My journey through perinatal anxiety and depression.

TRIGGER WARNING: this story contains information about self harm. 

I am normally quite a private person and, therefore, I never thought I would be talking so openly about my journey through Anxiety and Post Natal Depression. I also never thought that the birth of my beautiful baby boy, would lead to one of my greatest challenges. But I’m a better, healthier and happier person, having faced that adversity. I hope that by sharing my story it will give hope to parents facing the same challenges that, even in the darkest days, recovery is possible.

I clearly remember the home visit by my Maternal and Child Health Nurse, three days after coming home from hospital. I was instantly drawn to her warm smile and knowing eyes. She sat next to me on the couch as I attempted to breastfeed. She helped me relax, which helped me attach my son, and she gave me some great tips. Before long, we began chatting about how my husband and I had set up our baby’s room, and about my labour and the birth.

Although being quite a private person, the MCH nurse made me feel comfortable enough to also share that my eldest sister has bipolar disorder, and that my elder brother suicided at the age of 25, after a long battle with schizophrenia.

She gave me a big cuddle and said she would stick a PANDA sticker next to my name in my son’s little green Health and Development Record book.Health book This would remind her to take extra care of me at my MCH visits, as given my family history; I was predisposed to postnatal depression. I shrugged it off, little knowing how right she would be.

Not long after, my mental state started to go downhill. I was exhausted, yet had trouble sleeping. “Sleep when baby sleeps” was just not happening. I was kept awake by night sweats and terrible racing thoughts. “Could something fall into my baby’s bassinet and suffocate him?”, “Maybe his nappy is on too tight and could cut off his circulation”, “Maybe someone could break in to the house and kidnap him”, “Maybe he’s too hot, maybe he’s too cold”. These thoughts would play over and over in my mind.

I had a constant sick feeling, which put me off eating, and I lost a lot of weight. I was irritable and angry, snapping at the smallest things. I felt hopeless and dead inside. I began to isolate myself from family and friends. I would often close all the blinds, after my husband left for work.blinds

As my mental state deteriorated, I had trouble bonding with baby. Some days I couldn’t even bear to look at him. I felt like he was not my son. Other days I would just wish that someone would take my son away from me, and that I’d be rid of all my internal pain. Yet I constantly worried about him. I wouldn’t let anyone outside my immediate family touch or hold him, and I’d check his temperature almost every hour. I became so overwhelmed and exhausted that I started to plan my escape. I just wanted it to all end.

My husband and the rest of my family noticed things didn’t seem right, and urged me to speak to my Maternal Child Health Nurse or my GP. Yet I was too afraid that I would lose my son. That my horrid thoughts would send me to a mental ward – or worse yet, prison – and that I’d never see my son again.

I’d have panic attacks, or go silent as my thoughts took over. My sister would call me daily and calm me down. I felt comforted knowing she was on the line. My mum lived next door, and most days would come and just sit with me. I was afraid to be alone with my thoughts. My husband would secretly call my friends and ask them to visit. They’d bring me lunch, make me tea, and even helped me start my son on solids. They knew something wasn’t right, but I think they were too afraid to say something that might “tip me over the edge”.

Then one day, I explicitly told mum that I was contemplating suicide. She knew I was serious, and she was determined not to lose another child that way. She immediately phoned my GP, and luckily I got in to see her that day. Yet, I was still afraid that the GP would have me locked up, and my son taken from me. So, I went under the guise of him being unwell.

Luckily, my GP saw through this. She asked my mum to leave the room and began asking me questions. I finally broke down and told her everything. She wrote me out a Mental Health Care Plan, a script for antidepressants and a referral to a psychiatrist.

When the psychiatrist diagnosed me with Generalised Anxiety Disorder and Postnatal Depression, things started to get better. I got medication to help with my anxiety. For the first two weeks it exacerbated my suicidal thoughts, which is a common side effect. Mum monitored me while my husband was at work, and then it started to really help.

I also saw a psychologist at Tweddle Child and Family Health, with support under the Mental Health Care Plan. At first, I resisted this treatment. I was still too afraid to speak up about my horrid thoughts. But as I began to trust the psychologist, I realised the therapy was helping me work through my issues, including my brother’s death. I was very lucky that my husband came with me to my initial visits, and still loved me in spite of the person I had become.

