My PND story

I've written many posts over the last 18 months about my mental health, the whys, hows and reasonings ramblings). I often use my blog to work out my feelings or "where I am at" there and then. Today, I'm going to talk about my PND journey,as I've been suffering a few flashbacks on holiday and I want some closure.

I'm pretty sure I didn't have PND after having Ewan so i pick up the story after Noah's birth in March 2013:

The pregnancy had been anxious, my anxiety lessened somewhat by having an elective caesarean booked, but heightened because Noah was small for dates and had weekly growth scans from 28 weeks. I was signed off sick from work at 26 weeks due to pelvic girdle pain.

The delivery went well, the midwives and doctors followed by caesarean birth plan and nothing bad happened. He latched on lile he had read the manual and I felt accomplished-ish.

I have no recollection of "the baby blues", I felt ok, and MrB had a few weeks off work and then went back to his shift pattern of 6 days on, 4 days off. It was hard, I had 2 boys under 18 months and for 5 months I thought I was fine. Close to the end of August, I self diagnosed with PND and went to tell my GP. With retrospect, things were dark from only a month post-partum, I remember feeling worthless, like I had no personality and nothing to offer my friends if I saw them. I felt empty, but assumed that was how all mums in my position felt. Health visitors asked how I was, I said "oh yes, I've had depression before, I know what to look for".

I couldn't see where the tiredness ended and I began, I was tired to my very soul. MrB was a saint and let me go to bed really early (asleep by 7pm) and always fully pulled his weight 50:50.

when Noah was 10 weeks old, MrB took us on an inpromptu holiday to centerparcs, he just knew I needed something and he hoped a holiday was it. The holiday made me feel a bit better and "less murderous" was how I phrased it to a concerned friend on Facebook.

August 2013, my GP offered me citalopram because it was the "cheapest" and neglected to refer me for the CBT which I had asked for. I refused medication for months, trying hard to use exercise, serotonin boosting supplements and precisely arranged logistics to get better. No amount of organising, hoping or gadgets could help me shake off the feeling I was failing at everything.

I was also getting worse, consistently with every 10 day cycle of MrB's shifts. It was awful, I was being the best mother the children could want for, we went out, they were always clean, and yet, somehow I was never good enough for my own standards and comparisons with other mums. I was desperately lonely, believing that I had no friends, and hoping that I wouldn't bump into anyone I knew when we were out, and if we did, I'd hide. Ashamed of myself and my lack of personality.

PNDHOUR began in January 2014, I found it within a fortnight and was a regular contributor. I met many women who supported me, and showed me the kindness I had no way of giving back either to them or to myself. I learned that medication is not something to fear, that it is a necessary tool in recovery for many people with mental health illnesses.

I want to cry, having written this story, because I don't know how I would have made it through 2014 otherwise. I had no idea how ill I was, and I'm not sure how many other women felt like this.