Depression stopped me in the kitchen

(MY story #1) I remember this day vividly – especially that one moment. I’m standing in my old kitchen, staring at the to-do list for my son’s third birthday. The guests have arrived, children are running everywhere, the party is in full swing in the garden – and I’m standing in the kitchen, completely frozen.

This was an unfamiliar feeling for me. I’m the person who has everything under control. The one who moves quickly, sees what needs doing, and gets it done. I’m organised. I plan ahead. I prepare everything in advance so that things run smoothly.

Not this time.

This time, I simply did not know what to do or where to start.

Thankfully, I wasn’t alone. My friend noticed I was struggling and quietly took over. I showed her the list, and she did it – all of it.

That moment of total inertia, that shutdown, that inability to move – in the middle of my own son’s third birthday party – stayed with me. And it was only when my friend stepped in that something clicked. I realised, looking back, that this was the beginning of my postnatal depression. It had crept up on me four months after my third baby was born, and I hadn’t even seen it coming.

My internal voice had shifted to: “I can’t cope”.

It took me five years to start seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.