The demon and me (mental Health) – anon


The first signs of me having issues with my Mental Health were when my youngest son was about 6 months old. I mentioned to my health visitor who assured me it was just ‘The Baby Blues’. She followed up her diagnosis with a follow up appointment for me to attend an appointment with my GP who reiterated her stance and gifted me a script for my first bash at SRI’s (Anti Depressants).

I’d love to know how many of us Woman are lazily diagnosed or labelled as having standard issues that arise from the hormonal overloads that come with pregnancy and motherhood. I’d stare at my beautiful baby boy, the gurning interupted by a smile that would have lit up any room, Just not my room. Why? Why can’t I feel happyness? I’d ask myself constantly, I’d constantly put on this face to everyone that life was complete. It wasn’t, Well it was just not in my head, I adored that wee button nose, The sweet smell of his tiny little head & the grip of his little fingers around mines, I felt it all physically just the mental aspect didn’t go hand and hand like mines and his. A prouder mum you couldn’t have met but something wasn’t right becoming a new mum is obviously a challenging time but it’s as exciting a time as you should ever be able to experience. I lived it but didn’t “experience” the sesnsations I should have, Emotionally I felt nothing to anyone. I loved my baby and his daddy but I couldn’t feel it, Cold like Ice I bottled it up and went with the label for near on two years. To this day I feel so, so guilty for this period, It should have meant so much more to me.

So yes, 2 years, The evolving of my little bundle into the mischievious bubble of a blonde haired prince draped daily in sky blue. Every mile stone met and sailed through, He was developing but my emotions still hadn’t. My mental health started to deteriate quite dramatically from my son was about 24 to 32 months, A ‘Demon’ was forming inside me, the eggs had been laid and slowly crept up and hatched inside me, This ‘Demon’ started to influence who I was and who I would become. I continued to put the face on, Smiling through the tears, Fake laughing my way through lunch dates with friends etc.

I went for another appointment with my GP who this time suggested, “The Baby Blues” had developed into mild depression, I’m not a Doctor & to be fair I didn’t fully divulge how extreme my low mood etc was but experiencing suicidal thoughts definately would not be labelled as ‘Mild’ in any sort of Medical examination.

“Fluoxitine 3 times a day come back and see me in 8 weeks” she quipped. Wow a massive 20mg difference was going to wipe away the tears and eradicate the high pitched ‘Demon’ telling me to kill myself every day. I went on in hope regardless.

Day by day hope diminished, My Mental Illness ruined my career in Social Care helping funnily enough adults with severe Mental Illnesses, My senior role managing various clients and staff was too much pressure for a body being mutilated from the inside out by the ‘Demon’.


First the Demon consumed my Career and ability to work, It ate away a my confidence, I was always outgoing, full of fun and so laid back till it started feasting on me.

Socially I was withdrawn, Cowering at home, I’d let my phone ring out so much ignoring friends that I cannot stand James Morrison – Broken Strings (my ringtone at the time). My baby was three now so at nursery. This was when things really began to spiral, My mind wasn’t as occupied when my boy was at nursery so the Demon’s voice was more prominent his commands more clear, more invasive & more sinister. I started to get really scared, My husband has always been so supportive or me genuinely I couldn’t ask for anymore support from him, I joke that he constantly wears black to mask the shoulders drenched in my tears. Together a team like we always have been, we went back to the Doctors seeking more answers and help, I knew myself eventually the commandments of an inner built evil would make me crack and it terrified me.

Round im circles so many times still a propee diagnosis eluded me. Soon The Demon was feasting on my Willpower. Suicide Attempt number one came in the form of a massive overdose, It changed me and set me on a spiralling path of similar desperate attempts to end my life prematurely.


Attempts 2,3 & 4 followed varying in depravity and desperation, My husband seems to have an inner built sense to smell danger even from 7 miles away at his place of work, He has always ‘interupted’ my attempts and basically saved me. Today I can say im thankful of that.

Eventually after admission to Glasgows Leverndale (The Dale) hospital. A psychiatric evaluation finally found that ‘The Demon’ was actually a lovely monster called Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD for short).

Borderline personality disorder is a condition that affects how you think, feel and interact with other people.

Symptoms of borderline personality include being emotionally unstable, having upsetting thoughts and acting without thinking (Impuslivity which I cover in one of my blogs).

The main treatment for borderline personality disorder is a type of talking therapy called psychotherapy.

The cause of borderline personality disorder is unclear. It’s been linked to traumatic events during childhood, such as neglect or abuse.

Above is a generic description of what BPD does to me, Basically I’m black or white there is no Grey in between. Dangerously Sad or Euphorically happy. Suicidal or Elated.


Currently I’m on 30 tablets a day I cover most of these on my blog ‘Meds, Meds, Meds’. I don’t believe for a minute that I need this amount of medication, If I did then the Suicidal Attempts and episodes of self harm would surely have stopped? Anyway I’ll fast forward to current day me.

Couch bound, Emotionally & Physically drained, but determined more than ever that I get my life back. Two weeks ago I had my most recent Suicide attempt, No this wasn’t a cry for help – Swallowing 100 Paracetamol tablets & running away sounded like a very real and feasible end to the suffering I’ve endured for life. I, we, us – My family, My man and my two beautiful kids.

That Wednesday changed me it really did, My liver was failing, my insides burning, My grasp on life slipping away. This was the end. Thankfully not the end of my life but the End of my Mental Illness controlling and dictating my life, My kids need a Mummy, My Man needs a Mrs (Who else would clean up after him) and most of all the World needs me and my story. I’m new to this, This is new to me lets see where it takes me. Now I’m different. I’m never, ever gonna risk not seeing my kids grow old again. It ain’t happening, see if I need to have the hubby shadow me all day for periods it’ll happen, If I need to partially stalk my CPN then so be it. I’m here to stay, I made that promise for the first time ever. A child like promise ‘On my kids lives’ type of thing but that’s my take. I made the promise I’ll stick by it. This Mummy’s taking back control for good. 

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