Tag Archives: medication

A spoon full of sympathetic sugar really can help the medicine go down

Sometimes you go to the doctor because a bigger than your average blackhead on your neck looks like it is about to ooze something that could garner 3 million disgust loving hits on You Tube. I don’t know about you , but I have been known to fashion a head torch at 3am to lovingly turn to the husbands back in bed to try and seek out a juicy blackhead for me to squeeze . According to him, the head torch fell out of the camping box above us and my acrylic nail accidentally stabbed him in the back while I was caressing his big strong back , overwhelmed by it in the middle of the night . But I digress…..

You think , hmm, said blackhead is a bit disgusting and is starting to do my head in a bit. I’ve left it a while and didn’t go to the doctor, as who goes to the doc with something that a fair amount of people can suffer from but no one really talks about – you don’t really hear people going ” Susan , look , look at this blackhead booming out of the back of my neck” while at the water filter in work do you ? Unless you’re me maybe . But , it hurts now and you’re finding it hard to cover up and people are starting to notice that you are wearing a polo neck everyday in your windowless office, so no one notices it. You know when you go you the doctor they will may say ,why didn’t you come sooner , ping on the latex gloves and fix your little problem there and then. If you are unlucky, they might say , yikes, that little blighter is gaining some momentum and has surpassed blackhead stage and is now a giant come done and I’m not too sure I can whip it out of your neck here so let’s refer you to the specialist to cauterize it which will fix you up good and proper. Or , at worst , which you most definitely you don’t want to hear is , you have skin, it’s a blackhead , it can happen and even though it’s three foot wide and making your life a misery, you just need to pull yourself together and think how lucky you are that you have skin. Some people would really like skin.

So – why did you wait so long to go to the doctor and pull down your roll neck to reveal your ailment ?

– you were embarrassed and thought the doctor won’t have seen anything so awful in their entire career ?
– You were ashamed and thought the doctor would think you were weak for not being able to get rid of the bloody thing yourself ?
– You were worried the doctor would have concerns about your hygiene and thought they might send you to social services ?
– Not take you seriously and say blackheads are to be expected as you have a face . And to pull yourself together and get on with it. Everyone gets blackheads?

Maybe one ? Maybe all three ? Maybe for another reason ? But its not just blackheads that make us shuffle our feet slowly when it comes to going to the doctor though is it ? What about when we produce a baby and become a mothership and don’t feel the ‘ oh my god isn’t it the best thing ever’ joy the supplement in the Sunday newspaper said it would be? When you are pregnant , we are fed the line that all the pain we go through is worth it , when you see your baby , the moons will align , your heart and head will ping together like sugar and spice and all things nice and life will continue in a more joyous way than ever.

So when this doesn’t happen , your head and heart go a tad haywire. You are a mother now, you have a beautiful child , it knows your heartbeat , your smell, your voice. But you don’t feel quite right. You don’t just feel sad, you feel like your heart is aching in a way you have never experienced. You are beyond tired, you feel scared , you aren’t quite sure if you can do this . This new job you have for life, it’s not just tough, it’s unknown. You have presents and visitors and overly helpful mother in laws coming to stay and bleaching the toilet , ironing your paper maternity pants and eating all your biscuits but you feel more lonely than you have ever felt in your life. Life is whizzing on around you , with balloons and cards clogging up the living room. But soon the balloons start to deflate. And as they do , so do you . Your head doesn’t feel like it’s yours anymore, your mind feels like it’s been taken over and you feel like nature is playing a terrible trick on you.

If your lucky, you may have heard that this can happen when you have a baby. Postnatal depression , anxiety, OCD, psychosis can rear their very unwelcome heads. And rather like your mother in law, they make themselves comfy in your space and don’t go easily. You’ve had enough , it’s time to go now thank you but no no , doesn’t budge. And sometimes it won’t easily without a bit of help. And this help usually comes in the shape of a health care professional.

However , it’s becoming more and more obvious to me, my friends who were ill like me, the fab health care professionals I have met in the last six years since I was unwell and the window cleaner, that lots of mums don’t go to the GP or tell their health visitor when they start experiencing symptoms of Postnatal Depression etc. Scratch when they start – some don’t go or say even after they have been feeling like it for a while. Why the dickens is this I hear you cry? I am a member of approx 37657546 mums groups on Facebook to try and see when a mum feels low and to signpost her to decent help. Aside from being smalltimemum1 , in the real world, I have been known to do a little bit of research and so I thought I would do some digging to see why mums don’t go to the doctor. No fancy sample sizes, no base weights , no blah blah research talk . Instead , just anecdotal evidence from real mums who have suffered. I put posts on some large Facebook groups where I know mums have posted about being unwell and asked them to say why they didn’t go to the doctor or tell another health care professional or if they did , weren’t entirely honest about their symptoms .

This blog is not to throw a pile of used maternity pads at doctors in disgust. Quite the opposite. I want to help mums. And to do that I want to help doctors understand mums whose minds have taken a trip somewhere they don’t want it to be after they have a baby and how their words and actions can impact on them. And I want to do this because when I became unwell with Postpartum Psychosis I encountered many health care professionals who were stumped at what was wrong with me. Some were ridiculous – ‘you have a baby now, it’s what women do, you will be ok soon’. One told me to bake a cake. Some said they had never seen a mum in a state like me before, babbling about cutting through the clouds with scissors and some said, oh my love, you’re not in a good way are you? We need to get you better.

The most helpful were those who let me cry on them , let my poor husband cry on them and who said , I’m not quite sure how to help you but I am going to phone a colleague who I think knows more than me. I’m writing this to give docs a bit more of a clue about how their actions , which may seem inoffensive and slight at delivery time , can have a long term effect on the woman. And what they can do to provide some comfort, some help and some hope to the woman in front of them , who desperately needs it.

There was a brilliant report published last year called ‘Falling Through The Gaps’ ( http://www.rcgp.org.uk/clinical-and-research/toolkits/~/media/0DF1836E7D6B46788519F79E0ACF6EB2.ashx) which surveyed women , asking why they didn’t go to the GP when displaying symptoms of a perinatal mental illness . It’s a brilliant report and I suggest you read it. All of it. And then eat it so it stays in you ( don’t really do that – imagine having to go to casualty with that one). It has a great quote which I think sums up the thoughts of the women of the world – ‘ Once a woman has asked for help and need has been identified, the way GPs and other professionals respond is then crucial to ensure women get the treatment and support they require.’

I was eventually helped when Joe was six weeks old. Hello Dr Ghandi in Psychiatric Outpatients who gently asked me questions about whether I was hearing voices while nodding his head and saying don’t worry, I know this is awful but you will get some help now. Hello to the nurses in the Nottingham Mother and Baby Unit who, upon my walking in , sans knickers with a pair of leggings covering my lady area , yelling that I could smell burning and in the middle of an enormous panic attack at the thought of being in a room on my own with my son, took my hand and gave me a warm long cuddle and stroked my cheek and hair while rocking me on the bed. Hello to Dr Mark, the psychologist who sat and listened to me self analyze about why this happened to me and saw me every two weeks to ensure my rocky road to recovery didn’t turn into a collapsed jelly. Hello to my mental health nurse Gwyneth, who did my EMDR therapy and made me follow her finger around the room so I didn’t fear my memories anymore. Hello to Dr Fraser , my old GP who is now retired who desperately tried to get me help in London when all I faced was brick walls and hello to my health visitor Louise who , upon my discharge from the unit and my return to our home 200 miles away four months later, came and sat with me everyday at home for two hours. Thank you for letting me cry on you, thank you for admitting you weren’t quite sure what had happened to me but sat and held my hand and told me it was going to be ok. Thank you for sorting out Homestart to come and help me get through the day. Thank you for telling me I was a wonderful mummy during the time I felt I had let my own child down. Without all of you , I would not be here , in my living room marveling at my six year olds football skills. I wouldn’t be making a giant Jaffa cake with him after school and I wouldn’t be able to help support other mums who are in the grip of this awful illness.

The medical profession quite simply saved my life. My family and I are forever grateful. But I also know how my recovery could have been started far earlier than it did. I shouldn’t have had to wait for nearly two months after my sons birth for someone to finally listen to me and see what a terrible state I was in. I saw GP after GP, went to casualty, saw different midwives and health visitors , all who didn’t know anything about me and some who didn’t have the time to listen to my husband run through all my hideous symptoms as there were 24 other patients waiting to be seen in reception. I was barely looked at by them. Health visitors came to my house and prodded my boobs and asked ‘ if baby is doing well/ if mum is walking around to help her recovery from her c section’. I was void of a name. I was referred to as ‘ mum’ and treated like just another entity on their very long list of new mums to visit that day.

Women go to the GP when they feel like they have had enough. They don’t want feel like hurling their baby out of the window. They don’t want to feel they would be better off dead. They want to feel happy, to enjoy life again, to not be crying everyday. And to leave the doctors with not any flicker of hope can be truly awful because where do they turn now? They have probably booked appointments and cancelled them numerous times, with nerves kicking in and a fear of ‘ what do I say to the doctor?’ Flashing through their mind all day and night. It’s likely they have scoured the Internet for weeks on end to try and put a name to their thoughts and feelings and the moment they walk into the doctors room if they do make it to the appointment can be so nerve wracking that they can probably hear their heart pounding . They know a magic cure won’t be given to them , they know it may take meds, therapy, time , bad days here and there but they go to the doctor to start their recovery. And when no sense of that is felt when they leave , trust me , it’s awful. You feel like your options are exhausted. You’ve tried to smile, you have tried to live day by day , you tried the doctor and what now ? Where do you go now for help?

Below are some of the reasons women told me they didn’t tell a health care professional how they felt or didn’t return to the doctor after an unsuccessful first trip.

Postnatal Depression ‘isn’t real’ .

“I was told by my health visitor that PND didn’t exist in the 40s and 50s and she doesn’t understand why women have babies if they can’t cope with motherhood. She said that everyday she hears ‘ I have PND’ and that she didn’t hear it this much 15 years ago and it’s Loose Women on the TV putting ideas into women’s heads. So I didn’t go to the doctor as I thought they wouldn’t listen

This is an actual quote from someone who messaged me. So , let’s get this straight – PND is a modern illness that is caused by women wanting to have it all ? In ye olden days , women got wed, got preg, had ten babies and then made a steak and kidney suet pudding for tea. They had no time to be depressed – they had 18 pairs of pants to boil wash ! No time to cry when there is jam to be made for your owner ( husband ) to spread on his crumpet ! Ugh.

We of course know this is ridiculous . It’s been reported that Queen Victoria had postnatal depression and that was a fairly long time ago? Look at this blog about a dear lady in 1850 who it seems suffered postnatal depression and psychosis( http://tmsorangementalhealthcaretreatments.d20blogs.org/2014/02/12/emma-riches-postnatal-depression-1850s/) – not quite this modern illness is it. In short, it’s been around since cave ladies were having a free birth in a rock pool but it wasn’t spoken about. Women were treated for ‘nerves’, had their hands restrained, put in an asylum, hidden from public view and forgotten about.

I’ve heard it all from people as to why postnatal depression is a modern illness over the last few years. Daily Fail articles and the comments sections have some real corkers , such as- wait for it- having a baby outsides of marriage must cause women to feel hysterical as there is apparently no stability. So married women never get it? Hmm. They might as well have said that Postnatal depression is caused by radio signals and for a woman to turn all her electronic equipment off and she may see her mood may improve. I’m no Bill Gates. I can’t even make an excel spreadsheet and have to use a calculator to divide a £20 lunch bill between two people but I am struggling to understand how my wifi password can cause a panic attack. And how turning Radio Four off can stop me from wanting to give the baby to the nice lady next door and walking away.

It’s not a modern illness and for a health car professional to say that is ill informed and dangerous. Not all symptoms show themselves in the same way for some women. Some paint a mask on to show they are coping – dropping one kid at school with another in a buggy to be dropped at nursery while the newborn is strapped to the chest, going to work, cooking four different dinners, waking up 17 times a night to feed the baby . People say oooohhh look at Alison, hasn’t she taken motherhood in her stride- whizzing around and still has her hair perfectly curled in place. But Alison could actually be trying to mask her feelings. The hair and make up could be a cover to how she is feeling and a doctor needs to try and find a way through that so Alison opens up. And so we come to our next section ….

You can’t have Postnatal Depression as your eyebrows are on fleek

One woman told me her doctor said ” I seriously doubt you have postnatal depression . You’re up and out with the baby and have done your face. You look lovely so go out and enjoy your baby” and another said ‘I told my gp for a year that I thought i felt sad and very tearful and has no energy. I told her I had felt suicidal. She said “but you’re able to tell me this and this means you know your own mind. I’m not worried about you”. Not all mothers with PND are wandering around with the look of a life sentence strewn across an overly aged face . Some of them can even put their own pants on would you believe. For some mums , they continue with the grooming they did before baby came along. For some , they apply more make up, iron even more clothes, look swankier than ever because they are trying to mask how they really feel. Inside they feel like a crumpled up bra in the corner but they don’t want everyone to know they are suffering . To the outside world they want to seem to be coping but not to the doctor. They trust that a doctor can see through the layer of foundation covering the cracks in their mind.

However , the Falling Through The Gaps report showed just under half of the GPs surveyed said they ‘received no specific training in this field of work to identify an unwell mum and of those who had received training, just under a quarter had accessed it as part of core specialist training for general practice’. So I can totally see why it’s difficult. Doctors are human, it’s hard to spot things sometimes and we have all had that thing when a friend is sad or low and we say ‘ ooh but she seemed so happy, it’s come out of no where’ . But what you could do is do more than look. Looks can be deceiving , that’s the point of them. Ask questions , glance into her eyes, hold her hand . Tell her it’s ok to be open , tell it that you know having a baby can be hard . Even if your a male doctor who has never had a kid. You might not know what’s it’s like to push a half stone lump of flesh out of your vaginal area or to have major surgery on your stomach to help the baby into the world, but you have a heart and a head. Ask the questions that give you more answers than yes and no and listen to her responses. One woman who sent me some comments wrote ” Mental health is different for us all. Listen to us, listen hard and you’ll hear us telling you”.

Really listen. I was asked if I wanted to flush the baby down the toilet by the first doctor I saw. I actually think in reality that I wanted to flush myself down the loo as my husband liked the baby and I didn’t want to be alive anymore,but as she asked me she laughed . So I let out a fuzzy laugh and said I don’t know. Letting out a laugh when asking your patient if they effectively want their baby to go away forever, as if an answer of yes would be the most ridiculous thing in the world isn’t helpful. And won’t give you a true reflection of the real answer.

Maybe something like this could help ? A fab PND charity in Cheshire called The Smile Group have produced this GP checklist for mums to fill in and hand to their GP should they not know how to or are too scared to verbalize their symptoms. It’s brilliant and has helped many mums. Maybe it could help some health professionals too ? http://www.thesmilegroup.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/GP-Checklist.pdf

I don’t want to go back to the doctor as they said before I can take any anti-depressants, I have to stop breastfeeding.

