FamilyPeachTwig

11 Sept 4 min read

When Your Mind Becomes Your Worst Enemy

Good day, Eucarl readers. I am writing anonymously about my cousin, who developed postpartum psychosis after her second child. After giving birth, she became exhausted, emotional and unable to sleep. She insisted she was fine but soon believed someone was watching her. She woke her husband, claiming someone had entered the compound, and said God had warned her that something terrible would happen to the baby. Our family debated whether she needed prayer, deliverance or rest. One night, she handed the baby to her husband and said, “Please don’t leave me alone with the children. I don’t trust my thoughts.” The next morning, they took her to hospital. Doctors said she might be experiencing postpartum psychosis, a serious psychiatric emergency. The relatives who had blamed spiritual problems began asking about medication and therapy. Her sister later said, “We were waiting for her to behave normally before we believed she needed help.” I have never forgotten that. The Lindsay Clancy case made me think about this even more. Her lawyers argued that she suffered postpartum psychosis when she killed her three children, while prosecutors argued that she was criminally responsible. The jury could not reach a unanimous decision, resulting in a mistrial. Her lawyer later asked the judge to find her not guilty by reason of insanity. I am not saying whether Clancy should be forgiven or punished. Three children died, and nothing can change that. But the case raises difficult questions about how society should respond when severe mental illness destroys someone’s understanding of reality. Postpartum psychosis is rare but extremely serious. It can involve hallucinations, delusions and a loss of contact with reality. Most mothers with postpartum mental illness are not dangerous, but warning signs should never be ignored. My cousin eventually recovered. She says the hardest part was not only the illness, but knowing people interpreted her symptoms as bad behaviour. Her story taught us that understanding someone’s condition is not the same as excusing their actions. Compassion does not remove accountability, and accountability does not mean ignoring mental illness. A mother may prepare food, answer messages and smile while her mind becomes frightening and unfamiliar. People may praise her strength without noticing that she has not slept for days. They may say every new mother is tired or that she should be grateful. Sometimes the person who needs help most is expected to keep caring for everyone else. My cousin remembers those days in fragments: the baby’s crying, bright hospital lights and relatives whispering nearby. She felt ashamed of her frightening thoughts and believed a good mother should feel only love. Because she loved her children, she thought those thoughts proved she was evil. That made her hide more, and hiding made the fear worse. Postpartum psychosis can make danger feel real. A mother may hear a voice, see a shadow or believe an ordinary event is a warning. Telling her to calm down may not help. She needs safety, patience and urgent professional care. Her husband was frightened and confused. He did not know whether to comfort her, challenge her or call someone. Partners can also carry terror, exhaustion and guilt. Recovery required medicine, appointments, sleep, family support and dignity. Families should know that sudden confusion, extreme suspicion, hallucinations, unusual religious beliefs, frantic energy and several sleepless nights can be warning signs. A mother does not have to threaten anyone before her condition becomes urgent. Waiting for undeniable danger may mean waiting too long. Faith and medical care need not be enemies. Prayer may comfort a family, but it cannot replace emergency treatment when someone has lost contact with reality. Relatives can pray while calling a doctor and keeping the mother and children safe. We should also choose our language carefully. Calling a mother “crazy,” “possessed” or “attention-seeking” deepens shame. Saying she is “just tired” can dismiss a crisis. At the same time, not every struggling mother is dangerous. Postpartum depression, anxiety and psychosis are different conditions, and most mothers experiencing them will never harm their children. My cousin’s story ended with recovery, but it could have ended differently. What protected her was that someone listened when she said, “I do not trust my thoughts.” That was not a confession of evil. It was a request for rescue. How many mothers never get the chance to say it? How many fear that honesty will make them lose their babies? How many relatives notice something unusual but remain silent because of embarrassment? We cannot undo the suffering caused by postpartum psychosis or prevent every tragedy. But we can make danger easier to recognise. Mental health deserves the same seriousness as bleeding, infection or high blood pressure.