Four days after my child was born, I began experiencing postpartum psychosis. What I learned changed my life
The first time I start hallucinating I am home, alone, with my baby. Drunk from lack of sleep I watch as his features morph in and out of shape. I take photo after photo, trying to capture what I see.
A few days later, while I am pushing the pram outside, it happens again. I pull the hood down to hide my baby from prying eyes. I no longer know who I can trust.
I am dead, I am dead. And because I am dead it won’t matter if I take my own life. No one can miss what was never real.
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