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Thursday, May 5, 2016

The Painful Truth

Seventeen Years and Counting


It was seventeen years this March 11th that my son was born and one month later on April 11th that he died. It was at my hand that he died. I almost used the word fault, but I feel and believe had I known about Postpartum Psychosis and been treated for it, my son would be alive and celebrating his seventeenth birthday this year. So, while I feel responsible, it's hard not to, I refuse to use the word fault.




There's a very painful secret truth that anyone who is responsible for the taking of the life of another person, (and I cannot be certain if this just stems from solely being responsible for the life of the person you were also supposed to be the champion for as well that makes this as painful) but I suspect there would be some deeply rooted secret pain there regardless.

What I am trying to say is this:
When you know that the life you are responsible for was your very own child. Your flesh and bone. It becomes such an unbearable and intolerable pain, that moving through life at times becomes too much. For those of us who struggle with or who have struggled with suicide ideation in the past, you grasp at anything to hang onto.
Those moments when life becomes so raw and the world is so vicious. When there seems to be nothing but darkness and you are all alone inside your head. When you want to just have someone beside telling you everything is going to be alright. There are times when a hug would seem to set the world right again but you are sitting alone, looking at an empty room.
These are the most difficult moments. I know this. I live these moments too.

The struggle is real. It's been seventeen years and the grief, remorse, guilt changes over time but it doesn't go away. 
When you know you have taken a life, no matter the circumstances, it is such a difficult, daily thing to live with. It eats away at your soul and it never goes away. You just learn to deal with that gnawing feeling being ever present. There's a weight you feel upon your soul that even on your most carefree days, it's there. You don't normally tell anyone that at the drop of a hat, if someone said just the right thing in any given moment, it may make you burst into tears. Or no matter how happy you appear, there are any number of variables that will spring forth a memory.


It helps me to help others. At least try to help others. When I hear about moms suffering with Postpartum Psychosis and losing a child, their life, or both; it brings me back in time. I know where they are. It's such a scary feeling not understanding what's happening to you and even once you do, trying to climb out of that dark hole to find your way back onto even ground again. Start to understand what just happened to you and then deal with the grief and loss. Your family dynamics shift. People don't understand and many of them likely never will. You are scarred for life and most of those scars are not visible.

So many don't want to hear or know this painful truth. They just want you to get on with your life. They don't understand that this is your life now. This will always be your life and it would be wonderful if they could be a part of your painful truth. 


Natachia Barlow Ramsey; Postpartum Psychosis Survivor and Loser





~Be Loud, Be Purposeful, Be Strong, Be Courageous, Be Creative, Be Something~




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