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08Oct 13

The day I started to recover

That’s what I felt like the moment I walked into my new doctors surgery the day that I made the decision to change doctors, as my previous doc wanted me, in the midst of my depression, to practice breathing techniques. Don’t get me wrong, I am a great believer in alternative therapies, and one day I will qualify and practice them, but I needed something more. I was looking for medication to stabalise my mood and to get on an even keel. Sadly I was not given them, which led to my decision to change surgeries.

When I walked into my new surgery, I was met with a cold stare and an abrupt attitude from the receptionist behind the glass screen. I was having one of my dark days, the type of day when you just want to stay in bed and not have to face the world. I was close to tears and feeling defeated and it was only 9am – I still had a whole day to get through. It was one of those days, again, and I had the distinct sensation of “Groundhog Day”.

I was told that I just couldn’t walk in and expect an appointment on that day, although a health visitor that I had been in contact with the previous day said that I could get an emergency appointment due to my circumstances (if I filled in┬áthe correct paperwork). This was not to be and I just didn’t have the fight in me to reason or explain my circumstances. Instead I said “Thank You”, turned around and left with tears stinging my eyes and any sense of hope began to leave me.

I live approx 5 mins from my doctor’s surgery and within 10 minutes of being home, having cried my eyes out in the car, there was a message from the surgery to call them back. I received an apology as they hadn’t realised why I was there and they offered me an appointment later that day. To say that I felt optimistic would be lying, as I was still feeling as though no one would be able to drag me out of the depression that I had fallen into, but it was a mild relief to think that I could be a few hours from getting some help. No one could clear that cloud, the dullness of life and the defeat that I had become accustomed to , after the birth of my child.

However, I had nothing to lose, I went to the surgery and I met with the doctor. I cried until I could cry no more. My body heaving with sobs and at one point I was even sick. I didn’t care what the doctor thought at this point, I knew I couldn’t sink any lower than I had already. It was this day that I started to recover…



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About Coping with postnatal depression…

Hi, my name is Angeline and I am mum to two kids, ages 6 months and 6 yrs. I had postnatal depression with both kids and prenatal depression with one. I have decided to write about my experience in order to help break stigmas relating to perinatal mental health, and actively campaign to see changes to services available for both men and women.

I am open and honest about my experience and, although it was a very dark time in my life, I want people to know that you can overcome this and there is light on those dark days.