Living through illness, motherhood, and medical dismissal
Author’s Note: This part of my story holds heavy truths: the years I felt unseen, misdiagnosed, and pushed aside. I’m sharing it because I know others live with similar silence. If you’ve ever struggled to feel heard in your own body or mind, you’re not alone. I offer this piece with care—for those navigating the same shadows.
⚠️ Trigger Warning: This story discusses reproductive health struggles, chronic illness, and mental health challenges including ADHD. Please take care as you read.
The Early Years
From a young age, my health was a challenge. I lived with anxiety and depression that only worsened in my teens. My periods were debilitating—painful, heavy, and impossible to ignore. School and college became impossible to attend regularly. By the time I finished education, I was already emotionally and physically worn down.
Eventually, I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD)—a complex condition affecting emotional regulation and relationships. But instead of compassion, I was met with stigma. I was told medication wouldn’t help… then handed a prescription anyway.
After my parents split, I was left without a stable home—sleeping on a friend’s sofa, trying desperately to hold myself together.
Light in the Darkness
Things slowly shifted when I started dating my now-husband, Sam. We’d been close friends for three years and—perhaps inevitably—we fell in love.
In 2017, I became pregnant with our first child, Rory. Despite a diagnosis of gestational diabetes, I focused on building a family. But after Rory was born, my mental health spiralled. I believe I experienced postnatal depression, but because of my earlier BPD diagnosis, I wasn’t taken seriously.
In 2019, Arthur arrived—just before the pandemic. Raising two small children through lockdown was isolating and exhausting. Thankfully, I was supported by the Perinatal Mental Health Team.
Then came our surprise third baby, William. Near the end of pregnancy, I developed pre-eclampsia. William was born early and spent time in NICU due to withdrawal symptoms from my prescribed mental health medication. It was terrifying—but he recovered.
On 5th November 2022, Sam and I married in a quiet registry office ceremony.It was perfect- intimate, simple, and full of love. |
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Refusing to Disappear
After William’s birth, my mental health collapsed. Sam had to give up work to care for both me and the children. I no longer felt the BPD diagnosis fit—but my GP refused reassessment.
At the same time, my gynaecological symptoms worsened. In December 2021, a consultant told me everything looked “normal.” I was offered the pill (which had never helped) or the coil (which I declined, after trauma with the implant). It felt like I was being told to just accept the pain.
The next two years became a blur of GP visits, cancelled appointments, formal complaints, and constant dismissal. I was eventually offered a uterine ablation—but it didn’t help. It made everything worse.
Those years tested me deeply. But looking back, they taught me how fiercely we fight for ourselves when no one else will.
