Maternal Suicide Prevention Week & Suicide Prevention Day

**Trigger warning - SUICIDE**

Me at approx 37 weeks pregnant (March 2016)

POSTPARTUM SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

Back in July 2015, I was fortunate enough to become pregnant. I had wanted a baby for as long as I could remember so was ecstatic that it was actually happening! It came at a time when my life felt very unsettled so it gave me purpose, motivation and direction.

Fast forward to April 2016, I had moved house twice and lost my job within 6 months of becoming pregnant, but I was okay! Yes I had experienced some Stress and Anxiety but nothing I couldn’t handle.

I believed I was just a little anxious because I was a first time Mum. I mostly worried about the labour, not about any practicalities or what happened after. In actual fact, the labour wasn’t that bad, it was what followed that unexpectedly

shook my foundations and changed my life forever.

Within hours of my daughters birth, I thought I'd made a huge mistake. I immediately regretted having her and wished I could turn back the clock. I distinctly remember saying to myself; “What have you done? You’re making a big mistake, you can’t do this!”. By this, I meant motherhood. I was not only filled with regret but an overwhelming sense of dread and despair.

It was later discovered that I was suffering from symptoms of Postnatal Depression and elements of Postpartum Psychosis. I’d never experienced anything like it so it totally took me and my partner by surprise.

I felt trapped and immediately mourned the life I’d had, the ME I was before she came along. At that point I didn’t think about ending my life but I sure as hell didn’t want to be in it. As the days went on, I became increasingly unwell. I couldn’t sleep and barely ate. I wouldn’t shower or get dressed. I just stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling, shaking and trembling in fear. My body was frozen in a state of shock and whilst I was there physically, mentally I had gone elsewhere. I was having hallucinations and at times believed I was a newborn baby, everyone around me seemed like giants.

I was terrified of my baby and wanted nothing to do with her. I wasn’t caring for her and when encouraged to, was resistant. I said things like;

She’ll be better off without me, she needs a mum who wants her, someone who will look after her.

I would ignore her cries, wouldn’t cuddle or feed her and was only concerned about getting myself out of the pit of despair I was in. I wanted to run away, escape the reality I was living! By the time Aarya was 5 days old I was in a desperate state. I would refer to her as the ‘thing’, ‘it’ or her, never by her name. A memory that springs to mind is, “Get that thing away from me”.

I was having multiple suicidal thoughts and even ideations of infanticide. It pains me to say it but it’s the truth. If people like me don’t share their vulnerability and speak out, then how can we change stigmas or change statistics?! I didn’t want to exist with Aarya in my life so I thought that gave me only two options. Take myself or her out of the equation for good.

Thank goodness, neither of those things happened. I didn’t act on my thoughts but I did fantasize about plans. There must have been a small part of my rational brain intact because I declared those thoughts rather than acting on them. It was almost as if I was a fly on wall, looking in and listening in on my life. I thought, crikey she’s really poorly and needs help. I need to tell someone, pronto!

Me and my daughter Aarya (May 2016) in a Mother & Baby Unit

My husband and Mum were the first people I disclosed anything to, by this point it was blindingly obvious I wasn’t well. I told them I didn’t trust myself because I didn’t know what I was capable of doing and said to my Mum;

“You need to hide all the knives & any medication in the house!”

I was in the scariest place I have ever been. I was bullied and haunted by intrusive thoughts 24-7 and worst-case scenarios. Constantly triggered by the cry of my baby or in fact anything at all to do with her. I remember thinking one night, if I do make it out of this alive, I’ll probably spend the rest of my life in prison and never be allowed to see my daughter again.

Once I’d declared how I felt and the thoughts I was having, I didn’t feel any safer but did feel a small sense of relief. I religiously wrote down my thoughts as I struggled to talk and explain things the way I saw them. My mind was going at a 100mph, I just couldn’t keep up. I was so confused and lost. My short term memory packed in. I was in a living nightmare, a psychological thriller. In fact I still have all the notes I wrote when I was ill, maybe one day I’ll make it into a film.

The fear and Anxiety reached a peak by day 10 when I pretty much went into a catatonic state. My husband took me to an out of hours Doctor at A&E who referred me to a crisis team. My husband was in tears but I just looked at the floor or the ceiling and felt and said nothing. My memories of this part are somewhat hazy but I know I spent 5 very long nights alone in an acute Psychiatric unit before moving to the specialist Mother & Baby hospital.

When I went on to the acute ward I was asked if I could hear voices. My response was; “ If you are referring to all the other patients shouting and screaming then yes!”. They thought I was trying to be funny and took it to mean that I was not Psychotic so was relatively low risk. However that didn’t stop them taking every personal item away from me though. Anything that I could potentially harm myself with was not allowed in my room and even the furniture was fixed to the floor so I couldn’t move it. My window opened a couple of centimetres and I was checked every 15 minutes through a hatch in the door. I felt like a prisoner, not just in the unit, but in my own mind too.

Before I went in, I hadn’t thought about hanging or choking myself, but when I wasn’t allowed my pillow from home, or my earphones, it made me consider it. I was in this bizarre, voyeuristic, inception like state whereby I felt I was being primed for something;

“WELL IF THE PROFESSIONALS THINK IM CAPABLE of attempting suicide THEN MAYBE I AM…”

After that, the Mother & Baby unit was mine and Aarya’s home for somewhere between 6 and 9 weeks (we aren’t too sure). The suicidal thoughts became less frequent but the ideations of infanticide continued for some time. It really does break my heart when I recall some of the awful things I thought and said out loud. But hey, at least I said them. I strongly believe that it’s because of that, that I am here today, on #suicidepreventionday2020, writing this blog. I got help because I spoke out and I am healthy now.

I want people to know that no matter how alone you feel, how ill you feel, how hopeless you feel, how messed up you might feel, you CAN get better. You always have a choice and you deserve to live! Please for me, for your baby, for your friends, for your family, for hope, for your future self, choose life and never give up.

I love you, I hear you and I feel your pain. Speak up, even if it’s just to 1 person, it’s a massive step in the right direction.

Please get in touch if you’d like to chat or need signposting to a person or service that can help. I sincerely apologise if you found this blog triggering or upsetting. My intention is only ever to spread awareness, break down stigmas and help prevent this sort of thing happening in the future.

Be safe and remember you are worth every breath you take.