I don’t wanna go to the docs and talk as I don’t want to feel pressured in to stop breastfeeding to take medicine/ my doctor said he can’t prescribe any anti- depressants until I stop breastfeeding and to come back when I have and he will give me some / my doctor said I can’t expect to be able to take any tablets while I am feeding and to stop reading things on the internet that say I can

I am not a doctor. If I was, I would most probably pin someone’s ears back if they came to see me about an ingrown toenail. I once thought my child had two bum holes when in fact one of them was a dimple so consider yourselves lucky I didn’t have any big ideas about wandering around with a stethoscope. However, knowing some truly splendid doctors now I do lots of awareness raising work for maternal mental health ,I am aware there are some anti depressants you can take while still being able to give your child boobie. For some mums, as it was for me, breastfeeding is key to help them bond with their baby. I couldn’t look at or hold Joe on my own but I could breastfeed him. If I had been made to give it up, it would have been terrible. Thankfully, when I was ill, I went into a mother and baby unit and the docs had libraries worth of info on what meds I could take and I was able to untangle the mess my mind was in while being able to continue nursing Joe.

Obviously , there are some anti depressants you can’t nurse on. And then it’s for you and your health care professional to discuss the best way forward to ensure you get better and what choices need to be made.

But doctors – please please talk to mums who come to you with some care and if you arent sure what you can prescribe , there is a medication fairy called Wendy Jones who knows about medications breastfeeding and who more than happy to talk to health care professionals and or mums – her website is here http://www.breastfeeding-and-medication.co.uk. You can also call the Drugs in Breastmilk helpline on 0844 412 4665 for advice – more details are here on the Breastfeeding Network’s webpage https://www.breastfeedingnetwork.org.uk/contact-us/helplines/.

The doctor said it was normal to feel overwhelmed after having a baby. So I thought wanting to feel like running away was what every mum on the street felt like.

‘The worst thing a GP said to me was ‘its normal’. I believed them and it was ‘normal’ for me to be depressed for a long time. I wish he had listened, I wish he’d said ‘come back if you don’t feel more positive in a couple of weeks’, I wish he’d asked me why I was feeling that way

It’s not normal .Its normal to have the baby blues but these go after a days or weeks. If it lasts longer and it’s causing you to feel like a sack of potatoes that have been mashed while raw, it needs help. It may be common but it’s not normal and it’s not ok to not be well. Mothers deserve more. They deserve to be happy and feeling sad , fearful and at times to the point of suicide,is not normal in any way, even if as a doctor, you have seen four other mums that morning saying the same thing. The Falling Through The Gaps report had this quote – ” At the six week check the GP asked if I felt low and I told her I felt dreadful and she just said “every mum feels that – it’s normal”. I really believe that support in those early months might have changed my life, and my child’s life for the better. I asked for help and felt unheard” .

Read the last sentence again.

She felt unheard. Even though she spoke out.

Do you know how much courage it takes for a mum to come to you and say she isn’t feeling good? As women, we are born and grow up knowing that nature has blessed us with a body to bear the fruits of a loom should we desire. According to nature, we have wombs in case we want to grow a baby, breasts are there as natures way of feeding them and our vaginas are there for a baby to come into the world and so when we have a baby and it all goes a bit haywire, we think , what on earth? My body has done what nature says it can do so why isn’t my mind doing the same ? I would stare at women on the street with a new baby and think , how come you haven’t pulled your hair from its roots yet? How are you smiling ? How can you hold your baby as I can’t hold mine as I shake too much as I am scared of him? We have this perpetuated image of how things should be, having read every single mother and baby magazine going while pregnant . So, when we don’t feel like that and we feel we need medical help, it takes a lot of strength for a mum to book the appointment , attend the appointment and speak at the appointment.

‘I never had a diagnosis after my first baby but I was incredibly unwell, I finally plucked up the courage to see a GP and he told me I had the baby blues and to go home have a cup of tea and a chocolate bar and everything would be fine. It was 18 incredibly dark and painful months, filled with a longing to take my own life, the certainty I didn’t deserve my baby and almost the end of my marriage before I found the courage to step into the Dr’s surgery again. Please don’t treat us like silly little girls and suggest chocolate as a solution to mental health issues

Where do I start with this example??? This is familiar to me as I too was told by a doctor, after my husband telling them I thought the duvet cover was dancing and I couldn’t be in the same room as my son, to make a cake and really spend some time eating it and to enjoy it. As nice as cakes and tea are, a slice of cheesecake isn’t going to stop someone from being scared of their child. If it did, the shelves of Tesco’s would be permanently empty and pharmacists wouldn’t have a job. Its not normal. Can you imagine the absolute bravery it takes for a mum to go to her doctor and say I keep having visions of hurting my baby? Imagine her spilling that all out, how she is afraid to be with her baby in case something happens , for a doctor to say go home home and eat a walnut whip ? Eating a walnut whip will not stop you having visions of dropping your baby. I doubt there needs to be any research into this either , it seems fairly obvious. This mum sums it up here – ” I had my third 3rd baby I started to get horrendous thoughts . I attempted to speak to my gp who was really not hearing me and told me it was normal.”

The doctor snorted when I said I wasn’t coping and made mine feel stupid for not being able to cope

“I was feeling no bond with my baby, i had most of the symptoms of PND including the crying all the time, feeling hopeless, useless etc, feeling like something terrible was going to happen etc. I tried to ask the GP for help (i was about 9 weeks PP) my husband was there too. I told him how i felt and that i feared i was battling PND. He chuckled to himself (the DR) and told me that it was normal for new mums to feel this way, then turned to my husband and said its probably just womanly problems. At this point i just wanted to cry. I didnt ask for help again until i was pregnant with my second child, and my depression came back with force”.

Womanly problems eh? Us hysterical women moaning as we are being forced to do more than wash the pots and service our husbands. Can’t cope with a baby when 97 year old Mrs Smith who lives at number 13 down the road , managed to have 12 babies and always had a smile on her face. Didn’t see her depressed did you? She had no time to be depressed! Pull yourself together woman. Chuckle chuckle vision.

I had a doctor ask me if I had planned my own suicide. I said no . Reason being , I was unable to get myself dressed or go to the toilet as I had forgotten how to. My poor husband turned into my carer and the only reason I was able to get to the doctors was because he sat me on the toilet, dressed me and plonked me in a seat at the surgery . I was in such a state i don’t think I could have planned anything let alone my own death. The doctor, without looking at me and staring at her screen said ‘ then you are low risk, go home and get some sleep. All will seem better the morning’ .

Well that morning I woke up and smashed my forehead into a wall. I told john I wanted to go under a bus and at one point locked myself in the bathroom babbling that the razor I was holding was nice and shiny and peaceful . I refused to look at my son and went on fours on my in laws bed and barked like a dog. As you can see, all that rest the doctor advised four hours before at 3am hadn’t made all seem better had it? I thought I was a jack Russell looking for my lost tail…… I was in a psychiatric mother and baby unit a few hours later.

Reacting in a different way however can prove such a difference. Someone sent me through the following quote and my mood shifted from sadness to joy ask read it. Take a look.

I went to docs after speaking with m HV . Doc said I was over reacting, worrying about nothing and I shouldn’t expect to feel the same about my second baby as I did my first!! I was so shocked!! I told him things i had never said out loud!! I came out, called my HV and within 5mins was back in and seeing a different doctor who was amazing. He saw me ay least once a week until my councillor appointment came through. With my 3rd I decided to take the advice of my midwife and saw a councillor every week through my whole pregnancy x so far so good xx hard work and I use the coping strategies I learnt every day. My son’s (12yrs, 6yrs,22mths) are amazing!! Most of the time;)”

Look at the difference with a different approach. And how positive the mum is at the end. Her happiness, her children’s happiness and her recovery happened because someone listened to her and took steps to help her. This my friends is what good looks like.

I don’t want to tell anyone how I feel as I am worried my baby will be taken away by Social Services

” I never talk to anyone about how I feel and the thoughts I have had continuously going through my head because I worry that if I got professional help , they would take my daughter from me.”

“I didn’t ask for help because I had thoughts of hurting my little boy. I’d heard so many stories about Social Services and I just knew he would be taken away and id be called a bad parent. What I had wasn’t normal at all & I would be taken into a mental hospital.”

You can see that mums are terrified of opening one up. They are terrified their baby will be taken from them and that ‘bad mother’ will be written all over their files. An article in the holy grail that is the Daily Fail ( bear with me , yes it’s awful and I usually take glee in chucking into the bin) said that as many as 35,000 mothers each year are suffering in silence from post-natal depression, with many too afraid to seek help in case their babies are taken away from them. To live your life day after day with distressing visions entering your head on loop is like Nightmare on Elm Street crossed with Groundhog Day. They don’t just go. They seep through and stop you in your tracks. And most importantly, you don’t want them. You don’t like them. You want them to go away go away go away.

“Everyone worries about their baby and whether they’re safe so I thought it was just normal, never mind the fact I was washing my hands to the point they would cracking and bleed from fear they were contaminated and something awful would happen to him. That was just the begining. Negative scary thoughts started ruling my life. I was scared all the time but more scared if telling people what these thoughts were o was sure my son would be taken away from”.

Please please please when someone comes to you with symptoms of something like intrusive thoughts, what you should be saying is , well done for coming , I know this wasn’t easy. You aren’t evil, this doesn’t mean you want to hurt your baby and we are going got get you some support. Reassure them that Social Services, if intervention is ever needed in any case , doesn’t mean their baby will be automatically taken from them and repeat repeat and repeat again that they are not a bad parent but rather they are experiencing the symptoms of an illness. And why ? Because this may be the only chance to . And if you handle that chance wrong , that mother may not come back again. And if you read the first example above , that mother sunk to a terrible terrible low where she admits she almost took her life and she didn’t go to another GP for almost two years. And that isn’t good enough. That mother deserves to lead a happy life with her baby. And she deserves to be alive.

The fear of a baby being taken is undoubtably one of the biggest reason mums don’t divulge their symptoms. It is beyond terrifying to think that by opening up to not feeling like you are in a rose petal covered bubble , that a doctor will say, right then, here take these pills, make yourself a cup of tea and pack the babies bag because Social Services will come and swoop them away at any moment. Without explanation and with a fear that they will never see them again. As health care professionals, you need to do all you can to reassure mums what will and won’t likely happen, point them to guidance that explains procedures and also explain that Social Services, if they do ever become involved, actually want to support . A doctor friend of mine pointed me to this page that she shares with her patients when they say they are scared to be honest about their feelings because they are scared their precious baby will be removed from their care – http://childprotectionresource.online/reporting-post-natal-depression/. We know that very few mothers are a real risk to their baby but there may be times of course where extra help , support and intervention is needed. But, by helping to soothe the very real fears of mums would undoubtedly mean we would have more of them coming forward early on in their illness and getting help more quickly.


The doctor said I was too young to have pnd so I left and didn’t go back. I felt stupid for going and wondered what the hell could be wrong with me.

Hmm. Mental illnesses don’t discriminate . They can affect anyone at any time and seeing as 10-15 women in every 100 who have a baby develop postnatal depression,these women can be any age. Maybe it’s the ‘you are young , what have you got to be worried about attitude’ that is sometimes chucked at younger people that made this line come out ? What should this lady have done ? Counted down , sadly , to her next birthday where her symptoms would suddenly be valid? ‘ happy birthday to me , I’m not full of glee. I feel very sad and don’t want to drink tea’. There was some research done into age of mother and risks of postnatal depression which you can read an abstract from here http://www.morrispsych.com/postpartum-depression-are-older-mothers-more-at-risk/ and it confirms that age alone is not a factor for increased risk. So , whether you are 16 or 65. It can affect you .

It would be really nice to see the same person more than once

A massive reason for no disclosure appears to be because people are simply fed up of having to re- tell their story 87 times to 9767 different health care professionals. So you pluck up the courage to see one doc, blurt it all out, doctor is brilliant, supports , talks and books you a follow up in two weeks where they will discuss meds and you go back and it’s a new doctor. Who reads the screen instead of looking at you and nods while you re-tell your tale of wanting to run out of the house at 2am and never return and then says I don’t think meds are right for you . You think , but the other doctor said such and such. And then the health visitor comes round who is different to the one who came and weighed the baby and she throws in that postnatal depression can’t be diagnosed until12 weeks. When the first doctor said it was after six weeks. And this rings true with the Falling Through The Gaps report says that a few GPs said that information sharing did not work as well as it could.

‘Finally screwed up my courage to go to GP when #2 was a few months old. He seemed embarrassed and gave me a helpline number. Couldn’t face opening up to someone again who might also be so totally disinterested, so just decided to soldier on – probably took about 2 years to find my way out. I didn’t have enough spare energy to fight for the help I needed’

‘I had pnd & ptsd after #1 died, whilst pregnant with #2 I asked for mh referral. 3 times I asked my midwife to refer me, 3 times she told me the notes said they had contacted me & I hadn’t responded. Utter rubbish I’d never been contacted but it made me look bonkers so i gave up asking for help’.

‘I lie, put on a front and hide until I trust. That takes time. Apart from my perinatal team, i never saw the same person twice in 3 years’.

Head bang on table. Everyone is saying different stuff and they all have the common issue of not being able to access the same notes. We know this is a problem that cant be fixed easily but its really confusing to mums , at a time when things are confusing enough , to have different ideas thrown at them by a hundred different people. We all know that on one the Edinburgh Postnatal Scale could score overwhelmingly high and the next day not so much so and team this with two different doctors then it all gets a bit out of control. Being able to see the same doctor , HV or mental health professional ensures a consistency of care . I had an anxiety collapse a few years ago when I found out I was pregnant again. I went from being a very happy mummy to my gorgeous three year old, 2.5 years recovered, to a total wreck in the space of a couple of days . The wee covered pregnancy stick had sent my mind into total panic mode at the fear of going psychotic again and the doctor who knew me and what had happened to me after my son was born,after liaising with the mother and baby unit I had been in advised me to go back on to my meds. I went on these when I had psychosis after much trial and error with other pills and knew they were he ones for me. However , a duty psychiatrist asked me why on earth I was taking these meds and wanted to change them. This was the first time I had met him , he had spoken to me for 3 minutes and had no access to any of my notes. He said he was too busy to hear my whole back story ( it was 4am and I had waited 19 hours to see him) and said the meds he suggested would help but if I didn’t want them , then he couldn’t help me.

This was not helpful. The next day , we travelled 200 miles and saw the treatment team from the mother and baby unit I was in three years earlier. They liaised with a doctor I knew and the psychiatrist who was treating me and I went back on my old meds at a reduced dose. And my recovery began. I felt safe with doctors who knew me and my story.

I felt like the doctor wants to get me out of the door and he kept looking up at the time. Tick tick tock .

