The Mosquito effect.

It was while I was driving to McDonalds for a sneaky Drifter Mcflurry at 8ocklock on Tuesday evening that I decided I would probably hold off on the whole killing myself thing.

I hadn’t put much thought in to the actual event other than thinking perhaps I would leave a note describing how I would like people to behave and what I would like people to wear at my funeral (big shades and lots of random dramatic hysterical sobbing please. And then a disco that goes on all night.) And yes, ok. Maybe I had thought a little about how I would do it, but I hadn’t set a date or anything.

The very idea of it was tiny. It was just a little niggling mosquito at the very back of my head that would occasionally flap it’s wings, buzz and fanny around. At first it would annoy the hell out of me and I would fight tooth and nail to swat it away.

I have to admit though, there were times during the worst Post natal depression days when I had become so lethargic in both mood and physicality that I would allow it to bounce around joyfully and my struggle to wave it away would become very lacklustre, preferring instead to lie back and watch.

It was during these lonely and hidden moments, filled with self loathing and internal sadness that, I suppose, if I am truly honest, I thought perhaps it might be a good idea.

That the world would be a better place without me in it.

I also spent an inordinate amount of time planning the disco for my funeral.

There was going to be a disco ball and vodka fountain, where instead of dipping fudge in chocolate you dipped lemon in vodka. Fabulous Drag queens would belt out a load of sad tunes but with a glittery and marvellous twist and once all the old fogeys had retired to their own homes and just the giggly girls were left, I would organize some sort of hilariously naughty camp ra ra show involving Sinita singing a whole host of 80’s tunes in a Hula skirt bonanza.

It was during my second week at therapy in a moment of madness, I admitted I had been planning to jump off a train platform.

I surprised myself by knowing which station.

So it turns out I had put some thought in to it after all, without even realising.

Enjoying the peacefulness of sitting alone in the car, swirling cheap half melted ice cream and liquid gold around a big white plastic spoon, while staring out at the grimy grey tower block in front of me and above it at the almost translucent yellow, orange and pink, tranquil and yet somehow angry, sky, I finally swatted the mosquito and allowed myself to consciously acknowledge what was going on.

Those thoughts aren’t healthy to entertain even on a subconscious level and if I was planning anything of the sort then why the hell bother putting myself through all the therapy in the hope of getting better? Surely putting oneself through hours of torturous ruminating and reminiscing over some quite traumatic events would be totally futile if the end result would be me; dead.

I have an illness. The priory hospital has helped me understand this. It is an illness just like any physical illness except it is in my brain.

It is not my fault, it does not make me a bad person or a terrible mother. It does not make me disgusting or ugly or evil, or even unworthy.

It is not my fault. 

The illness is Post-natal depression and I am not going to let it beat me.

I have a support network of friends and family, and it is time to come clean and fess up, thus allowing them to help, however hard that may be.

And most importantly I have my beautiful, angelic, gorgeous, tottering, wobbling, giggling, slobbering son who I bloody brought in to this world, and who needs me just as much as I need him.

He is my fucking everything, and even though this ‘chemical imbalance’  has robbed me of some of the most precious moments in his first year and is still attempting to steal each and every positive emotion from me I will not let it win the war.

The occasional battle maybe, but never the war.

Did I tell you about my Drifter Mcflurry?

The machine was broken so the guy made it by hand. It was my idea of heaven in a cup. Far too much topping and not enough ice cream. I still feel all warm and gooey thinking about it now.

It was one of those once in a lifetime events.

It’s funny how sometimes a tiny action made by a complete stranger, an accidental flick of the wrist, allowing too much sugar to fill up a cup, can effectively change somebody else’s life path forever, without either of them even ever realising.

Last night a Mcflurry saved my life. (The lesser known In Deep song.)

Oh and, FYI– if I ever get married, one day (cough cough, M-A-R-R-I-E-D Irish One, that thing where one person gets down on one knee and then you go to church and profess your love for one another….) my reception is going to be bloody brilliant!!!

How do I get hold of Sinita?

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30 Comments on “The Mosquito effect.

  1. It was so lovely to meet you so fleetingly at Cybermummy. It’s taken me an age to come over and say hello. What a moving piece of writing. I am wishing you many more Mcflurry moments, may they soon come thick and fast and covered in topping.

  2. Pingback: The Mosquito effect. (via Mammywoo) | Bare

  3. Love this post. I know Pnd is a complete arse but this will help so much, for those that might be going through similar. Its helped me understand so much as a new mum too

  4. thank you for writing and sharing this, its very brave, and I love how important ice cream turned out to be. its the little things. this is my first visit to your blog, and Im grateful to @sheswrite for directing me here. Much love to you and I’ll be thinking about you.

  5. Thank you for your honesty. What a beautifully poignant post. I’ve been there, I’ve made my plan, nearly every detail. I am MUCH better now and hope to stay that way. I try to focus on my kids and think about how much my absence would hurt them. Good for you and your bravery. My favorite part? “It is not my fault.” Well, that and the “Lastnight a Mcflurry saved my life.” I’ve actually heard that remix, it’s pretty awesome.

