PND

But what about when life is not fun? What about when you look around you, and everyone else seems to be coping with the ups and downs of the everyday, but you find yourself feeling alone and struggling to manage?
To love someone with postnatal depression must be incredibly hard and exhausting at times and requires so much patience. My darling husband has really been my rock especially over the last 18 months and has been a constant cheerleader to me. He has seen me at my worse, he has seen me broken, he has seen me hate myself and has still been able to love me.
Without sounding like a stalker fan, you've always been my queen of queens. I didn't think you could get any higher up my hierarchy of queenliness, but that was until yesterday when you opened up to the world about your fight with PND.
As a mum who went into Motherhood (wrongly) assuming that PND only happened to mothers who had a history of mental health problems, that it was something that happened to women who were not "strong' enough, that it meant they hated their children, I know firsthand how dangerous these misconceptions can be.
Now I look back and it was obvious that I had PND and also that I wasn't a bad mum, I was just struggling and trapped in my own self-doubting head. I couldn't get out the bed in the morning and spent most of my time either crying or wishing I could escape.
I've found parenting difficult and I'm certainly not the earth mother I had imagined myself to be. I've had PND, had a breakdown and have come out the other side, but I can confidently say I've been a good mum, caring mum, loving mum and my children are flourishing. I want another baby, not yet, but in a few years' time and this baby will complete our family as five.
Back then, The Unsung Mum was full of joy from having The Baby but that didn't last long. Once at home, The Unsung Mum started feeling a bit odd. See, like everyone, she'd heard of post-natal depression, but didn't actually know what it was.
I'm stronger than I ever believed and I have come out the other side more patient, empathetic and open minded than I was before. I also have two wonderful boys who came through it with me and for that I am eternally thankful.
I am incredibly proud and relieved to tell you that not only did I complete my personal mission of putting these demons to bed I actually managed to light the touch paper underneath every single one of them and watch as they want up in smoke and disappeared forever. You see, what I have come to realise in all its beautiful glory is that my illness and this geographical place are two separate entities that exist independently of each other. It is just a place. I am no longer ill.
There's something else that happens when comedians tackle things like mental illness: it creates a conversation. It lifts stigma in a more powerful way than a dozen earnest documentaries can do. It achieves that which seemed impossible that day I genuinely thought I'd never do comedy again: it makes it OK that I went through it - and it's OK if you went through it, too.