I now know that this treatment played an important role in my recovery – not to mention the love and support of my GP, my family and close friends. I only wish that I had spoken up sooner. I really want to get the message across to anyone who is struggling: please get help as quickly as possible, so that recovery is not delayed.

I can’t tell you the exact day that things started to shift for me. But I can tell you what I started to notice. For one, I began opening the blinds, one by one. blinds openI felt the fog lift, and I began socialising and making friends with new mums in my area. Most importantly, I saw my beautiful baby boy wanting his mummy so much. I realised how precious he is to me, and I felt an overwhelming sense of love and happiness that I longed for, and had so missed.

If you or someone you know needs help, please call Lifeline on 13 11 14 website:, beyond blue on 1300 224 636 website: or PANDA on 1300 726 306 website

Anxiety and Parenting

A snapshot of what anxiety and parenting looks and feels like to me.

You may see me passing by you in the street, happily pushing my toddler in the pram. I may be smiling and, sometimes, you may even see me laugh with my son as he babbles away. But what you may not see as I am pushing that pram is that I have anxiety, more specifically, Generalised Anxiety Disorder (GAD). What is Generalised Anxiety Disorder? In short, it basically means that I am in a constant state of worry and feel tense most of the time. Having GAD is harder to spot than, say, if I was walking down the street with a broken arm or leg. On a bad day, I experience other symptoms along with worry and tension, such as heart palpitations, racing thoughts, nausea and throbbing pain in my head, I find it difficult to concentrate, I am fidgety, I struggle to be in the moment and have trouble sleeping.

So, what does parenting with GAD look and feel like to me? Well, there are challenges. For example, on days where I am nauseas and have a throbbing head because I have had trouble sleeping the night before, you will find me on the couch with a heat pack on my forehead because I am in pain. At the same time, my son will climb on top of me and tug at my hair. My son is doing this because he wants to me play with him. Aside from being in pain, I feel guilty, because at that moment of being in pain I just need to feel better and can’t engage with my son, as he would like me to.

Then, there are other times when I miss cues that my son wants my attention because my head is full of worry and racing thoughts. I worry about the well being of my family, finances, the future and then insignificant things such as the weather, grocery shopping, what to cook, the washing and cleaning that hasn’t been done. In that time, whilst my mind is drifting, my son may be have shown me two or three cues that he needs me and then he will start acting out because I have missed them. I also struggle to be in the moment. I could be reading a story to my son and drift off in thought, while my son sits there looking at me waiting for me to finish a simple story I had started 15 minutes ago. I do believe that it must be frustrating for him – another thing to worry about it.

Aside from the challenges there are many big rewards to parenting an active toddler whilst having Generalised Anxiety Disorder. Firstly, when my fearless son jumps off the bed, jumps off slides or fumbles down a flight of stairs then picks himself up and keeps moving, like nothing has happened, then my anxiety starts to wane. My son has shown me through his fearlessness, how to enjoy life and be more carefree. His playful nature and ability to laugh at the silliest things distracts me from my worry and there are many times that I am able to be in the moment with him and delight in him.

Finally, what I have found since being diagnosed with Generalised Anxiety Disorder and is extremely important to remember is; self care. Without it, I would not be in a position to be a good mother to my son, not to mention a loving partner to my husband. So what does self care look like for me? Well, there are simple steps I take to ensure I look after myself. Firstly, an uninterrupted shower in the morning and good coffee helps me to start the day. I really enjoy a good coffee so in the morning after I have given my son breakfast, we hop in the car and go to my favourite coffee place and I enjoy my coffee while my son munches on a snack. On other days, I will pick up the phone and chat to my sister or my close friends. I also really enjoy going for walks with my son in the pram. We both love being in the fresh air, enjoying what the world has to offer outside and that is when you may pass me, smiling in the street.

About me

Hi, my name is Josie and I am a Melbourne mum of two.  Three months after giving birth in 2014, I suffered severe anxiety and depression and was diagnosed with Generalised Anxiety Disorder and Post Natal Depression.  Then in 2018, four months after the birth of my second child, Lily, PND reared its ugly head again.  Since those experience, a healthier, happier and a better person emerged.  Through recovery, I decided I wanted to give back.  I am currently volunteering with Perinatal Anxiety and Depression Australia (PANDA) as a community educator and through my blog –  Smiling After PND, I am inspired to give hope to parents facing the same challenges that, even in the darkest days, recovery from PND can be possible.



Love and smiles ❤️