‘My first baby, we had her post birth gp check (usually at 6 weeks) and my post birth 8 week check combined at 8 weeks as a time/money saving initiative. My partner wanted to be there for my daughters check up. They did the pnd test where you score your mood etc from 1-5 while he was there (it was 4 and a half years ago so pretty hazy now) I remember not scoring as accurately, and negatively, as I felt because I didn’t want my partner to think I was weak’

All the alarm bells should be ringing . One lady said her six week check, which took place at about 12 weeks ,consisted of the doctor washing her hands , saying ‘things will start picking up now’ and then saying to give the baby orange juice to make him poo. It lasted about 4 minutes and she walked out wondering what had just happened. Gps are beyond busy. They are worked to the god damn bone and we should support our doctors to the very end but when you go in the door and feel like you are being pushed out the other twenty seconds later, it can have a terrible effect on that mother it’s happened to. And she may not come back . The Falling through the gaps Rory talked about the time pressures on GPs said they ‘are noted to act as a disincentive to disclosure’ and this is so worrying.

Great things health care professionals did :

But like I said. This blog isn’t to tear Heath Care Professionals down. Its to inform – as the reality is , we know you have to see about 74 people a day , which is why you whizz through appointments We know you are under so much pressure and that can be super stressful. And we know that you aren’t supported enough , and we support you. So , I wanted to include things form people about the brilliant stuff health care professionals have done to help mums who walkthrough their door search for a kickstart to recovery. I owe my life to the medical profession and know how much you do work to get your patients the help and support they need. The Falling Through The Gaps report showed that ‘women appeared most positive about the care they received when it felt personalised and integrated, when they were involved in making decisions about their care and when it was experienced as wrapping around their needs’.

So , where there is a real sense that women don’t feel listened to at times, there is , of course , many many examples of amazing care. There may be no perinatal pathway in your area, you as a GP may not have much knowledge of mental illness or even more specifically, perinatal mental illness and we know that. We know you work like hell in a system that doesn’t support you in anyway and we the patients support you. But what you can do is show kindness and compassion when a mum who comes to you really needs it. You can even say , look I am not quite sure how we are going to get you help but take a tissue, have a cry, tell me your biggest fear. If you can’t tell me , write it down and show me and I will see what I can do. Sometimes, a bit of understanding and kind words are all that are needed to show that mum it’s ok to go to the doctor and open up.

‘The best thing my GP did was praise me for seeking help. When you’re in a bad place it’s very difficult to view yourself in a positive light so the fact she’d made a point of saying it was very thoughtful. She also highlighted the various ways I could keep myself safe (Samaritans, a&e, back to her, family help) whilst I waited for antidepressants to kick in, including satisfying herself I had a good support network in place. She also liased with pharmacist to work out the best ad’s to take whilst breastfeeding. She really was exemplary in her care, in fact my whole GP practice are fantastic no matter who you get, I’ve been really impressed’

‘My health visitor was amazing and really helped me, took me to the doctors because I didn’t want to go alone/leave the house by myself with a very unhappy cmpa & reflux baby’

‘The one thing the GP told me that I’ll never forget and what helped me through the shittest of times is ‘You are all that little baby knows, he’s been inside you for 9 months and is now in the big world all by himself, he just needs his mummy and that’s okay, but it’s okay for mummy to need time’

‘When I was feeling even worse a few weeks later, I called my HV in tears to tell her what had been happening – she came round to see me in person, sorted a CBT referral there and then and put a complaint through to my GP about the way it had been handled. I don’t think I can thank her enough for how she dealt with it!’

‘I’m currently 35 weeks pregnant and have had antenatal depression during this pregnancy – I spotted it early, self referred to the counselling service after chatting to my husband, updated my midwife and HV and avoided going to the GP. It seems to be under control at this point, but if it comes back as PND after the baby is born, then we know what we’re looking for this time and the best way to get what I need from the system round here’

There is a harsh reality that mums avoid going to the doctor or don’t return to the doctor because of a previous negative experience . and this is so sad as its at a time when its vital for a mum to feel supported and comforted . Without doctors, health visitors etc, I know I am not alone when I say I am alive because of them ,which is why when I hear of a mum not wanting to go back to a doctor for help and is slipping more and more into a state because of a previous experience or because of fear , that I feel like something needs to be done to show mums they can come back.

Perinatal Mental Health Toolkit

I was lucky enough to be able to , as a survivor of perinatal mental illness, review and contribute to the Perinatal Mental Health Toolkit , a resource for GPs which is here http://www.rcgp.org.uk/clinical-and-research/toolkits/perinatal-mental-health-toolkit.aspx . It’s Brillo- pads and I am delighted Carrie Ladd invited mums to view it and review it . It is designed to help doctors support women who come to them displaying symptoms of a perinatal mental illness and contains details on clinical resources for professional, details on medications and breastfeeding, resources that can be shared with the patient and their families, best practice info and details of support in the community that can compliment mums while they are suffering and in recovery, as well as a whole wad of other stuff. I urge you to read it and have a scan if a mum comes into you tomorrow. It’s a wealth of info in one place that’s easy to guide yourself around. If you do have any questions , there is an email address you can message and I think it’s brilliant that there is a specific resource that is bursting at the seams with great info to help not just women, but doctors, who have a hard enough job as it is , seeing so many people day to day with so many different medical issues.

The fabulous Judy Shakespeare did a presentation on International Women’s Day and advised that if a woman consults a GP saying she thinks she has a perinatal mental health problem, she is almost certainly right. It’s a big step to go the doctor or open up to a health visitor about how you are feeling and when it feels like you leave the doctors 4 steps backwards , that can be truly terrifying.

Do not send her away without a flicker of hope or tell her it’s normal when , if you really listen, it isn’t. She might look okay. It it doesn’t mean she is. She is sat in front of you because she wants help and more importantly, needs it.

How do I get up from the sack of potatoes that has knocked me down? How and where to get help and support for Perinatal mental illness.

Whether you are at the start of what you believe to be or have been diagnosed as having a perinatal mental illness, mid-way through ,where the horror of the start may be being chipped away by a sprinkling of golden good days here and there , or nearing the end where the fog has almost cleared, you can see the brightness of life before you with your baby and a smile allows itself to come through and the relief is feeling you want to bottle up forever, you need help and support.

And there is help and support available, provided by people who know what they are talking about and who know what may help you. Everyone’s experiences are different – whether its depression , anxiety, psychosis, OCD, feeling full of sadness , feeling full of fear , feeling alone – but what makes help great is it can be adjusted to help you in your situation.

It may feel like it but you aren’t alone. And it may not feel like it, but you will get better. The whizzy medical bods who like looking at graphs and number porn say that ‘1 in 7 women in the UK will be affected by problems with their mood during pregnancy and afterwards’. All these feelings tend to be termed under the Postnatal Depression in the media etc but they shouldn’t be – not all the feelings are related to depression. So, the medical bods put these feelings under one banner and call it the perinatal period.

I am not a doctor. I have no letters after my name that signifies I’m a medical brainbox and I can’t diagnose you. I am a mum who had postpartum psychosis and anxiety and thought my only way away from my feelings of utter despair was to not be here anymore. But I am. I’m here and I am well and you will be too.

So I may not have a medicalology but what I can do is point you in the direction of good, accredited, proper, real, and decent, un Del-Boy type sources of support that can help you.

I feel like a sack of potatoes have been thrown at me and I can’t get up. Does it have to be a big sack of potatoes or can it be just a little one? What do I do?

Whether your symptoms are classed as mild, moderate or severe, if they are making you feel bad then its bad and you need help. From one end of the spectrum, you don’t need to be psychotic to deserve help. I see lots of women say ‘but I didn’t think I was ill enough’. You’re ill enough if it’s affecting your life. Whether it’s made you feel teary at the exhaustion of being woken up 27 times a night or hallucinate that your baby is God, (or like me, make you take your clothes off and run into the road while clinging to your hubbys ankles), you are woman and you need to roar. Roar that you need and deserve help.

Perinatal mental health support in medical terms is a bit of a postcode lottery. In one place you might have an amazing dedicated team who fall asleep with the NICE guidelines on mental illness after a baby on their pillow and have a Mary Poppins handbag of amazing treatments to help you. In another place, you might find yourself in front of GP who doesn’t look at you when you pluck up the courage to go and see them and thinks Postnatal Depression is a modern day concoction of middle class mummies who want to have it all but cant. And then you may find an online doctor who has bought their degree via the University of Con-ville , will only give you treatment options if you buy their book and who suggest a dab of apple cider vinegar on your temples will ease the anxiety away. Avoid these people, stick with malt vinegar and only use it to make your chips taste nice.

I think I want the baby to live next door and using up three rolls of toilet paper a day because I am crying so much – Symptoms and signs of perinatal mental health problems

For details on mental health in pregnancy and after birth and the symptoms and signs of perinatal mental health problems, please have a look at the links I post. These are proper decent medical pages and will give you good info.

For a good overview of Perinatal Mental Illness, the NHS website below is good :
 http://www.nhs.uk/conditions/pregnancy-and-baby/pages/mental-health-problems-pregnant.aspx

The Baby Blues

The Association Of Postnatal Illness say that ‘after the birth of a baby about half of all mothers suffer a period of mild depression called the blues’. Most mums I know have experienced weepiness, exhaustion , feelings of being overwhelmed that pass very quickly and need no medical support.

Symptoms of the Blues

– Emotional and upset when they have the blues and they cry for no particular reason.

– Tired and lethargic

– Anxious and Tense 

– Difficulty sleeping

The medical wonders say if you have the blues, these feelings may last for a few hours or, at most, for a few days and then they disappear and dont need to be worried about. If they last longer then this though, seek medical help as it could mean something more serious is happening .

http://apni.org/the-baby-blues/

Antenatal Depression and Anxiety

As the super helpful NCT website says, antenatal depression can rear its ugly head while you are with child. Said baby is still in womb, giving you piles . You can have just found out you are pregnant and instead of feeling like those mums on Facebook who post a pic of their wee stained stick with the words ‘2 weeks pregnant’ while jumping up and down for joy with flowers round their head , you think jeepers, this does not make me feel spritely at all. Or you could sail through said pregnancy, get to 7 month and suddenly get walloped in the head by the depression dodge ball which you haven’t dodged at all. It’s knocked you down and you find it hard and almost impossible to get-up.

This is a real illness. Don’t feel shame because being pregnant is tinged with sadness – antenatal depression is becoming recognized and your GP can help.

https://www.nct.org.uk/pregnancy/antenatal-depression

Birth Trauma and PTSD

Giving birth can be traumatic but our antenatal classes con us into thinking if we master how to give birth on a bed made out of tofu and meditate ourselves into an orgasmic state , then we will simply feel like we are giving birth to a raindrop and we can hum the pain away. But for some , birth isnt that straightforward and can be a terrifying , anxiety inducing experience which leaves a big emotional mark on the mum. The Birth Trauma Association say that ‘when we talk of birth trauma, we mean Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) that occurs after childbirth. We also include those women who may not meet the clinical criteria for PTSD but who have some of the symptoms of the disorder’.

The BTA outline characteristic features of PTSD as including :

-An experience involving the threat of death or serious injury to an individual or another person close to them (e.g. their baby).

-A response of intense fear, helplessness or horror to that experience.

-The persistent re-experiencing of the event by way of recurrent intrusive memories, flashbacks and nightmares. The individual will usually feel distressed, anxious or panicky when exposed to things which remind them of the event.

-Avoidance of anything that reminds them of the trauma. This can include talking about it, although sometimes women may go through a stage of talking of their traumatic experience a lot so that it obsesses them at times.

-Bad memories and the need to avoid any reminders of the trauma, will often result in difficulties with sleeping and concentrating. Sufferers may also feel angry, irritable and be hyper vigilant (feel jumpy or on their guard all the time).

Birth Trauma / PTSD is very real. Giving birth isnt a bed of roses and can be an upsetting and difficult experience and you shouldn’t feel any shame if you are experiencing it . The BTA have a really helpful link on how and why you should access support here http://www.birthtraumaassociation.org.uk/help.htm

For more information see http://www.birthtraumaassociation.org.uk/default.asp

Perinatal OCD

Sometimes people call this Maternal OCD. You don’t hear much about this but you should – it’s not as rare as people think and can be distressing. The RCpsych page has piles of very good info so please take a look but as a quick view, RCpsych say the main three symptoms are as follows:

1) Thoughts or images that keep coming into your mind. These are called obsessions. Sometimes people call these intrusive thoughts. They can be very upsetting and you can visualize things you don’t want to see. These are more common than people realize and when I spoke of mine, I found others had had them also. Remember, however distressing the thoughts or visions, please don’t hold back from telling medical professionals about them. To treat you properly, they need to know your thoughts and feelings. And I guarantee, you won’t be the first to talk about these kind of symptoms to them.

The charity Maternal OCD says ‘obsessions can be focused on anything from germs to symmetry. When OCD presents itself during motherhood, the responsibilities for the life and well-being of a helpless infant may be experienced as a chronic stress’ and lists com

– Fear of contamination to the mother, child or anyone in contact with the child e.g. perceived risk of HIV, food poisoning

– Intrusive thoughts, images, doubts of harm e.g. risk of abuse/aggression if not careful

– Doubts that harm could come to child e.g. bottle steriliser not working

– Perfectionism e.g. everything around the house has to be a certain way.

This list is just an example but it should hopefully show the range of the differing obsessions mums could experience.

2) Anxiety – usually as a result of the thoughts. Then , thoughts or actions you keep repeating to try to reduce your anxiety. These are called compulsions.

The charity Maternal OCD says that ‘to try and eradicate the anxiety attached to the obsessions, mothers with OCD will act out rituals to ensure their child is safe and no harm will come to them. In fact, this makes the OCD worsen. Although the anxiety attached to the obsession reduces short-term it returns stronger and stronger. This means that potentially the mother is acting out rituals for a significant amount of her day’.

They list some examples of these below :

– Hyper vigilance when meeting new people or going to public toilets, this will include avoidance of touching other people, planning a day out around toilet breaks and using excessive wet wipes and hand sanitisers

– Hiding anything sharp around the house

– Constantly checking the gas is turned off, the petrol pump is working correctly

– Waking earlier than necessary and going to bed later than necessary to ensure the house is ‘just so’

– Constant reassurance seeking from friends, family members and maybe health professionals that the child is unharmed.

http://www.rcpsych.ac.uk/healthadvice/problemsdisorders/perinatalocd.aspx

http://www.maternalocd.org/index.php

Postnatal Depression and Anxiety

Everyone knows the term Postnatal Depression or PND as its more commonly referred to but even though the term is known about, mums (and dads) feel a real sense of shame when admitting they think they are suffering. You don’t need to feel shame – mother/fatherhood is no picnic in those early days.

