off the brink ...

BritMums - why did I cry so much?

So, I'm back from BritMums Live 2012. My arms are aching from carrying my bags of free goodies home and my head is full of things I need to do - like sort out Tweeting from my phone ... what is my password???

Its been a weekend of mixed and quite strong emotions. I managed to get to my hotel, which was dead posh and completely scrumptious. So scrumptious in fact that I had a gorgeous lie in on Saturday morning and completely missed Sarah Brown's keynote speech. How useless am I?

When I got to the Brewery which turned out to be only a 5 minute walk away from my hotel I was blown away. All thoughts of this possibly being some sort of scam where my cash was whisked away to a Cayman Island account disappeared. The place was positively bulging with mostly women bloggers. There was free cake, free coffee, free tea ... you name it, it was there. There were stands giving away free stuff and that was before the speeches even began.

I went along by myself and I had kind of imagined meeting up with like minded bloggers and going out for dinner, maybe a drink, but actually it didn't end up that way. I did say hello to a few people, but to be honest its quite tricky to suddenly become bosom buddies with someone you've only just met. I felt like a bit of an odd bod after a while.

I listened to Ruby Wax's talk on Black Dog Tribe which was excellent. I found it very moving and after the year I have had so far - troubles at work and emotional illness close to home - I found myself with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. This added to the fact that I was on my own was a difficult feeling to cope with. I went and bought Ruby Wax's book which she kindly signed for me and as I tried to tell her how much I enjoyed her talk and though she was doing a really good thing with her web site ( BlackDogTribe.com for people with or caring for those with mental illness ) .... I just couldn't help crying. How gutting. I managed to apologise and walk away as the tears just dripped down my face - you know the ones that come silently as though God just turned on a tap?

I felt so lonely and so out of place. Although I was up for an award, a finalist in the Video Bloggers category, I just couldn't face the presentation ceremony.I sloped back to the hotel and sat in my fluffy dressing gown eating Pringles and crying. Its weird isn't it how you can be surrounded by people but feel so alone.

I planned on missing the second day completely and thought I would go to the Sir John Soane Museum in Lincoln's Inn Field. But I woke up and having had a long steamy shower and a cup of tea I decided to give it one more try. So off I went.

What a different day ... I met a few very very nice people. I chatted to Anna who doesn't yet have a blog, but was just lovely. And then there was the lady from Dublin in the Warner Bros lounge. She was so sweet. Then I had a long long chat with Ruth Myers the graphology lady. I loved talking with her... about art and artists ... and her reading of my character was so accurate. Then I had lunch in the TKMaxx lounge with some lovely ladies who were great to chat to.

My plans to go to the museum faded. I went to GeekMummy's chat on video blogging which was excellent and then onto the talk on Blogging for Happiness. I was sitting on the table with the lady who writes Walking with Angels. She spoke so movingly that again the tears came unbidden. And as Annie Spratt and Kate Davis-Holmes talked I agreed with what they said too. Blogging brings me so much happiness and so much support from people all over the world. My unhappiness and loneliness was the reason I started blogging and  really I am not interested in winning awards or being popular. Although it does make you feel nice to be nominated for such things. I agree with their idea of community and I admired Kate when she said she found being with people difficult. Blogging is a way we can all step out of ourselves and chat openly without fear of being thought stupid or fat or boring. And more than that we can help each other by revealing our deepest fears.

That's why I am writing this post really. Because BritMums Live was difficult at times. I did cry and I did feel lonely. But I also felt uplifted and welcomed and I felt I connected with some of the people. I didn't have the guts to go up to some of the well known bloggers and say hello, but that doesn't really matter does it? Being shy is not a crime.

My plan now is to create some relationships with bloggers so if I go next year I will have people I know to chat to. Maybe I have been too isolated. Maybe I need to be more open and chat to people more, visit more blogs more regularly.

I have learnt a lot this weekend. BritMums Live was well organised and the team had thought of everything. It was amazingly good value and I am glad I went. It has also made me realise how on the edge and emotional I am a lot of the time. I try to hide it, but Friday particularly made me realise how raw a lot of my emotions are and how little confidence I have. I was glad to come home to my Man and my boys, because I love them so much and what's more ... they love me too.

Give a little love ...

Today I came across a quotation from Maya Angelou. It struck a chord with me and made me think about life as it is at the moment ...


