This is My Depression

Its name is Prudence. It inhabits me. Is me. Convinces me we are one and the same. Prudence tells me that I am hopeless. Useless. She is my black dog. My black bitch.

This is my depression. Continue reading

Advertisements

On Being Desperately Lonely in Mothers’ Group

One of the most common things to emerge after I recently started to speak more openly about my struggle with severe postpartum mental illness (postpartum psychosis) was the amount of people who told me that they had no idea. Many expressed their surprise at the extent of what we, as a family, were going through and some hadn’t picked up on it at all. “But you always look so happy and together,” is something I heard repeatedly. This most recent reaction reminded me of the very early days of my illness when I “came out” to some of the women in my mothers’ group. No one saw it coming. I hid it well. Continue reading