As a mum ,you have just pushed a melon sized person out of your nether regions , you can’t wee for fear of bursting your stitches , you can’t sit down because your stitches appear to have been too thoroughly done by what appears to be the local seamstress, if you have had a c section, it feel like you are going to break in half at any point, a river of blood is gushing out of you for 6 weeks, your boobs look like they have won the golden ticket to the playboy mansion , great auntie Vera wants to come and stay and help out for the first 3 weeks which is worse than the devil coming over to play with fire in the garden and your baby appears to have laughed in the face of evolution and doesn’t ever sleep. People say oh it’s the best thing ever isn’t it and you’re standing there with sick down your top and someone else’s poo under your fingernails and you think what the dickens , I feel awful. I feel like crying.

Symptoms and feelings like those listed below may go quickly like the baby blues, which is where you are tears etc for a few days following birth. These go away fairly quickly. But if they carry on, they could be leading to postnatal depression or anxiety.

What you must remember though throughout all of this is – you are a good mum, a lovely person, a god damn warrior. Social Services won’t swoop your baby away and thinking distressing things doesn’t mean you will act on them. You are going through a hard time and you can’t just snap out of it. At the moment you are in a hole but you will get out of it.

You aren’t awful. Don’t feel ashamed. You are a good mum.

As the RCpsych pages say, PND or anxiety symptoms can look like these :

-Depressed
-Irritable
-Tired
-Sleepless
-Appetite changes
-Unable to enjoy anything Loss of interest in sex
-Negative and guilty thoughts
-You might think that you are not a good mother or that your baby doesn’t love you
-You may feel guilty for feeling like this or that this is your fault
-You may lose your confidence
-You might think you can’t cope with things.

Anxiety

Anxiety can be awful. For me, I had Postpartum Psychosis but once those symptoms cleared, I was left with a deep fear of my baby. The thought that he was now here forever filled me with such fear, that I felt like I was in a constant panic attack.

My doctor asked me if I felt like I wanted to flush the baby down the toilet – she could have phrased it a tad better but I didnt want rid of him forever. I was just very scared of him. I couldn’t dump him like a boyfriend I suddenly stopped liking and I couldn’t sell him like a flat that I had got bored with – he was here forever now and the fear of that consumed me . But my symptoms are only one experience.
Some anxiety symptoms are below – these again are taken from the RCpsych website.

-You may feel like:
-your baby is very ill
-your baby is not putting on enough weight
-your baby is crying too much and you can’t settle him/her
-your baby is too quiet and might have stopped breathing
-you might harm your baby
-you have a physical illness
-You will never get better.
-You may feel like you won’t ever not feel like this
-You may be so worried that you are afraid to be left alone with your baby.

When you feel anxious, you may have some of the following:
-racing pulse
-thumping heart
-breathless
-sweating
-fear that you may have a heart attack or collapse.

http://www.rcpsych.ac.uk/healthadvice/problemsdisorders/postnataldepression.aspx

Postpartum Psychosis

Action on Postpartum Psychosis says that ‘Postpartum Psychosis (PP) is a severe, but treatable, form of mental illness that occurs after having a baby. It can happen ‘out of the blue’ to women without previous experience of mental illness. There are some groups of women, women with a history of bipolar disorder for example, who are at much higher risk. PP normally begins in the first few days to weeks after childbirth. It can get worse very quickly and should always be treated as a medical emergency. Most women need to be treated with medication and admitted to hospital’.

I was one of those women .You may have heard of this illness for the first time since the soap Eastenders are currently featuring it as a major storyline. The charity Mind have been working with the BBC to get the portrayal of the illness right , as have APP and myself and another mum , Kathryn Grant , have been acting as consultants to the storyline and met with the researchers and actors to discuss our experience .

It is a scary illness – lots of varying symptoms as shown below – for me, I felt very scared of ‘something’. I hallucinated that I was floating and thought the sky was able to be ripped apart. I was terrified of being in the same room as my son and had bright flashes in front of my eyes. Again though, these are my symptoms. My friend spent a day thinking she was the President of North Korea which was terrifying enough in itself.

As they are the very best source of info on PP, here is APP’s list of symptoms:

There are a large variety of symptoms that women with PP can experience. Women may be:

Excited, elated, or ‘high’.
-Depressed, anxious, or confused / excessively irritable or changeable in mood.

Postpartum Psychosis includes one or more of the following:

-Strange beliefs that could not be true (delusions).
 -Hearing, seeing, feeling or smelling things that are not there (hallucinations).
 -High mood with loss of touch with reality (mania).
 -Severe confusion.

These are also common symptoms:

 -Being more talkative, sociable, on the phone an excessive amount.
 -Having a very busy mind or racing thoughts.
 -Feeling very energetic and like ‘super-mum’ or agitated and restless.
 -Having trouble sleeping, or not feeling the need to sleep.
 -Behaving in a way that is out of character or out of control.
 -Feeling paranoid or suspicious of people’s motives.
 -Feeling that things are connected in special ways or that stories on the TV or radio have special personal meaning.
 -Feeling that the baby is connected to God or the Devil in some way.

Treatment for PP

PP is classed as a medical emergency and if you suspect your wife, partner , daughter, sister or friend may have it , you need to take her to a GP or hospital. Mums and littles are often treated together in specialist psychiatric mother and baby units so to avoid the separation of mother and baby, wherever possible, by joint admission. I went into a mother and baby unit. It was fab.My bed wasnt chained to the wall and I wasn’t made to wear a straitjacket while watching the TV. It was safe , calm , warm and purposeful and it started my recovery.

I’ve written about my experience in the unit here which I hope you will take some comfort in https://smalltimemum1.wordpress.com/2015/11/22/i-need-a-bed-of-strawberry-creams-in-a-place-of-recovery-dreams/ .

Once discharged , the local specialized Perinatal Outreach and Community Psychiatric Team visited me every day at home.

Don’t be scared if you need to go into a mother and baby unit or see a perinatal team at home. They are Brillo-pads and will help you get better x

http://www.app-network.org/

Suicidal thoughts

When you are feeling in such a way as described, suicidal thoughts may come into your head. It is very important here that if you feel like you are going to hurt or harm yourself and or attempt to take your life, you need to see a doctor right that very instant.

– Its ok to call the GP urgently and say you need to see a doctor and tell them why
– It’s ok to go to casualty and tell them you are having these kinds of thoughts. You aren’t wasting their time.
– It’s ok to call your local mental health crisis team.

All these things are more than ok – they are essential. You need and deserve help. You can and will get better. You deserve to be alive. People want and need you to be alive . You are a good person and you aren’t well. I reached the depths where I thought suicide was the only way out as I couldnt see beyond my illness but there are services, medications , support networks that can help you recover and find your happy again.

If you are feeling like death is the only way out , you need urgent help. GP, Casualty,999. Contact them xx

The NHS has a very helpful page specifically for people who are experiencing suicidal thoughts . Take a look if you need to :

http://www.nhs.uk/Conditions/Suicide/Pages/Getting-help.aspx

I want to get better from my perinatal mental illness – what should I do ?

For all of the things listed above, it’s super important to seek help. There are lots of ways of doing this.

– Contact your midwife, doctor or health visitor and tell them you are worried that you may have a problem with your feelings during your pregnancy or after the baby is born. Perinatal means up to 12 months after your baby is born so even if your child isn’t a gurgling little baba anymore, doesn’t mean you can’t be suffering!
– Doctors are used to seeing mums with these symptoms. Most docs are fab, some, as is life, not so much so. Ask the receptionist who is nice, who has a kind ear and who won’t stare at a computer screen while you are with them. If it’s too much to say in person, write it down and pass it to the receptionist if you can.
– If you see a doctor as they are as useful as a chocolate condom, then book an appointment to see another doctor. You can see 7865 doctors if need be. You deserve to be listened to.
– If you are a friend or relative of the person who is unwell, you may have to encourage them to make the appointment and go with them as they may not be aware of, or believe that there is a problem.

Medicated and Mighty – what will get me better ?

There are many effective treatments for perinatal mental health problems such as medication, therapy and support from charities. The vast majority of women make a good recovery. This is an illness like any other and it is vital that you receive help if you need it, so do not be afraid to ask for it.

Medication – sometimes you won’t need this , sometimes you will.

I thank the medication gods – I took so much at one point I was a human maraca but I got better. I’m still on a low dose now – I see meds like that song ‘Tequila , it makes me happy’. There is no shame in needing meds – they can help the awful fog in your head clear so you can focus on recovery. If you broke your leg you would wear a cast. wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t roll down the street attempting to not land in a pile of dog poo because you thought you could pull yourself together , think happy thoughts and leg would magically be unbroken.

The charity Mind have a fab page on medication here which you may find useful to read http://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/drugs-and-treatments/medication/#.Vsbx1ErfWrU .

Breastfeeding and Medication

If you are breastfeeding but need meds, that’s ok. There are lots of medications you can take while nursing. I was on anti psychotics and anti anxiety meds that were compatable with feeding and if you are wondering what meds are ok , or your GP isn’t sure , then the person to contact is Wendy Jones. Wendy is fab , amazing and lovely. And super helpful . Her webpage is below and there is a tab with her contact details. If you are feeling too anxious to talk to Wendy, she is happy for you to send an email.

http://www.breastfeeding-and-medication.co.uk

Let’s talk – therapy !

You don’t have to be a millionaire to go therapy and you don’t have to lay back on a sofa while someone with a clipboard nods while you are in a puddle of tears . Therapy is amaze balls. It can get to the root of why you are feeling the way you are and then help you develop coping strategies . I had EMDR therapy which sounds ridiculous. – I had to follow a flashing light around the room to get over my trauma but it god damn worked. There are loads of different types of therapy so if offered to you , give it a whirl.

Again , the charity Mind have a great website on therapy http://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/drugs-and-treatments/talking-treatments/types-of-talking-treatments/#.Vsbz20rfWrU

I wrote a blog on treatment options last year. Take a look https://smalltimemum1.wordpress.com/2015/02/26/tear-up-those-anti-depressant-prescriptions-all-you-need-to-do-is-climb-into-a-magicians-hatnudge-the-rabbit-out-of-the-way-and-abracadabra-youre-cured-in-a-puff-of-pull-yourself-together-smo/

Sources of further help

Maternal OCD http://www.maternalocd.org/ : A charity set up by mothers recovered from perinatal OCD, who can provide support via email, twitter and Skype. For further details please contact: info@maternalocd.org

OCD Action  http://www.ocdaction.org.uk/ : A charity providing a dedicated OCD helpline, email support and advocacy service. Contact details: 0845 3906232; email: support@ocdaction.org.uk

Association for Postnatal Illness http://apni.org/ The UK’s leading PND charity provides telephone helpline, information leaflets and a network of trained volunteers who have themselves experienced PND.
Helpline: 020 7386 0868.

APP http://www.app-network.org Association of Postpartum Psychosis offers support to those suffering Postpartum Psychosis and their families. APP are the specialists in this illness and for correct advice , please contact them.

Depression Alliance http://www.depressionalliance.org/
Tel: 020 7407 7584; email: info@depressionalliance.org
Information, support and understanding for people who suffer with depression, and for relatives who want to help. Self-help groups, information, and raising awareness for depression.

Cry-sis http://www.cry-sis.org.uk
Helpline: 08451 228669. Provides self-help and support for families with excessively crying and sleepless and demanding babies.

Family Action https://www.family-action.org.uk/
Tel: 020 7254 6251. Support and practical help for families affected by mental illness, including ‘Newpin’ services – offering support to parents of children under-5 whose mental health is affecting their ability to provide safe parenting.

Home Start http://www.home-start.org.uk/
Tel: 0800 068 6368. Support and practical help for families with at least one child under-5. Help offered to parents finding it hard to cope for many reasons. These include PND or other mental illness, isolation, bereavement, illness of parent or child.

National Childbirth Trust http://www.nct.org.uk
Helpline: 0300 330 0700. Support and information on all aspects of pregnancy, birth and early parenthood. Local groups and telephone helplines.

MAMA – The “Meet A Mum Association” http://www.mama.co.uk   Created to try and help thousands of mothers who feel out of their depth, depressed or a little isolated when their babies are born
Helpline 0845 120 3746

The Samaritans http://www.samaritans.org/
24-hour helpline 08457 90 90 90 (UK) or 116 123 (Ireland); Email: jo@samaritans.org.
Confidential emotional support for those in distress who are experiencing feelings of distress or despair, including suicidal thoughts.

Mind – Mental Health Charity
http://www.mind.org.uk

Sane – Mental Health Charity
http://www.sane.org.uk

Rethink – Mental Health Charity
https://www.rethink.org

Bipolar UK – Mental Health Charity
https://www.bipolaruk.org

Tommys http://www.tommys.org Tommy’s pregnancy information service provides information and resources about mental health in pregnancy

Tommys Midwifery-led pregnancy line http://www.tommys.org/mentalhealth is available for anyone worried about their mental health in pregnancy, or that of another (0800 0147 800).

Birth Trauma Association http://http//www.birthtraumaassociation.org.uk/ supports all women who have had a traumatic birth experience. It is estimated that, in the UK alone, this may result in 10,000 women a year developing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).They offer emotional and practical support to women and also their families. They can offer email support to mums suffering , for more information please see this link http://www.birthtraumaassociation.org.uk/support.htm .

Mums Aid http://mums-aid.org Mums Aid provides inclusive and accessible psychological therapies for mothers experiencing a broad spectrum of emotional and mental health difficulties during pregnancy or postnatally.

Postpartum Progress http://www.postpartumprogress.com/ This may be based in America, but the Postpartum Progress websites offers one of the very best vast range of support resources and helpful tips for dealing with Postnatal Depression, Anxiety, OCD and Psychosis. Founded by warrior mum in chief Katherine Stone , it is a fantastic resource of info and empowering blog posts. Thank you Katherine.

International Help – Postpartum Support International
http://www.postpartum.net/get-help/locations/international/

Peer support 

Peer support can be incredible – talking to to someone who has been through what you’re going through and got better can give you real hope. However, do check that that if you are going to a peer support group , that they are are properly safeguarded with trained staff and volunteers, who have access to clinical supervision and support for themselves.

Please don’t attend support groups being run by mums who are still unwell or in someone’s front room . It’s not safe.

Association for Postnatal Illness http://apni.org
Helpline: 020 7386 0868. Provides telephone helpline, information leaflets and a network of volunteers who have themselves experienced PND.

Cocoon Family Support http://cocoonfamilysupport.org/
The fantabulous Cocoon Family support is a London based charity. It supports those affected by postnatal depression, and mothers who are struggling to deal with difficult emotions before and after birth. They provide a safe and supportive environment where families can get together with others who may be feeling similar to themselves. They also provide a range of services to aid and support recovery. They are based in SE1, NW1, NW3 and NW6 and can be accessed by people across London and its borders.

The Smile Group http://www.thesmilegroup.org/
The SMILE Group was co-founded by Natalie Nuttall and Ruth Eglin in 2011 after they both experienced PND and felt passionate about the need for parents to benefit from sustained peer support at a local level. They run support groups each week for mums in Cheshire East.