  6. I remember talking to you once before all the therapy etc started and us both admitting that taking the first step had been the hardest thing ever – admitting you need help! You are probably the bravest woman I’ve never met, and you inspire me every time you post. Wish I had access to the priory – still bloody waiting for my NHS counselling! And – I so so so want to come to that party!!

  7. It sounds like a fucking awesome party, but I think I’d enjoy it if you were there teaching me some big box little box moves and holding my hair back for me after too much vodka fountain.

    You’re brave. You’re brave, and beautiful, and loving and I am genuinely grateful to have met you because you help me to like me. You are a gift to women, you tell the truth and make it feel ok.

    This is one point, in one day, and it’s so significant, and so small, and it’s moments like these that make the rest get better. You’re going up now – one day you’ll look back and not even recognise the person you’ve been. I had the same turning point 3 years ago and now I can’t even remember how that felt. I know I felt it, but the feeling itself has gone, completely. There are tough days, of course, but it’s never as hard again now you’ve spun around on that one point.

    I’m glad to be your friend xxx

  8. I had a plan. The plan never took flight and I’m better. Well done you for putting your plan out there. Go hug your baby, hug your man, and think of the happier days that will soon surely come.

  9. Just remember hanging out with this beautiful, lovely girl with a huge heart and that always made me laugh! You still are that person and you can get through it! and you are! And just hang on to those wonderful moments with your men and doggy. HUGE BIG HUG!
    And you are never to go to that station! never! you are too important in a little mans life!

  10. Oh hun, I wish I had seen you Tuesday now so I could have given you all the hugs I’ve been saving up. Brutally honest, very brave and fabulous post. Maybe you should arrange a going away celebration for the PND and then you can outdo it with your wedding party! In the meantime we’ll go stalk Sinitta, she is on twitter! ;0) xx

  11. Gosh, so heartwrenching and truthful. This is something I have never experienced but know it can hit REALLY hard and it sounds like it has!! Keep blogging, I’m sure the therapy must be fabulous and of course, all of us who are right behind u, all the way!! Stay strong, and fill your face with Mcflurry’s if that’s what it takes!! If you fancy hearing about teenage issues amongst others in sunny Devon, come over and visit me!! xx

  12. hey i feel your pain etc. having been there (but not quite done that).
    I still suffer PND now and despite being on tablets (which i hate having in my system) i stiil have days where i think why am i here and why cant i just hide under the covers.. its nice to know that there someone out there that willingly voices how they feel, i still hid behind the fakle plastic smile my citalipram puts on my face!! I only been suffering a year but can tell with people who dont understand that they think oooh ur on tablets so u should be fixed now right…. ummm wrong !!
    Keep your chin up as your so brave and helping others like me keep theres up too xxx

    Here my story xx
    http://sandylivia04.blogspot.com/2010/07/secret-life-of-me.html

  13. hey i feel your pain etc. having been there (but not quite done that).
    I still suffer PND now and despite being on tablets (which i hate having in my system) i stiil have days where i think why am i here and why cant i just hide under the covers.. its nice to know that there someone out there that willingly voices how they feel, i still hid behind the fakle plastic smile my citalipram puts on my face!! I only been suffering a year but can tell with people who dont understand that they think oooh ur on tablets so u should be fixed now right…. ummm wrong !!
    Keep your chin up as your so brave and helping others like me keep theres up too xxx

  14. Sounds like this blog is another way of keeping you honest…a kind of therapeutic act, telling the hard things to a computer and then to all of us. I’ve been there- not in a post-natal way, but in an ‘I really wish I’d just begged a bit harder to have my foot amputated’ kind of way, when the pain eats all of me. Glad you are doing the hard things. I think you probably need the Bee Gees (however many are left) to sing at your reception too…

  15. Bless you for being so awesomely brilliant at writing about something that so many go through, and something that is intensely private and must have been hard to share. Good luck in your war – it sounds like you have already decided to win it xx

  16. What they said ^^

    I had the same sort of thing after Tori but I wasn’t brave/intelligent enough to go ask for help. Wish I had now because I’m sure everyones lives would have much benefitted from me not being a complete fruit loop for months and months and walking round with an insane grin telling people I was fine. I really wasn’t.

    You are doing things the right way and just from reading your posts I know it’s better than the way I handled it. But then I’m a bit of an idiot so no surprises there.

    Big hugs and extra McFlurry toppings xxxx

  17. A wonderfully honest post. Thanx for sharing. The world would be a less interesting & sadder place without you in it. I’m definitely going to get a mcflurry today! Lol. X

  18. Wow – I really enjoyed reading this post. It is so nice so see even the tiniest shift in your thinking. That’s all it takes and the rest will spiral out from there. Well done you for being brave enough to admit the thinking.

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