I Felt Like A Stranger In My Own Body. 

PTSD. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

For me It was like a never ending whirl wind. The Flashbacks were awful. Remembering things that you can’t explain. It makes you confused, frustrated and leaves you lost in your own mind. I’d wake screaming.

I use to shout out and wake up sweating, I still get Flashbacks now if I am in a medical setting or something In general reminds me of that moment.

I had to ask my husband what happened to me, over and over again. Why did this happen?

Looking back now I never once thought, how he was dealing with it all? I mean he had to. I was in no physical or mental state to care for a baby. I couldn’t even care for myself.
When I finally bonded with my baby, things got worse.

I became paranoid and over protective. Anxious, sad, angry for what happened to me.

I look back and feel nothing but guilt. A feeling I fear will never leave me. I wasn’t there for her in the beginning. I wasn’t able to give her, her first cuddle, her first kiss or even her first bath. I felt like the worst mother in the world and questioned if I was ever even meant to be a mother.

Surely it shouldn’t be this hard?

With these feelings came the anxiety, tight pains in my chest and the heavy breathing. Not wanting to take her out for fear of what might happen. I’d lay awake all night staring at the monitor imagining she would stop breathing at any time.

When I did sleep the nightmares came. What if this happened to her? What would I do? I can’t go back to that hospital. I just can’t. I use to lay awake and plan out what I would do.

I became paranoid at letting people look after her. No one was good enough. She wouldn’t be safe.

I became over protective and when I did take her out I gripped the buggy so tight my knuckles went white. I constantly looked around. I hated when people came over to the buggy. I just wanted to stay in my house and shut the world out.

When I started counselling I found it hard to open up. I felt that all medical or NHS employees were the enemy. They failed me how can they help me now. I felt nothing but hatred towards them. After being told ‘ I’m sure they didn’t mean it’ I left.

I found a private counsellor and she was amazing. I stuck to my appointments and after a few months found the courage to open up. It was my time to get my emotions off my chest, not be judged or told, ‘I’m sure they didn’t meant that to happen.’

It was my time for someone to listen and give advice if needed or asked.

Some guidance.

I would be lost and may not be here today if it wasn’t for my husband pushing me to get help. It was the best thing I ever did.

It took me 10 months but I finally plucked the courage to take her to a baby music group. At first it was daunting, walking into a room full of new mums talking about their birth experiences. But as time had passed I made some very close friends and was able to open up to them about what happened, they have been a great support.

I found writing helped me, I wrote every thought and feeling down when I found time. I wanted it off my mind.

I still suffered three years on. I think most people have an agenda and I’m so anxious. I hate being in a situation where I feel people will judge me if I tell them my story. The Anxiety gets so bad sometimes I’m sick. I’m on antidepressants that help to control my moods. I decided to go on them as I started having suicidal thoughts. It is all I could think of. With the support of my husband and seeing a new counsellor. I was on my way to recover. My daughter is four soon and I don’t want another year to be about my mental health. I know it won’t go away just like that. But I plan to focus on me, now that she is at nursery. I want to be a better, healthier person so that she has the mother she deserves. But for me to. So one day I can say ‘I beat my depression’

Now that may never happen but as long as I keep reaching out for support, then hopefully I am going in the right direction.

I look back and see how far I’ve come. It took a lot of courage to share these experiences with you. I just hope, that if you can relate, I have helped you to understand that you are not alone.

Mummy Thomas

Poem-My Miracle and My Nightmare

My Blog



  1. Well done for writing this. This resonated with me because my mum suffered from really, really bad PND and we never bonded, unfortunately. I hope your relationship with your daughter improves.
    I also spent 3 years (16-19) seeing an NHS psychiatrist once a week and although I was “lucky” to skip all the queues because I was dangerously ill physically and mentally, I hated every moment. I still suffer from PTSD and I’m 22 now. It’s shit, but life does get better when the right people walk into your life💕

    Liked by 1 person

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