Macclesfield – every Friday,10am to 12pm
Congleton – every Wednesday, 10am to 12pm

They also have this brillo-pads checklist you can complete and bring to the doctor should you not know what to say or how to say how you are feeling http://www.thesmilegroup.org/help-from-the-professionals/

Raindrops to Rainbows http://www.raindropstorainbows.co.uk
Run by the lovely Steph who is trained to provide support and advice , R2R provide peer support to mums to be and mums in the North East. They currently have five groups covering Teeside, County Durham and South Tymside areas. The website has full details and there is a facebook page .

Open House Nottingham http://openhouse-notts.org/
Open House (OH) was founded by a group fab Mums in early 2012 with the aim of supporting those who are or have been affected by any psychological and emotional condition which has developed during pregnancy or during the postnatal period. These include antenatal depression, postnatal depression, anxiety & OCD.
They run drop in groups in Nottingham and details are here http://openhouse-notts.org/our-drop-in-groups/ .

Lotus Petal PND https://www.facebook.com/LotusPetalPND/
Support goup run every other Monday 9.30-11am at Little Lions Childresn Centre in Essex. Run by Sarah , who is the nicest lady in the world,she welcomes any mum in Essex needing support. Contact details are on the Facebook page.

Juno Perinatal Mental Health Support http://www.juno.uk.com/
Juno Perinatal Mental Health Support was founded in February 2015 by a group of mums in Edinburgh who all have personal experience of perinatal mental health difficulties.They are kind , lovely women. They support mums through
Weekly peer support groups across the city where we offer advice and information
One-to-one befriending through our outreach program
Access a subsidised counselling service out with our groups with a trained professional.
They run four groups and details are here http://www.juno.uk.com/our-groups/

Bluebell Care http://www.bluebellcare.org/
Bluebell is a charity based in Bristol supporting mums, dads and families who are affected by antenatal or post-natal depression. They run regular, free groups Mums’ Comfort Zone, together with free creche provision, in South, North and Central/East Bristol. They prioritise the support we are able to provide (due to funding constraints) as follows: young parents from the Hartcliffe/Withywood/Bishopsworth area in South Bristol, parents from the Henbury/Brentry area in North Bristol and parents from St Pauls, Easton, Montpelier’ and Stokes Croft area in Central/East Bristol.

They also offer 1:1, informal, support via the Bluebell Buddy who can arrange to visit mums at home and/or in their local area for a cuppa and a chat.Dads can also access support through their Dads’ Zone group.

If you would like more information on their services please contact the lovely Ruth Jackson
Telephone 07738628842 or Email info@bluebellcare.org

House Of Light http://www.pndsupport.co.uk/
Offering hope and support for women affected by Postnatal, Antenatal Depression & Anxiety in Hull. call: 0800 043 2031 or01482 580499
text: 07854 220790
email: help@pndsupport.co.uk

Mother for Mothers http://www.mothersformothers.co.uk/links.html
Support Group for mums in Bristol suffering from PND . Helpline details are here http://www.mothersformothers.co.uk/contact-us.html .

Homestart Bedfordshire http://www.home-startcentralbeds.org.uk/postnatal-depression-in-bedfordshire/
Home-Start Central Bedfordshire we run numerous pnd support groups throughout Central Bedfordshire, where women with similar experiences can meet and end the isolation of postnatal depression . Contact details – office@home-startcentralbeds.org.uk / 01582 660061

Journeys of Hope http://www.journeysofhope.co.uk/useful-links/
Contact info@journeysofhope.co.uk

Hertforshire Postnatal Illness Support http://www.postnatalillness.co.uk/
Can provide telephone support and Wwe run monthly support group meetings for mums with the severest forms of postnatal illness.

Acacia Family Support http://www.acacia.org.uk
Provide a free wide range of support and therapies to help muks recover from the symptoms associated with pre and postnatal depression. Their services are delivered across Birmingham and they include individual befriending sessions, group work therapy, telephone support, practical support in your own home and massage therapy for parents and your baby.

Cedar House Support http://www.postnataldepression.com/ runs PND support groups in the Surrey, Sussex and South London Areas. The groups are run by trained PND Counsellors.

The Guildford Group
This group runs from 10am to midday every Wednesday, term time only starting on January 13th 2016 at Boxgrove Sure Start Children’s Centre, Boxgrove Lane, Guildford, GU1 2TD. All groups are informal, confidential and a great support for the mothers. A crèche is provided and there is parking. Please contact Liz before attending: lwise@talktalk.net/ 07773283556.
The Balham Group
This group is at St Stephen’s Centre( next to The Weir Link Centre) Weir Road, SW12 0NU, starting on Friday 8th January 2016 .
This group will run every Friday , term time only from 9.30 to 11.30am, a crèche is provided and there is free parking.
It is necessary to book a place for this group , please contact Liz to do so. 07773 283556, lwise@talktalk.net
The Surrey Heath Group (Mytchett)
This group starts on Tuesday 12th January 2016 at Mytchett Children’s Centre, Hamesmoor Road, Mytchett, GU16 6JB and runs every Tuesday term time only from 12.30 to 2.30pm. A crèche is provided and there is free parking. Please contact Liz on 07773 283556 or lwise@talktalk.net for further details.

PSS PND Service http://www.psspeople.com
Offers 121 and group support in the Liverpool area plus Twitter & Facebook plus Professional Perinatal Training. 0151 702 5533

Butterflies PND http://www.claire-murphy.com/blog/womens-voices-pnd based in Watford offers fantastic support for mums affected by Perinatal Mental Illness

Kyra Women’s Project http://www.kyra.org.uk/ is based in York/Selby and offers a range of support services.

Bluebell PND Support http://www.kyra.org.uk/based in Glasgow offer support and counselling. You ca self-refer and referrals are welcome from health, social work and other professional agencies.Referrals can be made by telephoning 0141 221 3003.

PTSD Support Group – Dr Georgina Cliford runs a small therapy group for up to 4 women from Tuesday 8th March 2016 onwards in London. It will be weekly on a Tuesday afternoon (with some flexibility depending on availability, childcare issues etc.) For more info please see http://www.birthtraumaassociation.org.uk/news/news.asp?id=96

Pregnancy Sickness Support https://www.pregnancysicknesssupport.org.uk/offer support to mums struggling with pregnancy sickness/ Hyperemesis . They have a national support network for women suffering any degree of nausea and vomiting in pregnancy to access support and comfort at times of isolation and distress https://www.pregnancysicknesssupport.org.uk/help/supporters-network/ .

#PNDHOUR And let’s not forget the amazing #pndhour run by the beautiful Rosey @pndandme. A weekly Twitter chat , it takes place every Wednesday between 8-9pm and a different subject relating to perinatal mental health is discussed .

Mums, currently ill or recovered , health care professionals and family members all take part to discuss experiences , share knowledge and provide hope. Join in if you can , it’s brilliant . Rosey has written a little explanation of it here http://pndandme.co.uk/pndhour-explained/.

I grabbed some of the charity details from Roseys blog , so thank you Rosey.

Am I alone? Can I read other people’s experiences?

You aren’t alone . You most definitely aren’t and there are lots of stories online from people who have written about their experiences. Remember, reading things could trigger thoughts and feelings so take care of you and only read if you feel ok to. If at any point you want to stop, then do. That’s ok.

My blog is here. I talk about being ill with psychosis and anxiety , recovery , medication and eastenders https://smalltimemum1.wordpress.com

The lovely Rosey’s blog is here and it’s a fab resource on all things Perinatal http://pndandme.co.uk. Roseys page also has a fab tab which lists lots of brilliant blogs from those who have suffered http://pndandme.co.uk/pndfamily-help-support/ .

You will get better , you arent alone. You may slide up and down the snakes and ladders of the game of recovery but you will get there .

Dont give up xx

Well melt me in butter and roll me in nuts, this illness will release its clutch.

One of the best quotes I have heard about recovery I read while I was ill and in hospital. It said that recovery is like a game of snakes and ladders. Sometimes you slide down the snake or fall off the ladder but you never go back to the start . And it’s right . This week , I have been reminded that as well as I am , I still suffer from anxiety when things get too much. I’ve been attempting to be superwoman in a pair of pyjamas and stilettos and have been so busy in work, I may have to wear ear muffs to catch the steam coming out of my ears . I have been saying yes to every interview that health professionals and journalist who wants to talk about mental health have asked me for and while this is wonderful, it’s exhausted me. I’ve decided that this is obviously also the time to become a school governor as well and read 678 pages of guidance on the optimum temperature in class rooms and attempting to work my 33 hours a week in work. Which I have done 42 of this week so far. It’s also the anniversary of my last pregnancy which didn’t work out a couple of years ago. It’s no surprise I’ve had a little wobble really is it ?

I’ve cried this week. I cried last night. I’ve had two panic attacks. But I’m ok. A few yrs ago I would have thought , oh god, John can’t go to work and leave me because I might have an overwhelming urge to cook 6 battered fish fillets in the oven for three hours before throwing them in the garden alongside ordering 8 juicers from the shopping channel again. What if I decide to throw myself in the middle of the road holding onto his ankles not letting him go to work because my head felt like it was being used as a drum by the mental illness drumstick. Again.

Last night , I said to John , it’s too much. I’m doing too much. My little head is telling me it’s time to slow down.and then I said, are you worried about me? And he said no, I’m not at all. Instead of staying on the train and waiting for it to crash into the wall and breaking into little pieces that will take a hell of a long time to cobble back together again , this time, you jumped off the train on to a soft landing. You have realised something isn’t right before loco kicks in. Yes, you are crying and yes , it’s not nice feeling like this but we are going to write a list of what is overwhelming you, what you can cut out and how we can make things better.

And tonight I feel more in control. My list is complete and there is a fair amount on it I need to tell to jog on . And that’s ok. The world isn’t going to stop turning because I might slip some deadlines. And that’s ok. Tonight , I’ve had a night on the sofa with my little boy and I’ve drank some Buck’s Fizz and eaten a chocolate croissant. I may have also eaten a Hershey’s chocolate bar and some skittles but that isn’t important . I’ve been on a spinach juice diet for four weeks and have lost the grand total of half a bloody stone.i should be a bleedin supermodel by now with all this green shit I’ve been drinking and literally shitting but no, I’m still folding my stomach up like a parcel. I’ve had a blocked milk duct and dug out an old electric toothbrush and have been on all fours in the doggy style position on the living room floor massaging said milk duct with my buzzing friend , resulting in my child’s train set being sprayed all over. Slightly different to last Saturday night where I think I was drinking a piña colada out of a coconut shell balanced on my bustville.

I feel a little more like eve. The last few days has made me understand that I need to keep a slightly open eye on my anxiety but in a strange way it’s also made me realise that I am ok. I have always feared feeling anxiety again as I have feared getting really ill again like I did after I had Joe. But what the last few days has made me realise is that I am ok and if I’m not , well , that can be helped and sorted like it was before. I need to do my best to ensure I stay as healthy as I can but also remember that if and when things do feel like they are a bit like a tangled up hair brush, that I seek help the unravel those hairs as soon as I can.

So tonight I feel,happy and healthy. I’m going to take some self care days off work and if I feel things creeping up on me again , I’ll take some time away to sleep and preserve my marbles.

And all this shows me how recovery is possible. I’ve said on a blog post before, I’ve totally recovered from psychosis and the catastrophic anxiety I had when I was unwell but I’ll always have a level of anxiety. But I have recovered to a point where I can lead a normal life. I am sometimes medicated but I am always mighty. I have no shame in taking meds to get me through my bad times and still being on meds doesn’t mean I’m not recovered. Meds gave me my life back and they helped me find myself again . The crazy,loud,wild girl is back and is better than ever in some ways as I truly do know my strength. I am a bloody warrior. I was incredibly ill and now I’m eve , with a light sprinkle of once yearly anxiety. I can cope with that if I deal with it right and recovery feels legit. I feel like I have combat force!

I am back at work, I go out with my mates, I bleach my hair, I shave my legs, I have no shame, I do ridiculous things and find myself in situations that no one else thinks are real until they spend some time with me. Two weeks ago I spent some time with my #pndfamily girlfriends at elaine hanzaks book launch. I hadn’t even got to the venue and I was almost knocked out cold by the taxi door. I couldn’t work out how to open it , launched myself forward and banged my enormous forehead towards it. I feel sorry for the taxi really – I have quite the forehead and it was quite the bang. I fell backwards careering towards my friend Pauline and then fell out of the cab. Not ten minutes later , I walked out of the loo with my cardigan tucked into my frilly knickers and Pauline the fairy godmother came to my rescue again and retrieved and saved my cardigan from being eaten by my arse and my dignity from being ruined in front of 200 other people. Off I toddled without a care in the world, diet coke in one hand,lipgloss in the other with Pauline laughing behind me.

It’s mental health awareness week. And from a personal point, I kind of feel like I have a duty to raise awareness of the mental health condition I suffered from, which was postpartum psychosis but also all perinatal mental health illnesses. And then all mental health conditions. I was incredibly lucky to eventually get help- I say eventually as it took two months of me being completely off the planet in my mind and us having to move 200 miles to get me into a specialised psychiatric mother and baby unit. I had been ignored by health visitors , midwives and doctors for those first eight weeks of my sons life and had spiralled into a midst of such horrific psychosis that I thought I was locked in a coffin alive . I had hallucinations that I was trapped in the world and felt terrified of being alive . The only logical way out , or so I thought, was to die. To end my life. I felt an uncontrollable fear all day every day and night for two months of living . I was afraid of being alive and being near my son and could think of no other way out.

While in this hell, a doctor asked me if I had planned my own suicide to which I said no. She then told me , after hearing how I had been dreaming of death , thinking I was in a coffin , scared of my own baby and felt like I was trapped in the world , said I was therefore low risk and sent us home. Nil points for that Dr of the year as the next day, John took me to psychiatric outpatients in Nottingham , 200 miles from where we live and refused to leave until I was assessed . One hour later I was in the mother and baby unit.

And my recovery started there. It was a psychiatric ward but I had my own room,there was a kitchen with chocolate biscuit filled cupboards, a TV room and curry menus to order dinner from. My own room sounds like a hotel away from home but for me this was terrifying. I couldn’t be on my own with my son as I was scared of him so the very idea of sharing a room on my own with him was beyond scary. So the nurses let me keep my door open . Throughout the night , a nurse would sit on a chair that held my door open and cuddled me when the panic and fear took over or when I felt my mind going into another world. This level of care ,support and love that was shown to me ,alongside a wonderful concoction of medication meant that just a week later, I felt brave enough to to close my bedroom door with Joe in there with me . Yes I shook, yes I sat on the bed terrified but I was in there on my own with him and it felt amazing. A little while later , the nurse knocked on my door and came in . She gave me an enormous tight cuddle and said well done eve , that’s bloody brilliant . I cried into her shoulder and let out a wail. I had done it. I had been on my own with Joe and it was the biggest turning point in my illness.

