“Eliza Blossom...her birth was positive, powerful and quick! Using my yogic chanting I stayed in control, (in comparison to my son Felix’s birth which was 20 hours of wailing and screaming!) five pushes and there she was...my tiny, perfect, beautiful baby girl. I was utterly enchanted by her. That night in the hospital I was too drunk with happiness to sleep, I lay staring at her through the transparent sides of her cot, revelling blissfully in every tiny movement, each sweet sound, tears of joy tickling my cheeks. James, Felix and I were in love. Utterly.

Eliza was a dream baby! (A bit of a night owl, but how normal is that?) The summer was hot, we dangled her tiny toes into the paddling pool and I lay on a blanket under the cherry tree feeding her my milk... the cutest smile forever on her lips! When James returned to work I saw no end to my dreamy high, playing with her brother, entertaining friends, and relishing in my happy little family. Everything was perfect!

For a whole, deliciously beautiful six weeks.

It came like a thief in the night, almost in an instant, stealing my smile, an anxiety so deep it wormed its way into my very soul. I was devoured by postnatal depression and anxiety, and there was nothing I could do to escape it. Soon I was gone…. Gone to everyone who knew and loved me. All that remained was a shell of my former self.

This shell was wracked with an anxiety that brought constant tears to my eyes, a never-ending pounding in my chest, my veins seemed to shoot boiling blood through my body in sudden, crippling waves. I couldn’t cope with anything. I couldn’t eat, gagging on each tiny mouthful. All I could do was focus on surviving each second of every minute without running and screaming …somewhere…anywhere. Sometimes my amazing neighbours would receive a sudden knock on their door, and in I would flood..collapsing and sobbing in their hall. I didn’t want Felix to see me cry like that, but sometimes I couldn’t keep it in. I am forever in debt to those neighbours.

My husband James was incredible. He would literally carry me into the bathroom each morning and into the shower…sometimes I would faint in his arms, the panic flooding me like a powerful poison. I couldn’t be left alone with the children, and my amazing friends stepped in like an army of angels from Heaven, supporting James, supporting me. They would sit on the floor with me counting me through a sudden panic attack. Allow me to rest on their beds while they took care of Felix and Eliza. I will never be able to thank them enough for taking care of me.

My Health visitors were also amazing, the GP surgery receptionists gentle with me every time I called in hysterical tears. They believed I should take anti-depressants, the thought of which terrified me.

After trying every known natural therapy, but still falling into the depths of what felt like hell, I accepted medication was the only way forward. With my amazing health visitor by my side, I sat rocking and sobbing as I took my first tablet. I felt like a failure.

At first I felt worse than ever… but I pushed through each day, moving in with my amazing mum so I could be nurtured for a while. Each day seemed to melt into the next like one horrendous nightmare. When I returned home I seemed almost like a robot, going through the motions, nothing behind my eyes. Suddenly I saw the kitchen knives in a whole new light. They spoke to me…we can end your pain. Voices in my head would tell me to take the car, drive into a wall. At this point, my lowest point….my darkest moments…I wanted to die. I couldn’t live like that….

I was referred to a Psychiatrist. Luckily I was seen quickly, by an expert in PND and PTSD. I call him my angel professor. He added another type to my medication. He explained what was happening to my brain and how we WOULD fix it. He gave me hope, he saved me.

I kept a diary, scoring my days out of 10. I found that concentrating on tapestries or cross stitch gave me relief from the monster trying to keep it’s grip on my soul. I walked to the lake in the village and soaked up it’s beauty and calm. Slowly…so slowly…. I caught glimpses of a sudden smile on my face…or found myself laughing with Eliza, playing with Felix in a more natural way… eventually I was finding some calm, normality in each day, even if just for a few minutes. I could feel it…within my grasp….and I was going to fight with all my might to reach it.

I was able to take control of the panic within. I hated it and I told it where to go every time it reared it’s ugly head. It was no longer a feared monster, but an annoying mosquito buzzing in my ear. I batted it away…time and time again, 100’s of times a day…. It was utterly exhausting.

It took time. Lots of time and immense strength. As the months went past, my diary started showing days with no anxiety. None. Sometimes it would come back, but I knew I would be able to splat it.

I became so strong. Stronger than I ever imagined possible. A super human strength! I was back. Not the old me….but a much stronger version. Feeling “normal” had never felt so good and I would NEVER take feeling well for granted again. This feeling was incredible. Feeling well is incredible!

I fought PND like a warrior. I survived, it lost.

If I can come back from the brink of hell, I can do anything. And, if I can do it, so can you.

I have grabbed that positivity and poured it into Shine. I want to give mums the peer support that makes such a difference. I didn't have someone who "gets it". I want to give mums the chance to be creative, as I know it can bring peace and calm. I want to give the mums the chance to re-charge, that "me time" is so crucial.

I want mums to know that they will Shine once more.”