“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”   Maya Angelou


I saw Ruby Wax being interviewed on tv about her new website Black Dog Tribe and her words took me back to the time when I was suffering from Post Natal Depression. The Black Dog Tribe website is designed to be a place where people suffering from depression can meet on-line, talk, find help. Ruby is raising awareness of the issue of depression - trying to lift the veil of shame.


I remember the day I finally sought help for my depression and I will never forget my doctor and the way she made me feel. She was so incredibly understanding and somehow had just the right words. She told me that this was the first day of the rest of my life and that far from being the failure I believed myself to be, I was brave - I had shown the courage to seek help and take the first steps towards recovery.


Her kindness and care have left a lasting impression on me. I try to live my life doing the same for other people. I am not a religious person and I do not believe in a god, but I do believe that the least we can do with our lives is to make other people feel good, feel safe and feel loved.


When I was in the depths of misery, drowning in the darkness of depression and overwhelmed with a sense of failure and shame, my husband enveloped me in love. He gently took over, washing, cleaning, cooking ... and never once made me feel guilty. He made me feel so loved. Whatever else happens in our lives I will always remember that love.


I want to be remembered and regarded as the person who gave love and care too. I try very hard to make people feel comfortable and respected when I am with them. I want to be the person who always had a smile, a friendly word, a caring touch. If I could make a difference to someone's life in the way my doctor or my husband made a difference to me it would make everything worthwhile.


The funny thing is that by giving in that way you actually get so much from other people. 


When I was really down I can remember wondering why I bothered. I could see no point in my life, no future. And now I count myself so fortunate that even when times are difficult for various reasons I can see the point of my life totally. Its in the smile from a friend, the hug from a child. Its in the simple joy created by kindness and care.


Maya Angelou got it right when she said that people will remember the way you make them feel. It doesn't take much, but it does take a little bit of thought, a little bit of selflessness. Its about trying to make someone else feel good and about putting yourself second sometimes. It doesn't mean you have to be a doormat or a walkover, but the feeling you get from making someone else feel good about themselves is worth millions.


Just a thought ...

Blogger Love.

I have been blogging now for about 5 years and over that time I have built up a steady and loyal readership of which I am very proud. Each time I see another person has clicked to follow my blog my heart takes a little leap!

One of the reasons I started to write was as a way of releasing my emotions. I've always done this - when I was at university many years ago I wrote depressing poetry in reams!!! The difference now though is that whereas when I was at university, alone in my little concrete room, nobody read what I wrote, nowadays not only do people read it, they reply.

My last post was a cry from the heart, a release of my angst over the trials of motherhood, and from out there in the ether you came to help me. I was and am so touched by the care and friendship shown by people I have never met. This world of blogging gives us all a link and as we write about our everyday experiences, whether they be good, bad, joyful or sorrowful, it helps us to understand each other. Whether we live in the Home Counties of leafy England or half way across the world there is an understanding that fundamentally we are all pretty similar. We all have good days and bad. We all benefit from a hand that reaches out in tenderness.

Your comments made me feel good about myself. Your comments made me brush myself down, pick myself up, take a deep breath and carry on being a mum. I cannot thank you all enough.

Dog Days ...

Do you have days like the one I'm having? Days where you can do nothing right in the eyes of your family and especially your children? I have just come downstairs from my 14 year old who tells me I am an evil woman. The reason for this? I told him to turn off his laptop and tidy his room ...

The tirade of anger that met this request was just exhausting. Apparently I don't understand him and my other son is my favourite. I should tidy his room and pick the piles of clean clothes, that I washed, folded and put in his room, from the floor where he has thrown them. Apparently he cannot remember the last time I emptied the dishwasher ... I would imagine he didn't notice because he was on his laptop at the time.

I feel that I am walking an unending tightrope at the moment. I am trying to keep everyone happy - my husband, my sons, my work colleague. I seem to be an invisible woman - up at 6.30, sorting laundry, tidying the kitchen, cycling to work, working in circumstances which are, to say the least, trying, cycling home, studying, cleaning, staying quiet so as not to wake my shift working husband, making tea ( to complaints most days) clearing up, doing homework with the boys, being a psychologist ... The list goes on.