My recovery went on from there. I went up and down the game of snakes and ladders in my brain and have to say , I felt a little like i was constantly laddering some expensive pairs of tights. I’d carefully broach things like I was putting on a pair of thigh fat sucking tights and then when they were on , they were bloody ladder all down my leg. I would feel devastated if I had a bad day but my therapist worked very hard to show me that a bad day in recovery doesn’t mean you won’t get better. I think bad days have that weird silver lining of making you stronger. It doesn’t feel like it at the time but when i emerge from bad days, I feel that little bit more hopeful that I’ve beaten it again .

Of course I would have preferred to never have got ill but I do feel like I have gained a massive understanding of my own feelings and thoughts and this week has certainly made me realise that when the chips are down , it’s sad and a little scary at times but that it does pass and it passes pretty quickly with the right care and management. I feel blessed that I have come out of the worst time in my life but that that time has now had a profound impact on the life I lead now. I know my own capabilities but what I think I have gained is a compassion for others and understanding of people’s thoughts and feelings that I didn’t ever consider before. I want others to read my story and to think, well melt me in butter and roll me in nuts, if she managed to get better after attempting to climb out of her window, dress up as Mary poppins, bark on her in laws bed and consider ending it all for good, then maybe I can get better.

I stand up and yell my story from any roof top I can . I jump on health professionals at mental health conferences and harp on about how people in the midst of mental illness need help, compassion, a hug, someone’s shoulder to cry on , a listening ear , a lets get better plan from a doctor because I hear so many stories of them and their feelings being brushed off. I was told the most ridiculous things from doctors who clearly didn’t give a flying caboodle what was wrong with me and wanted to get me out of their room so they could go back to buying a zigzag sleeping bag of eBay and that isn’t good enough.

If you are suffering , have hope and remember it can and will get better. You may recover completely or you may recover to a manageable level and either of these are ok, I promise you. Dont feel bad about feeling bad – it’s not your fault and with the help of meds, therapy,kindness, love and support from family, friends and health professionals , you will get there.

I am terrible at board games. I never understand the rules and always end up back at the start wondering why everyone else is at the top of the board and I’m at the bottom , all sorrowful but that’s not the case in the game of recovery, which is the hardest game I have ever played. It is however , the game I have won the most.

Happy mental health awareness week. If a GP isn’t listening to you, write I don’t feel well across your face with lipstick. They won’t ignore you then. Do it with the doctors lipstick and you really will get their attention. You deserve help , you are entitled to it and you need it. And there is nothing , absolutely nothing to be ashamed about.

Eeny meeny miny mo , where in this postcode lottery shall I go ? Sprig of lavender anyone ?

Around one in four people in the uk will experience a mental health illness each year. Whether mild or severe ,short or long term, these can be scary, upsetting and soul destroying . Especially if you can’t access help to recover from or manage it.

Five yrs ago , I was admitted to a psychiatric mother and baby unit to begin my recovery from a postnatal mental illness. I had such catastrophic anxiety that I couldn’t be near my child, dress myself without help and became partial to running into the street a la a wild animal screaming ‘I am trapped in the world I am trapped by the clouds take me away please’ . One of the worst memories of my illness however was the need to travel 200 miles across the uk to access treatment as no one in my area knew how to treat me and there were no treatment options available.

Thank god we did travel and get me into a specialist psychiatric mother and baby unit because if we hadn’t I would be dead. My son would have no mother. And this is not good enough. Getting treatment shouldn’t be a cruel game of lotto , depending on where you buy your ticket but it unfortunately is in the uk. It’s as though you need to ensure you aren’t hit with a mental illness that can’t be treated where you live . Maybe the government could make treatment scratch cards ? Three matching hospital icons and you’re a winner! The papers could come and take your picture with you dressed up in a hospital gown with your antidepressants in your hand . Ooh lifechanging !

Prior to me getting ill, the 89 year old local legend that was scooter lady, complete with gold lame jumpsuit , blue permed hair and a 50 yr old toy boy balancing on the back of said scooter was the local talking point as she zoomed around and then the lady who lived to the left of us who used to hang out of window between 11-1 everyday throwing frozen fish fingers into her garden for fun was a close second. But they were knocked off their platforms of fame by me , Eve , the girl who had a baby,who regretted it, took all her clothes off,tried to climb out of a window and then eventually was diagnosed with postpartum psychosis.

And I’m all singing and dancing recovered now. Which is a good thing as experiencing a mental illness is the single most terrifying thing I have ever and I guarantee will ever face in my little life. And this life is one I hold so precious as it’s one I seriously considered ending. The day I went into the unit is the day I announced to my partner john that I wanted to die and I meant it.i could not face the endless feelings of terror,not wanting to sleep at night because I feared the fear I would feel when I would wake up in the morning and I simply couldn’t cope with the prospect of battling these feelings forever.i couldn’t live for another 60 yrs feeling like this as I couldn’t even get through one day at that point.

I was very very ill.I wasn’t only scared of my son, terrified at the sudden realisation that he was here forever and there was no running away from that except through either adopting him or me ending my life but I was also confused. I thought I was floating , I woke up thinking I was in a coffin, I was convinced at one point that cling film was over my mouth stopping me from breathing. All while my newborn son was lying there needing me . This was the most important time in my life, his life and our families life and I was experiencing the worst possible time, so bad, you couldn’t make it up.

I needed help. Urgent help and so I went to the doctor a couple of days after my son was born to say I was feeling odd.i had flashes in front of my eyes and felt very scared of something. The doctor said, let’s wait and see how you are in a week. I went back this time with john who said I was acting odd, pacing up and down the living constantly and wouldn’t look at the baby. ThIs doctor said I must be tired as motherhood can be draining “sleep when the baby sleeps” was uttered to me and I was told to jog on in a more clinical , fake smile way which I think actually meant , you have just had a baby , deal with it , I have 57 more patients waiting to see me me bye bye.

For the next six weeks, I went to see a gp approx three times a week,joke I do not. I was honest about my feelings and john was continually saying ‘she is saying she has made a terrible mistake in having a child,she tried to climb out of the window to get away for the walls in the house,I had to carry her in the house after she ran into the road with no clothes on and she thinks she is trapped in the world’. Little game of mental health roulette here … Do you think the docs said a) what the dickens, get this woman to the hospital and some specialist mental health help straight away or 67) make a cake and put some mascara on and shown the door? Bingo bango, if you chose a – I appreciate that but it’s a shame as it was wrong. Doctors told me I was fine and to go home .

We hit the realisation that no one could treat me for my illness as it appears if you live where I do, there is no specialist perinatal support. That’s good isn’t it . So we got on the train and travelled the 161 miles to Nottingham, where we had found out there was a unit and where johns family live , complete with our five week old baby, me wandering around muttering ‘I can’t look at the baby,can’t look at the baby,can’t look at the baby’ and the pet hamsters, little elvis and turnip. As we walked into my in laws house I moved their armchair into the middle of the room. As much as I would love to say that I secretly yearn to be interior designer and I moved the seat to get the ultimate feng shui in the room , this is wrong. I wasn’t trying to ying and yang the energy to harmonise the room. I have no clue why I did it but I did and then sat in it and demanded an ambulance be called to take me away from the terror.

A week later, I woke up in the night and john found me sitting up in the dark,staring into space.I started scratching myself on the face and said I felt like I was in a coffin.i said I wanted to die and didn’t know what else to do. John phoned nhs direct who advised we went to an out of hours clinic to be seen. It was probably about 3am , john couldn’t drive then and the baby was crying. John woke his dad up, joe was bundled into his car seat and I sat slumped in the car in the front seat as I didn’t want to be near the baby.in my pyjamas and a pair of flip flops.

We waited ages and eventually were seen by a lady doctor. She didn’t look at me once during the consultation, spoke to john almost the entire time and just stared at her screen , tapping away on her keyboard. John blurted out everything I had been saying and doing and I was rocking back and forth. Face at the screen she asked if I had planned my own suicide as yet and I said no. Wrong answer, I didn’t win the mystery prize which I had hoped would be admission to hospital. No no no. The million dollar drop question had been answered incorrectly and she delivered her response. “As you haven’t planned your own suicide , you are low risk. Go home get some sleep,things will be better in the morning .” She opened the door and waved us out. Is this the time to take an ,ahem, mental note? Note to self, next time I am too scared to breathe because I’m frightened of living , I will sit down how I plan on ending things. Should I start researching ? What about if I show the doctor the plan and they critique it? What if they say, nice try but not good enough, there is no way doing that will end your life.come back with a better plan and proof you have tried to action it and now were talking! Back to the drawing board for me on that one then.

The next day is when I totally flipped my little lid and john had had enough of it. Not of me , though he probably had at that point , who could blame him, but with the total lack of anyone knowing how to treat me. He took me to psychiatric outpatients and refused to leave until I was seen. Within the hour I was admitted to a mother and baby unit and my recovery began.We stayed in Nottingham for a few more months while I got to the stage where I could be on my own with joe and then made a move back to London. I worked very hard to get better, I did everything that was asked of me . It wasn’t easy it was actually terrifying. I was scared to be near my own child and that’s the biggest thing in the world. But I worked hard- I had to spend thirty seconds a day on my own with him at first,then walk around the garden, then walk down the street with him. I had a few public meltdowns at the postbox ten steps from my in laws house as fear struck me . But, I did it and was so pleased to be going home. And I was proud of me. And rightfully so.

So, when the unit agreed I could go back to London, they wrote lots of very good explanatory letters to my local mental health team, saying they recommended therapy for me. Coming back however was problematic – as soon as the mother and baby unit discharged me from their outpatients and my care was taken over by the local mental health team in London, things turned sour.

I still to this day, over five years after my son was born, haven’t been seen as an outpatient at my local London mental health team.I was seen once after john called them to try and set up outpatient care but it was never set up.I don’t need it now, I’m better, but give me strength. This is ridiculous. This was my life in their hands. The mother and baby unit sent numerous letters asking for me to have outpatient care – but this never happened. I was very lucky that the mother and baby unit agreed to keep me on as an outpatient for a year due to the fact that the team in London basically filed all the letters about me in the bin but this meant I had to travel up there once a week to see the doctors there. This was a massive expense to us as a family , around £200 a week, but one that was essential to ensure I was fully supported while my recovery was on-going.

Before this happened though, on our return to London , I went to the doctors clutching my notes from the mother and baby unit. They had all the info on the doctors needed. “We recovered Evelyn is referred for CBT as soon as possible to build on the good progress she has been making while in the unit and on her discharge”. I saw a GP. I’ll call him Dr Baldy Head. I crept in with Joe and started talking. “I , erm, I haven’t been well. And erm, I felt really low when I gave birth and then started to have all these weird thoughts and feelings and basically cracked up. And I saw lots go doctors here and no one knew how to treat me because it turns out I had postpartum psychosis . So we moved to Nottingham and I registered temporarily with a GP there and went into a mother and baby unit. We were there for four months and we are back now and the psychiatrists there have written this letter to show you the medication that I’m on and to refer me for counselling”. Baldy Head took the letter off me, scanned it flicked it with his finger and scoffed. Actually scoffed and said “and you expect me to do what with this?”. I started crying. I didn’t want it but I felt so embarrassed. I’d just told him something that was really difficult to say and he just made me feel like a child on that god awful Super Nanny programme. I felt like I was sat on the loathesome naughty chair as he said ” who am I supposed to refer you to ? It says you are on tablets so wait for them to kick in”. I said but they have kicked in and how I am now is because of the meds. Four months ago I couldn’t look at Joe without feeling cold all over and cemented to the ground with fear. Now, I’m nervous and scared but I’m getting through the day.I just need to learn some coping techniques. That when he said ” women become mothers, that’s what happens young lady. Perhaps you should have thought of this before you got yourself pregnant”. He handed the letter back to me , laughed and said “refer you for counselling ,is that what I’m here for” and said we are done here. Thanks doc. Next time, I’ll cross my legs and chew on some smarties to ensure i never get myself in this situation again.

I talk about perinatal mental health as it’s what I suffered from but issues around treatment aren’t just in this field – it appears people with illnesses that fall into the mental health bracket struggle to get help more than if they were to have a physical illness.

There are currently 17 specialist psychiatric mother and baby units in the uk equalling 125 beds. If you think ,over 1400 women a yr in the uk get postpartum psychosis and this is deemed as a medical emergency and mothers can be treated in the units. Combine that with the amounts that get other perinatal mental illness that requires in depth treatment and you’ll see this isn’t a lot of beds at all. I got an e for gcse maths but even I can work out without the use of a calculator that we are a few beds down. There is no unit in Northern Ireland and over the last few yrs some units have closed. But there are still lots of ill women. Tis does not make sense.

There was a recent report from the Maternal Mental Health Alliance that revealed that “more 1 in 10 women develop a mental illness during pregnancy or within the first year after having a baby. If untreated, these perinatal mental illnesses can have a devastating impact on the women affected and their families and that In the UK, mental illness in pregnant and postnatal women often goes unrecognised, undiagnosed and untreated.”

They created a map which showed how ridiculously patchy the current provision of services is. The precise words about this are ‘This means a postcode lottery determines whether women receive the care they need or not’. Have a look. It’s not coloured in red because it’s a fabulous colour. It’s almost all red to show where there are no services – http://everyonesbusiness.org.uk/?page_id=349

This is beyond ridiculous. I have now joined up with charities and others with lived experience of perinatal mental illness to form the perinatal mental health partnership and we are creating an awareness campaign. As a result if my work in this, I now get to go to lots of conferences and see lots of medical bods saying how wonderful things are . Yes, having been to approx 47 mental health conferences this yr where I have met countless nhs chiefs and leads in suits nodding with a fixed smile , I am aware our government are cash strapped. I have a few in tact brain cells that refused to budge with the illness. I’m stubborn like that.i know we have no money as it’s all gone on duck houses and moats and pay rises to people who don’t really deserve it . However , have we really reached that ludicrous point where people actually have to plan their own suicide or fail at the deed working before we can offer them any help??? This isn’t masterchef , it’s not a gameshow,its not winner takes all but it feels like it. And I’m shit at quizzes, I always lose. Surely, in the midst of pathways and processes there could be a fairly simple overall, hello doctors, please don’t chuck a patients mental health symptoms in the dustbin and leave them to rot which will eventually mean they disintegrate into nothing. If someone says I am feeling so low I can’t see anyway out, do something.

If I went to the doctor and said erm, my vagina smells bad and I’m worried about it , I doubt the gp would say, ooh, why don’t you hang a sprig of lavender off it, let it breeze slightly in the wind,spritz it with a bit of air freshener and then say and we can’t help you anymore until you have reached the point where you have ripped said vagina off and flushed it down the toilet. Thankfully, this particular scenario hasn’t afflicted me and I’m not sure how to attach lavender to my lady garden , and how on earth would you do your jeans up but you know what I mean.

I was prodding my boobs one sunny day two years ago. They are massive anyway and have dribs and drabs of milk in them and seem like one big mammory as it is but I felt a lump previous prodding investigations hadn’t found. Hmm, this means I should book a doctors appointment I said to myself. I phoned the docs and was given an appointment that afternoon – “can’t take risks with these things can we darlin’ ” the receptionist told me. On seeing the doctor and her have a prod, she said , ya there seems to be a lump but I’m no expert on these things so we must send you to the breast cancer clinic urgently to get you seen. She wrote out a fax in front of me ( a fax , in 2013) and helpfully put the words “suspected cancer” in big bold black capitals at the top “so no one misses it”.

