So I was done with this blogging malarkey. But, after recent events I thought it was only fair I did another update. My husband has taken a lot of flack for pulling out of a move to Perth this summer. As predicted, the media and social networks went in to overdrive meaning that the trolls came out of the woodwork. This was to be expected and we thought we were prepared for it. I escaped with relatively no abuse despite people assuming we stayed because of my awful pregnancy. My husband however has taken a LOT of stick and been accused of being offered more money and getting greedy. Most of the time he has kept a dignified silence, and I’ve bitten my finger to stop me replying to all the nasty tweets. Nobody wants to see someone they love bombarded with abusive messages. On many occasions we laughed. Not because we thought it was funny, but because we couldn’t believe most of these people sending abuse were grown men and women. Unbelievable.
Anyway, before this turns in to a full blown rant, let me begin…
My daughter was born in September 2012. My mum had warned me about the day 3/4 baby blues. They came and I cried for no particular reason. I remember phoning my cousins wife to apologise that she didn’t get in to see me and crying so hard I could barely speak! But this was normal, I’d just had a baby and it would pass….wouldn’t it?
After a horrific pregnancy I was looking forward to feeling normal again and enjoying life as a mum. Unfortunately as the days and months went on the crying continued and I got so low that I wanted to go to sleep and never wake up again. It took me 4 months to admit that things weren’t right. My husband knew I wasn’t myself but maybe we both put it down to being new parents. I even kept it from my mum, who I saw most days. When people say that mental illness is an invisible illness they are absolutely right. It’s easy to keep people from knowing something is wrong when you don’t want them to. I didn’t have any bruises, marks or scars so I was obviously perfectly fine, right? Nothing could have been further from the truth.
Everything was a struggle. Sleeping, eating, everything. I had no idea how I was supposed to look after a little person and thought I was awful at it. Maybe I still am but she’s a happy, healthy and content little girl so I must be doing something right. Simple things like leaving the house to meet friends, go to the shop or even walk the dog seemed impossible to do with a baby. I convinced myself that it was just easier and safer to stay at home and avoid any kind of interaction with people. I mean, god forbid my baby cried, needed fed or changed!
In January the decision was made to move to Perth. At the time that’s what we all felt was best. I know what I signed up for when I got married and have always been prepared to have to move. When I met my husband I had been living in Glasgow for nearly 8 years. It’s his fault I ended up back in The Highlands! We quickly realised that a move, any move, wasn’t in the best interests of our family. I went to see my GP towards the end of January and she couldn’t believe it had taken me so long to go and see her. I completely broke down the minute I sat in the chair and was diagnosed with post natal depression. I remember getting a visit from my health visitor not long after I gave birth to my daughter. She handed me a piece of paper, a pen and sat in silence until I answered a questionnaire. My score would determine whether or not I had PND! Seriously, a questionnaire?! Funnily enough, not wanting anyone to know that something was wrong my ‘score’ gave me a clean bill of health. This was easy given that I ticked all the boxes that said “I feel wonderful” as opposed to those that said “I want to die” 😄.
The decision to stay in The Highlands was a family one. It was decided that was what was best all round in order for me to recover. Doesn’t everyone make decisions based on what is best for their family? The difference is others aren’t judged and criticised for it by complete strangers! I can understand fans in Perth being disgruntled, of course I can, but that doesn’t excuse some of the disgusting abuse they have subjected my husband to. Anyone who knows me knows that I can take a joke and often give as good as I get! But sometimes it just goes too far. One fan even made a comment on a photo my husband posted of my daughters toy. Too far.
The decision to stay was without a doubt the right one for our family. What other people think means little to me but it’s gone too far when the person who has been my biggest support is getting abuse on a daily basis. We made the right decision and maybe in time fans will realise this was a decision based on what was best for the whole family, and not a football/money based one.