I can feel, lurking in the depths of me, the tendrils of my depression trying to reach up and drag me down. I try to sleep well, exercise, be organised, write, to keep those tendrils at bay. I cannot let myself sink again into the blackness.

As a mum I give everything for my children. I love them so much, but my God, they nearly break me. Tonight as my son slammed his door in my face and told me all my failings I wanted to scream and rage. But I didn't. I remained calm and reasoned. I was the bigger person.

But I wish sometimes that I could just go. Go somewhere where I could not be a skivvy, not be everyone's metaphorical punchbag. I am sick of being expected to hold down a job, run a family, study and put up with everyone else's problems and worries. I have to do all this until I feel as though I am going to break and yet still give and give.

I don't know what to do about my son. I have removed all his electronic goods, much to his fury. I worry about him. He tells me that he is totally stressed, unhappy. He even said he had considered suicide. My God!! He has so much potential, but everything is starting to go wrong. He worries me and infuriates me. He sees no wrong in his behaviour, but is lazy, rude and aggressive verbally. He is also loving, funny, intelligent ...

I feel very alone at the moment. I have no confidence. There are not enough hours in the day and at the moment they mostly seem rather dark ...

Post Natal Depression - I was there.

It seems like a dream to me now ... a nightmare time muffled in darkness and despair. It should have been a time of joy and light and love, but it wasn't and I was ashamed.

Update: I am really sorry, but I have deleted the rest of this post. I have never done this before, but I just don't feel I can have my words on a page that my children might stumble across. I am not ashamed of having gone through PND - it was a dark part of my life that I got through with the help of my family, my friends, my doctor.

My greatest fear through all the misery was that I would damage my boys with my anger and sorrow. The thought that I might hurt them now, by writing about feelings that engulfed me so long ago, is too much of a risk.

I have my original post, but I am not going to keep it on here. I hope that you can understand.

A dark day in my bright world.

Today, for the first time in years I am feeling just awful.I feel the way I felt when I had Post Natal Depression. My life feels like a heavy weight bearing down on me, strangling me. I am incapable of fighting.My only resort is to write, to try and empty myself of this feeling.

I have just screamed at my children for no good reason and I am surrounded by things that need doing. Things that I can't do. The washing. The dishes.My essay.The hoovering.Everything is closing in on me.

When I had my boys this happened, but I didn't know what it was.I was supposed to be happy - with a young baby that we had wanted for so long. And all I felt was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed and empty at the same time. I would stare at nothing for long periods of time and I could see no point in anything. My life. Anybody's life.

As I feel now I am both angry and empty. Now I can analyse my emotions - then they took me over and consumed me.Now I know that I will get through this. Then I could quite easily have ended everything and I would not have cared.Today I am filled with emptiness, but also a hatred for everything around me. I want to stand and scream and scream until I am too tired and my throat is too sore. Until I fall to my knees and weep and weep and sleep.

One day when my boys were tiny I took them to my friend's house and begged her to look after them for an hour while I got help. I knew that I had to see someone or I would do something terrible.I was filled with shame and a sense of awful failure. How could someone like me, middle class, intelligent,bright,calm, how could I have fallen prey to a break down?I got to the doctor's and stood in reception crying.The doctor saw me and told me that I was not a failure, that this was the first day of getting better, because I had had the guts to ask for help.

It took time, but I did get better.

Today is a blip.I know that my hormones are screwing me up today. Chemicals in my body are messing with my mind.But it still hurts.I know that this is not the long slow slide into madness. It is a temporary condition.I have realised that depression is something that I can cope with. I have lived through it and come out the other side. It is not something to be ashamed of and not something that has any foundation in reason.You could look at me and tell me that I have everything - health, kids,comfort - but when the demons of depression take a hold they do so relentlessly, cruelly.The world goes dark and cold.I am filled with doubt, fear, hatred.

Today I feel alone and I feel useless.Today I know that I will never be a teacher, never fulfill my potential.Today I know that I am unloved, unliked, ugly and selfish.And writing this down will begin to allow me to hear the small voice of reason in the distance.The voice of reason tells me to get up, go for a walk,do something positive... even if it is only to clear the coffee table.A journey starts with tiny steps.

I am sorry to burden you with this.By the time you read this I will be much better. I have learned to cope. But thank you for reading this at all. The fact that you reached the end makes me feel a little warmer.