I was called into an appointment the next day and had all sorts of tests and spoke to lots of experts. I was given the all clear in a fairly short space of time and I left the experience feeling very thankful for our wonderful health service , which it is and the doctors dealing with a possibly awful situation so quickly. Even more startling though as this was six months after I had gone to hospital after having a relapse of really bad anxiety when I found out I was pregnant again. I was treated in such a slap dash appalling way that I had lost all faith and bang my head on the table of all the nhs chiefs who, after people kill themselves because of a mental health problem say “lessons will be learned from this”. Lovely words chief but I’ve heard them oodles of times. When will these lessons be learned? Maybe they should be learnt in school for the chiefs of the futures so it’s embedded in them.

I found out I was cheggars again one boring office afternoon when thought I had a wee infection and the gp wanted me to do a pregnancy test before I was put on antibiotics.i announced to my friend Julie who sits opposite me , I’m going to get a brownie from pret and then I’ve got to piss on a stick to make sure I’m not with child. Oh how we laughed! Pregnant , imagine , lol!!!

But oh how I wept when, brownie in mouth , pants round ankles, stick wet with wee , I saw two blue lines appear. My three years of recovery from anxiety from that very second kicked in again. Another baby , another baby,no no no. I can’t do this. I’m well, I’ve got used to having joe.

Within a week, I had developed such a terrible fear of being pregnant, John found me slumped next to the radiator talking to myself having called the Samaritans. Who were fantastic. I was back in the fresh hell I was in after Joe.I was in such a state ,I had been signed off work and was finding being near joe too much to deal with. In the midst of all this , we were then told the pregnancy wasn’t forming properly anyway and actually had to be removed . It took three attempts to remove it as it was growing in such an odd place and the three operations took six weeks altogether . By the end of this awful time of finding out I was pregnant,not wanting it, to finding out I couldn’t have it but knowing it was in me , growing to think actually I think I do want to have it ,to then having to have three termination attempts , I had completely lost the plot. And ended up in accident and emergency again.

What a fun day that was . We arrived at midday and I left at 4am the next day- having received no help. Casualty had no idea how to help me , after spending four hours there and sent me to the local inpatient local psychiatric unit. We saw lots of people with clipboards saying in whispers ” what are we supposed to with her” and the fixed smile brigade came out again. “Let’s go home and get some rest shall we Evelyn,will all seem a bit better in the morning , promise”. No no no no no no no no,I wasn’t leaving until someone helped me.

John had to leave at 5pm to get our son. He was in tears leaving me , I was in tears him going but was assured the duty psychiatrist would see me ‘soon’. I then sat on a chair of the foyer of the unit for twelve hours. Twelve hours.i am prone to exaggerate but there is no need to now as it was that bad. I was spoken to three times by staff , where they informed me they were sure I would be seen at some point and also to say “do you think you could stop crying , you are upsetting the staff”. I.do.not.joke. I had a lovely conversation with a young girl who had tried to take her life a week earlier – a beautiful clever girl who simply said ‘I don’t know why I tried to do it , I just don’t want to be here in this life’ and a man who told me he was Jesus. I wish he had been – he could have saved me.

The duty psychiatrist turned up 11 hours after I got there and spent less then five minutes with me. Was told they didn’t have the facilities to help me and they didn’t know who could but they would pay for my cab home. And that was it. I arrived home at 4.45 am and four hours later we were on our way to Nottingham again and went straight to casualty. Within two hours I saw a psychologist who arranged for me to have emdr therapy, I was put back on meds and my journey to full recovery started. Again , I had to travel to Nottingham every week for my emdr and thank god I did.it saved my life and it made me truly recover. Thank The Lord . The Lord who runs Nottinghams mental health services.

I was in the audience for the brilliant Victoria Derbyshire programme a couple of weeks ago about mental health. Check it out on I player if you haven’t seen it – almost two hours of brave people from all walks of life, all backgrounds, varying professions, discussing their mental health. While they were all doing this, I was adjusting my boobs as the photo above shows. I also delivered a gold medal hand up in the air performance. A common theme was the struggle for treatment that doesn’t seem to happen to people with a physical illness. And it genuinely seems to be because people think having a mental illness is literally all in your head . Broke an arm? It gets set in plaster to fix it. Small willy ? You can get it made longer! But problems in your head , oh , well getting help for that depends on the pathway of care your area offer and blah blah blah postcode lottery blah blah.or we could just all pull ourselves together couldn’t we ?

Thee was one amazing girl called Jo who made me and everyone else cry with her brave story . I am in awe of her determination and her openness. She had been diagnosed with anorexia and was around four stone. But wait for the bombshell . She got community care with her local mental health service pretty quickly, but it was not until her BMI had dropped below a certain low point that she was admitted for the care she needed. Might as well dear, sorry , I can see you are a bit on the thin side but not quite thin enough to get help. Can you starve yourself a bit more please? This is ridiculous! Jo says. “Why should I need to get as ill as that to need inpatient treatment?” And she is right.

I know there are all these lines around how mental health services are organised in each local area and how this may differ across places. As the NHS say on their webpage ‘This means some may not cover all mental health conditions, or only deal with people of a certain age’. This .must.change. I know resources are a problem, money is a problem but people have problems that need help. Surely treating things before people get to considering suicide is better than them getting to that point. Because if you have planned it , you might bloody well do it which is devastating . And once someone is gone , they can’t come back.

Simon Stevens , chief executive of the NHS says in the Achieving Better Access to Mental Health Services by 2020 report that “Mental health problems are the largest single cause of disability, representing a quarter of the national burden of ill-health, and are the leading cause of sickness absence in the UK.This makes it all the more indefensible that there is such a large “treatment gap” with most people with mental health problems receiving no treatment and with severe funding restrictions compared with physical health….That is why, achieving “parity of esteem” between mental and physical health services is so important for the NHS, and for the nation.

This document therefore sets out some of the concrete next steps we are committed to helping lead over the next five years. NHS England looks forward to working with our partners to deliver this critical agenda” and I hope this indeed plays out as planned.

Getting help shouldn’t be a flip of a coin decision. This isn’t like a supermarket saying sorry we have run out of flapjacks but our branch down the road has some , this is people’s lives and they deserve better.

I have made a vlog of my experience http://youtu.be/Kn6pgSUP5YI

Exercise makes me happy.As does Gin.As does bouncing around on my hubbys balls.But anti-depressants kept me alive……All hail meds and all who sail in them.

I saw a post on twitter the other day and it struck me. It didn’t make me want to throw chocolate profiteroles at the iPad screen, which would actually be a terrible waste but it didn’t make me want to lick it either. It actually got me quite irritated because it insinuated that I , as well as millions of others had failed in some way,when actually we haven’t . We’ve done what we have for the good of ourselves and those around us.

It didn’t say ‘Jamie Dornan doesn’t love you’ which would have made me throw all my mummy porn into a Sainsbury’s carrier bag and given it to the charity shop down the road. Don’t know about you but I’d happily buy ‘Housewives in Hounslow’ for 5p. My mind is wandering . What it actually said that was ‘you never need anti depressants to get cope with mental illness’ and the article suggested that to take them indicated some sort of weakness, that all they do is blur your mind from the reality of the real torture you are enduring and that if you take them, you aren’t ever actually better and you should feel like a failure as you haven’t managed to ying and yang yourself out of the depressive limbo you have got yourself tangled into.

I have played the game twister and got myself into all sorts of gymnastic poses and managed to fall out of them easily and hysterically. In my younger , wilder days,I thought I was some sort of karma sutra connoisseur and was able to twist my body into all sorts of shapes while swinging from the lampshade. I held back on wearing crotchless pants but you get my drift. However, untangling the wires in my mind that had been jumbled up was not half as pleasant , not at all easy, took two and a half years and it was not something that I could do with simply me,myself and I. I couldn’t just go to sleep in spring and emerge in summer , with my brain in good working order. I needed something to start my recovery,

My recovery and/or management of the mental illness that hit me happened as a result of numerous things. I wasn’t able to just ‘get over it’ or pull myself together. A nice brisk walk and a hot chocolate didn’t sweeten the blow and I wasn’t able to mediate my mind into a state of hypnotic happiness – if I could have , believe me, I would have swung many watches in front of my face.

First of , it took medication. Lots of medication. I’m not ashamed to say that. At one point , I was taking antidepressants three times a day and they were as essential as my three meals. I also took anti psychotics at other points throughout the day, so these were like my snacks, to calm me when I was becoming manic. My friend Rachel reminds of the text messages I would send her while I was in the midst of my psychosis “they were pages long with no punctuation and made no sense. You also kept repeating yourself over and over”. I sense my blog posts may be slightly similar with my keyboard warrior ramblings but you catch my drift. My mind was like a collapsed angel delight. Pink and quivering.

For those of you who don’t know, five years ago, I was diagnosed with Postpartum Psychosis ,anxiety connected to the birth of a child and generalised anxiety disorder. For the first six weeks after my sons birth,I was literally wandering around in another reality. When he was six weeks old, I was hospitalised in a psychiatric mother and baby unit to begin my long road to recovery.

Before I made my not so merry way into the unit, my husband and I spent a fair while attempting to convince people I needed medication. Relatives said I didn’t need it- I mean, imagine , the shame of taking medication to make you feel better, how embarrassing. Then as some of you know from another of my blog posts, certain esteemed members of the medical profession thought that Betty Crockers Brownie mix contained the healing powers of a sunshine happy wizard and encouraged me to whip up a Victoria sandwich. Apparently, devouring it would make me happy, which would stop me feeling sad. Problem is , I felt more than sad . I felt like I wanted to die. As much as I like a moist chocolate sponge , I failed to understand how cracking some eggs would stop me cracking up.

I was, when my son was maybe two weeks old, grudgingly (by the doctor, not me) prescribed an anti-depressant. Yippee. ‘It kicks in in two weeks and you will be right as rain again. No more wanting to flush the baby down the toilet feelings for you young lady” and off we went. I waited two torturous weeks. Torturous for me and my husband who had to endure several of my mini meltdowns along the way. Bar the constant terror I felt as I attempted to live minute by minute , hour by hour, I was having really awful panic attacks. My eyes would develop tunnel vision, my ears would feel muffled. I felt like a great cloud of world ending doom was filling my body and start to shake. I would try to scream and would scratch at my mouth shouting I’m trapped take me away. I developed an unfortunate need to run into the street shoeless,bra-less,pant less and what was becoming painfully clear, mindless, in what I think was an attempt to inhale air into my body to get rid of the dark cloud that was taking over it. John had to carry my naked , wild arm swinging self from the middle of the road much to the curtain twitching amusement of the lady over the road. All this was going on while a small 8lb baby was in his Moses basket gurgling away,oblivious to the fact that his mummy wanted something to take the pain away and was willing to go to any lengths to get it and his daddy was looking after her and him all the way through it.

I went back to the doctor, the start of many many many GP visits to say I didn’t feel right. Nothing was questioned, nothing was changed. I was starting to spiral out of control.

I had been experiencing deep psychotic feelings. They were terrifying and I remember the terror very well. But they also seemed logical. I would say to John ‘I’m trapped in motherhood. He has trapped me forever” and John, after a million attempts at trying to soothe me eventually would say ok , he is here forever but we can work with this. He can go to nursery you can go back to work early, you don’t have to spend all your time with him. And then I’d say ” but I’m trapped in the world John. And the clouds,they are getting closer everyday . I need to climb the tree and cut them with scissors and then I’ll get to space. But what will I do when I’m there?”. I would claw at my mouth with my hands as I felt like cling film was over it, stopping me breathing. I got some rather attractive looking cuts at the side of my mouth and developed a need to try and pop the little white heads at the top of my arm. I was living the dream everybody. Living the dream.

My first meds were not the ones for me but thank god my bad experience didn’t put me off trying another anti depressant. I won’t say the name of the med and for good reason. I know many people it was the right med for and has been life changing and life saving. But when I went into hospital and was given some of the magic blue calming pills, I realised how good life can look when the pains in your brain can be soothed by the right concoction of pills. I was like a pharmacists personal bank roll I was on so many meds at one point. Anyone need a rattle to soothe the baby ? Give me a shake. Maracas over there sir? I’m on my way. But who cares- I was starting to feel better. I was starting to feel like Eve again.

I admit that I would read glossy magazines when there was story about a celebrity who had suffered from mental health issues. I read a fair few about those who had suffered postnatal depression or other perinatal mental health problems and I would become enraged when they would say ‘no, I didn’t take anti depressants. I think that they just mask your feelings and I’m proud to have got through it with out turning to meds”. I realise now that my anger was unfair in one way but also I think justified in another. Unfair in the sense that if people don’t want to take meds, of course that’s fine and of course there are instances where you can do get yourself through without the need for medication but I think saying its bad for mums to ‘turn to meds’ is wrong. They aren’t turning to crack. They aren’t weak. They want to be better so they can lead a happy life with their baby. If this means taking some tablets to sort out the bits in the brain that have gone awry then so be it. Nobody has a go at someone with a physical illness taking meds to get better do they?

That well known beacon of medical advice Katie Hopkins came out with quite the corker a few months ago. She sent out a tweet that read ‘Once I was given a sick note and a prescription for anti-depressants. I threw the note in the bin, ripped up the script & went back to work.’ Good for you Hopkins. I’m glad that for your experience , you didn’t need to take meds. Katie could have looked at this in a different way. Going to the doctor and admitting you feel shit is a big step and it’s actually pretty disgusting for someone to suggest its a weakness. And ripping up the prescription ? Fine , your choice. But don’t mock those who don’t turn it into confetti but instead take it to Boots, take the tablets and attempt to start their road to feeling better.

It doesn’t matter how we get better , it just matters that we do. And this may mean you are not ever totally ‘recovered’ .Getting yourself to a manageable point ,where you can live life without the symptoms that stop you being able to enjoy it, I think, is ok. I don’t have postpartum psychosis anymore and for me , the psychotic part of my illness cleared fairly quickly once I started on anti-psychotics. Hurrah. Gold medal for magic pills. They gave me my mind back. But I probably will always suffer with some kind of anxiety.

For those anti meds, I can’t explain the feelings of having to live in terror everyday. I got to such a point that I thought the sky was the ceiling of a film set . I thought the clouds were suffocating me. I would claw at my mouth as I felt trapped by ‘something’. I at one point woke up and thought I was in a coffin , being buried alive. Let me tell you, at that point, there is no way ‘ thinking positively’ would have gotten rid of these feelings and thoughts. I thank the medicine gods everyday for inventing anti psychotics as they helped save my life. I was then able to think positively once the fog had cleared a little.

