DANGEROUS MINDS
“Numb, a pane of glass between myself and the rest of the world. Usually I’m drawn to colour and sparkle, but it doesn’t matter how much the sun shines... it still won’t warm my face. This is meant to be the happiest time of my life, at last I have my much-longed-for baby, but I’ve never been so desolate... I’m frightened of what will become of my mind. I’m a crazy lady. I had always been capable, confident and the person who could cope with anything. Now I can’t sleep despite my weariness. But if I do pass out, I dream frightening dreams and I fear I’m turning into my beautiful mother. She’s lived with bipolar disorder, and I don’t want to have those same struggles. But it’s her who I first ask for help as I know she will understand... Mum tells me no amount of pretending is going to make my depression disappear. When I confess my sadness to my husband, he takes me in his strong arms and explains that everything is going to be okay. He organises for me to see a psychiatrist who says to drop the act and stop pretending. I have postnatal depression. It doesn’t mean I’m a failure, or a bad mum. It takes its good time, but antidepressants and the love of my family, chocolate and cats has returned the glitter to my life.” – JOURNALIST AND AUTHOR JESSICA ROWE
Good mental health is something many of us take for granted, yet Jessica Rowe’s publicly documented battle with her personal demons is more common than we realise. In fact, according to beyondblue, one in five Australian women will experience depression (one in 10 women while they’re pregnant and almost one in seven women during the first year after the birth) and one in three women will experience anxiety during their life. Women also experience some mental health conditions, such as depression, anxiety and posttraumatic stress, at higher rates than men. With motherhood, menopause, discrimination, violence, financial position and gender roles all having an impact on our wellbeing, we speak to three women who are advocating for change. Parenthood is supposed to bring you joy, but after having a baby, a fog descended that was darker and thicker and more suffocating than anything I’d ever known. I was sinking into postpartum depression, and it happened with terrifying swiftness. Looking back, I can see the symptoms emerging clearly enough, though at the time it was a blur – the rapid weight loss and loss of appetite, the insomnia, the panic attacks over the doorbell or the ring of the phone, the anger, irritation and sense of my nerves being frayed. I looked at my baby and only saw a stranger. I lay in bed and planned out ways to die.
Suicide is one of the leading causes of maternal death during pregnancy and in the first year after birth; this is something we don’t talk about. In their most severe forms, postpartum depression and psychosis often feature suicidal ideation – intrusive thoughts of ending your life.
According to Perinatal Anxiety & Depression Australia, around 100,000 Australian parents suffer from perinatal depression or anxiety annually; far from being an individual sorrow, it’s a nationwide health crisis. And it’s one that we can’t afford to ignore.
In recent years, experts have come out in support of an increase in mother-and-baby beds in mental-health facilities, diagnosing postpartum conditions as a “psychiatric emergency”. The mental healthcare system is underfunded, overburdened and difficult to navigate. It’s confusing at the best of times, but desperately impossible when sinking into illness, with a newborn breaking your concentration and sleep.
“It’s time to recognise maternal mental illness as a major feminist issue”
I look at my child now and I do feel joy, an immense happiness in his beauty. I am alive and I am well, but I know how easily it could have gone the other way, for me and for countless other women. It’s time to recognise maternal mental illness as a major feminist issue, and bring the risk of bearing children into the light.