Meds can help your mind clear so you can focus on ‘recovery’. Once out of my psychotic phase, I had deep deep anxiety. I heard a nurse in the unit I was in say it was one of the worst cases of postnatal anxiety she had ever seen and in my diagnosis and subsequent discharge from being an inpatient , my notes talked mostly about the anxiety I was suffering. I was put on an old style anti anxiety drug having been weaned of the med that want working. I think I was on175mg three times a day and it was quite simply, wonderful. I initially found that it numbed my mouth and turned it temporarily blue which was slightly startling. John walked into my room and said ‘what the fuck is up with your lips?’ And looked at me as though I was just about to whip on a Star Trek outfit. And then I looked in the mirror and saw my intergalactic state. It made me retain wee resulting in a lovely bloated like appearance and the husband being let loose on Primark ON HIS OWN to buy me some new pants and trousers, and gave me slightly jittery legs, but it stopped my mind jitteriness.

The meds didn’t turn me into a zombie. I had worried about this. I worried that I may become void of feeling and I wouldn’t know if I was anxious as my brain would be numbed but. They didn’t do that. I definitely still experienced anxiety but not in the world stopping why I had before. Before I was on them, I couldn’t even bear to be in the same room as my own child. I shook at the idea of his very presence and the notion that he was now here forever, completely and utterly terrified me to the point where I was almost catatonic. I became frozen with fear,my hair was coming out in chunks,I forgot how to get dressed,John had to wash me. I vomited all over myself in the shower one day and John rinsed it all off. That’s love for you right there. Your good lady has run around the block naked, said she wants to die, said she wants to give the baby away and is now stood naked in front of you covered in sick. And you’re clearing it up kissing her forehead saying it’s all going to be ok.

I would frantically fold up and mess up and then refold clothes. Having never understood the concept of folding in my life before having my child and having a somewhat natural ability to have the clothes in my bedroom resemble the floor of Primark during a sale , my behaviour was most definitely that of someone who was trying to avoid being near her baby.

I was scared of him. I was scared of opening my eyes in the morning. And when I did , I could only see properly through one eye as the other had blurred so much due to my anxious state. I would start wailing when I woke up as I realised it was another day of terror, another day towards the forever of being a mother, being a life source. So, I will never forget the day I woke up in John’s parents house when I was on home leave from the unit. I opened my eyes and awaited the flutter in my chest.I waited for my hands to calm up.I waited for my breath to do that thing where I would breathe really quickly three times and I waited for me to start shaking. I waited some more. And more. And I realised it wasn’t happening. I got out of bed and still didn’t want to look at Joe in his Moses basket but things felt okish. One step at a time.

I wasn’t instantly cured. My recovery took two and a half years in all. My recovery to a manageable place but that morning ,for the first time in nearly three months, I remembered what it felt like to wake up like I had in my life before Joe. For the next few months, well for the next year really, my emotions were snake and ladderesque . My emotions went up and down but I kept remembering that I didn’t always go back to the start. I would be able to spend time with Joe but it was very hard. Upon my discharge , I had to spend a few minutes on my own with him each day . I would have to walk around the garden on my own with him, walk to the post box with him and then had to build this up to walking to the local shop. A few weeks later, I had to spend the afternoon on my own with him in the house -‘exposure therapy’. I was to then spend all my time with Joe to accept that he was here,forever.

We spent nearly four months in Nottingham all together, with John having to take compassionate leave from work, to get me to a point where I could come back to London. If I hadn’t gone into the mother and baby unit and prescribed the medication I took, I would never have been able to return to London. I know that I was going to kill myself, I could see no other way out. I thank the unit for admitting me and I thank medication for starting the rewiring of my brain. If this hadn’t started, I then couldn’t go on to the other things necessary to help me recover.

What I needed next was therapy. Ultimately, the main thing the psychiatric and psychological doctors I saw said was that I continuously using the word ‘trapped’. I felt trapped in everything. I found myself feeling that I was not only trapped in the role of motherhood forever, but that I wouldn’t lock doors in case I got trapped in a room. I wouldn’t be in windowless rooms as there was no escape route. At one point when I was saying we should give the baby away , I said to John , what if I’m arrested ? The area of being trapped in handcuffs scares me. And what if I’m put in a cell? I’m locked in it. I refused to get into cars that didn’t have back seat doors,I refused to sit by the window on buses as I couldn’t get out when I wanted. I wouldn’t have fared too well in fifty shades would I ? Thank goodness the hubby doesn’t have a penchant for pink fluffy handcuffs. I would be screaming but not for the right reasons.

So, when the unit agreed I could go back to London, they wrote lots of very good explanatory letters to my local mental health team, saying they recommended therapy for me. Coming back however was problematic – as soon as the mother and baby unit discharged me from their outpatients and my care was taken over by the local mental health team in London, things turned sour.

I still to this day, over five years after my son was born, haven’t been seen as an outpatient at my local London mental health team. I don’t need it now, I’m better, but give me strength. This is ridiculous. This was my life in their hands. The mother and baby unit sent numerous letters asking for me to have outpatient care – but this never happened. I was very lucky that the mother and baby unit agreed to keep me on as an outpatient for a year due to the fact that the team in London basically filed all the letters about me in the bin but this meant I had to travel up there once a week to see the doctors there. This was a massive expense to us as a family , around £200 a week, but one that was essential to ensure I was fully supported while my recovery was on-going.

Before this happened though, on our return to London , I went to the doctors clutching my notes from the mother and baby unit. They had all the info on the doctors needed. “We recovered Evelyn is referred for CBT as soon as possible to build on the good progress she has been making while in the unit and on her discharge”. I saw a GP. I’ll call him Dr Baldy Head. I crept in with Joe and started talking. “I , erm, I haven’t been well. And erm, I felt really low when I gave birth and then started to have all these weird thoughts and feelings and basically cracked up. And I saw lots go doctors here and no one knew how to treat me because it turns out I had postpartum psychosis . So we moved to Nottingham and I registered temporarily with a GP there and went into a mother and baby unit. We were there for four months and we are back now and the psychiatrists there have written this letter to show you the medication that I’m on and to refer me for counselling”. Baldy Head took the letter off me, scanned it flicked it with his finger and scoffed. Actually scoffed and said “and you expect me to do what with this?”. I started crying. I didn’t want it but I felt so embarrassed. I’d just told him something that was really difficult to say and he just made me feel like a child on that god awful Super Nanny programme. I felt like I was sat on the loathesome naughty chair as he said ” who am I supposed to refer you to ? It says you are on tablets so wait for them to kick in”. I said but they have kicked in and how I am now is because of the meds. Four months ago I couldn’t look at Joe without feeling cold all over and cemented to the ground with fear. Now, I’m nervous and scared but I’m getting through the day.I just need to learn some coping techniques. That when he said ” women become mothers, that’s what happens young lady. Perhaps you should have thought of this before you got yourself pregnant”. He handed the letter back to me , laughed and said “refer you for counselling ,is that what I’m here for” and said we are done here. Thanks doc. Next time, I’ll cross my legs and chew on some smarties to ensure i never get myself in this situation again.

So, the wonderful team in Nottingham arranged for me to have therapy. And this ladies and gentleman was totes amazeballs. I had an amazing thing called Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing,commonly known as EMDR. There was a school of thought that my incessant ramblings about cutting up the clouds with scissors to climb into space to get away from my child and the fact that I wouldn’t even go to the loo on my own , meaning John had to stand outside so I didn’t have to lock the door , meant that I may have PTSD from my perinatal mental health experience. So the medication was helping me live life day to day in a way that meant I wasn’t scared to look at my child or running in the street flashing the binmen, but the trauma I had suffered hadn’t been resolved.

So, I met my lovely mental health nurse. She was like a mum. She cuddled me at the start and at the end of the session and kept telling me how well I was doing. EMDR was discovered by a lady called Francine Shapiro, who was a psychologist. My therapist told me a story about Shapiro, who suffered from depression I think. Bear with me I’m not a mental health professional so this may not make much sense ! She went for a walk one day while feeling anxious and realised that when thinking of traumatic memories that upset her ,her eyes moved from side to side. Apparently, side to side eye movements stimulate both sides of the brain like what happens during the REM sleep stage. So, side to side eye movements can reduce the intensity of traumatising thoughts and help you to process and understand them.Sounds weird? Yes, and it’s a strange therapy to have . I had to follow the clicks of my therapists finger back and forth, side to side while talking about my trauma.

When the therapy was discussed with me , I was keen to try it. And it was incredible. It worked in about 8 sessions and it uncovered what I was experiencing – lots of unresolved trauma . I found myself banging the walls with my fists during one session as I discovered how truly affected I was. But now, following EMDR , my memories are no longer painful when I think of them. I can still remember them , but they don’t send me into a spin. I’m not scared of them. Have a look at this if you want to read about its amazingness and also about the different kinds of therapy that can help if you are or have experienced mental illness – http://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/drugs-and-treatments/talking-treatments/types-of-therapy/#.VO8FYWIgGSM . Therapies that work for some ,might not be the right therapy for you – there are lots of different types. I’ve shared my experience of EMDR to show how wonderful therapy is as a recovery tool.

There are some clever clogs in the utopian world of the internet who think they have the recovery skills of the wise old elf “If you are willing to get over depression then you can without medication”. Bah. If you are willing ? Who wants to not get better ??? There is nothing wrong with taking anti depressants . There is nothing wrong with taking them for six months,six years or until infinity and beyond. Needing to take them forever doesn’t mean you have ‘ failed to address the issues in your mind’. No no no.

There are lots of things that can help the process of getting to a manageable point when having is suffered/suffering mental illness. Exercise is one.I love running. It really clears my mind. I have to strap my E cup wonder boobs down so I don’t knock myself out as I pound the streets, Mo Farah I am not and I have an arse that still moves ever so slightly once I’ve actually stopped running but the feeling of air going into my lungs really does make my head feel clear. I love going to the gym and putting my headphones in and bringing myself back to the days when I was 16 going to raves. I turn the music up up loud , close my eyes and go wild on the cross trainer. I emerge an hour later, the smell of my trainers knocking me out, my reflection in the mirror terrifying as I look like an oil slick has been poured over my head and face but feeling like a worry free teenager, leaving the gym feeling amazing.

I went through a stage of cooking my way through mood foods. I actually did feel like I was doing my body some good here. I read that basil and rosemary were good for anxiety so simmered away pasta sauces and I went through a stage of cooking of roast potatoes in coconut oil as white carbs would ‘fill my soul’. I unearthed the Nigella Lawson in me and made broad bean falafels. I didn’t sashay around the kitchen fawning over a wooden spoon like it was an 85 battery controlled knee trembling dildo from Ann Summers but I was coming to the conclusion that if I threw a pound of butter over my troubles and massaged them into my skin , I might get a crispy surface so I could endure any knocks thrown at me but maintain my fluffy little centre .

And I do believe that filling my body with good clean food has been good for my mind and soul. Yes I love diet coke (caffeine free is very nice in my humble opinion) and my hips are testament that I love food but I do think there is something true in the belief that foods can help alter your mood. The charity MIND have a great page in their website about this which I encourage you to read – http://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/tips-for-everyday-living/food-and-mood/#.VO7y2GIgGSM. I did things like sprinkle pumpkin seeds over salads and I started eating a lot of salmon,tuna and mussels which I read were good for the brain. I bought a great book on healing soups and boiled them up. I have even attempted kale crisps which were an epic failure and got me so stressed out that I attacked them with the fish slice while standing in my pants with a shower cap on (I made them four times in half an hour and they all resembled fire ashes) so instead blitzed them into smoothies.I juiced red peppers and strawberries as I heard vitamin c helps your body’s reaction to stress and anxiety and became slightly obsessed with tofu to get a magnesium hit again having scoured the internet to see what I could fill my mouth with to ease my anxious symptoms. I discovered tofu scramble, like eggs scrambled but a more hippified version. Throw a load of chilli sauce over it and it’s acceptable.

I’ve got a couple of friends who found art and music therapy really helpful in their recovery, as it has helped them explore their senses. How utterly amazing that support can be found in this way- I think it’s incredible the amount of different things that can help you.

And I discovered Mindfulness. And have raved about it ever since. Learning how to live in this very moment was a massive positive feat for me. I was overwhelmed by the idea of forever in my life as a mum. I could not stop myself thinking of next week, next year, when my son was 12, the entire concept of the future was torturous. It took me a while to get my head around and my initial feelings were summed up by a relative on lending her my Mindfulness book when she announced “I am finding it hard to stare at a toothbrush for ten minutes ” but I stuck with it and my mind was opened. I realised that I needed to live in the very moment. What happened a minute ago isn’t what is happening now or what will happen in the future. I embraced the moment I was in and letting go of the worry of ‘what ifs’ really relaxed my brain. The approach has had a profound effect on my everyday life. I used to panic about not getting my work done on time and I have a great pride in what I do but I think , if this isn’t done Eve , what does this mean? Will the world stop turning ? No. Will it fuck everything up? No. Does it need to be done by the end of the week to ensure you hit deadline? Yes. And that the priority.

In the end, it doesn’t really matter how you better does it? As long as you do. And there are lots of different ways to kick start the process. My point in writing this post was to show that if you do need to take meds, it’s ok. You haven’t failed. I think it’s amazing we live in a world where science has been able to create things that can give you your mind back, help you live a happier life again. And who cares if that means you are on meds now, tomo or forever ?

I love my life with my beautiful joyful child. And I love it because I’m alive to experience it. The day I decided to kill myself was a day I never ever want to have again. I never want to wake up shaking, scared of being alive, ever again. Now, I wake up next to my little boy. The boy I was so scared of and couldn’t be near, sleeps in our room. Around 4am every morning, he climbs into our bed and puts his arm over me and goes to sleep saying mama mama over and over. I love his little squidgy arms and the fact that his cheeks smell of doughnuts. I had halfterm off work with him last week and spent very second with him. We played football and made a carrot cake,went out for lunch everyday and laughed our little heads off. If I hadn’t taken medication five years ago, I wouldn’t be here today to inhale his spirit. I love him so much my heart feels like it could burst. Sometimes, when I’m doing the washing up and John is at the gym , I look over at Joe playing in the carpet and do you know what I think ? I think, I’m here with him on my own and I feel good. I feel more than good, I feel like this is normal. I’m not scared to be near him anymore.

Look at the picture at the top. Joe was 11 months at point. The joy on our faces is real. And it’s beautiful.

I didn’t think that taking medication would mean that I had failed myself and everyone else, but I know lots of people do. But really this was the only thing that helped me when I was initially ill. I am not sure that I will ever be totally ‘cured’ because I have come to accept that ‘anxiety’ is a part of who I am but my psychosis would never have gone away on it’s tod. Meds freed me from the hysteria of hallucinations which almost resulted in me no longer being here and I will forever praise them for giving me the gift of my life back.

Diamonds may be a nice present but for me , the best I ever had was becoming Eve again and learning not to be scared of my baby. Who cares if I had to shake , rattle and roll along the medication yellow brick road to get here?