‘What do you mean you can’t do it anymore?’
Harriet let the words wash over her as she sat, head in hands, on the bed. She was exhausted. She just couldn’t have this same conversation over and over anymore, she had had enough and Nancy’s explosion had just confirmed what she thought in her head. She wasn’t coping.
She lifted her head and blinked away the tears that had begun to form in her eyes. ‘I can’t do this.’ She gestured to the other room with her hand, indicating the children. ‘I’m rubbish at it and I don’t know what I’m doing.’
She watched Nancy look over to the room, then back to her. ‘I don’t understand.’ She moved and sat on the bed next to Harriet.
‘This is what I mean. You don’t understand because you get it, you can do it. You have a lovely relationship with Jack and you don’t find it easy, but you still manage to do it – it comes naturally to you.’
‘What does?’
‘Being a mum!’ she shouted, throwing her hands up and slapping them back down onto her knees. ‘You just seem to know what to do, when to do it and how you’re going to do it. Me? I can’t get through a day without failing in some way.’
‘Failing? Shut up, you are not failing.’ Nancy laughed, obviously trying to be reassuring that Harriet was being silly, but Harriet took it offensively, like she was being laughed at and it made her more frustrated.
‘Nancy, I am. I look at all these mums on my Facebook page or at the school gates and they totally have their shit together. And it comes easy to them; they don’t even have to think about it. I have to really think about every single thing I do. It’s so hard.’
‘See, that’s where you’re going wrong – straightaway,’ Nancy replied, and Harriet frowned, confused. ‘You’re too busy comparing yourself to all the other bloody parents out there.’
‘You can bloody talk!’ Harriet responded, thinking about how Nancy beat herself up over being a parent to an autistic child and thinking others were coping better than she was.
‘Yes exactly, but I am saying do as I say, not as I do.’ They both started laughing and Nancy leaned over and gave Harriet a cuddle. ‘You’re not a crap mum – you’re one of the hardest-working mummies I know. You just need to learn when enough is enough.’
‘Nance, I feel like I’m going mad.’ Her voice was small and childlike.
‘Why?’
Harriet paused for a moment, deciding whether to be honest and say what had been playing on her mind for months now or whether to keep covering it up and hoping it would go away, which would be the easier option. But she wasn’t sure how much longer her sanity would keep her going. Admitting the truth about how she was feeling would show she was weak, and regardless of how long she had known Nancy, and she knew her friend wouldn’t judge her, admitting she was struggling as much as she was meant that she had to admit to herself that she was failing at something. And Harriet didn’t fail at anything. If she wanted to be the successful person she so desperately wanted to be and show Andy that he was the one losing out, then she couldn’t admit to failing at anything. Not her job and not her parenting.
But the more she thought about it, the more she panicked that maybe this was no longer in her control. Mentally and emotionally, she did not have control at all. Work was controlling her and the feeling frightened her.
Nancy’s voice pulled her out of the haze. ‘You know you can talk to me. I know you don’t like to open up but honestly, if you keep bottling things up inside it will drive you mad.’
Harriet took a deep breath. ‘I think there’s something wrong with me.’ The words barely came out. They felt sticky in her throat and she had to really force them to come up. ‘I don’t feel … I mean, I kind of … um,’ she shifted on the bed. ‘It’s just I … um…’
Nancy put her hand on Harriet’s to steady her. ‘It’s OK, what is it?’
Harriet looked at her friend and felt an overwhelming urge to burst into tears. ‘I haven’t told anyone this, just remember that, OK?’ Nancy nodded. ‘And I’m not proud of myself.’
‘O … K…’
‘And please don’t hate me…’
‘Oh God, Hari, are you in some sort of trouble? Because you know I’ll stand by you, but if you’ve killed someone I’m not helping you bury the body – I don’t think I could handle that.’
Harriet slapped her on the arm playfully. ‘I haven’t killed anyone, you daft cow!’
‘Well that’s a relief because I was starting to picture us being cellmates and I don’t think orange is my colour.’
‘I think it’s only orange in America – you watch too much TV!’
‘Good to know.’
Another pause. ‘I don’t feel close to Tommy.’
Nancy nodded. ‘In what way, because you work all the time?’
Harriet shook her head. ‘I feel like we don’t have … like … a bond.’ She looked away, ashamed of herself.
‘And how long have you felt like this?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know, I guess I never felt like I connected with him right from the start. He came so quickly and I wasn’t prepared at work for him to come and Dickhead wasn’t any help and it was hard juggling both a newborn and the workload and I guess I just felt like he was—’she stopped, hanging her head. ‘I just felt like everything was fine before he came along.’ She hiccupped and let a tear fall. ‘I’m such a shit.’
‘Hey, no you’re not!’ Nancy pulled her closer.
‘I went to the doctor’s.’
‘When?’
‘When Tommy was about 12 weeks.’ She sniffed and wiped her cheek with her hand. ‘He said I had postnatal depression.’
‘Oh my God, Harriet, why didn’t you talk to me!’ Her tone was firm but it was laden with love, and with sadness. It just made Harriet feel guilty.
‘Because I didn’t want anyone to know that I had failed – yet again!’
‘You didn’t fail, you were depressed.’
‘But how can all these other mums do it and enjoy it and here I am, incapable of doing just the normal things any parent does. I just kept crying every time I looked at him and then he would cry and then Isla would cry.’
‘And what did the doctor say to you?’
‘I had some counselling but the woman just made me feel worse. So I pretended that everything was getting better and I got really good at acting like everything was fine. But Nance…’ She paused and looked her in the eye. ‘Everything isn’t ok. I’m struggling and I don’t know what to do.’
‘It’s OK, we will sort this. The main thing is that you’ve spoken to me about it and that is the first step, so halle-fucking-lujah for that. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me!’
Harriet appreciated Nancy’s no-nonsense talk. If she had turned around and been nice to her and soft-spoken, she would probably have broken down and then it would have got messy. Nancy knew Harriet and she knew how she worked, she knew that Harriet would be more receptive to the harsh, regimented approach.
‘Nance, Tommy is over a year old now – it can’t still be postnatal depression. So what is going on – why am I struggling so much?’
‘I don’t think there’s a set time on postnatal depression, especially if you never really got proper help for it. The main thing is that you are talking about it. Now that you’ve spoken to me, you need to speak to a professional.’ Harriet was already shaking her head. ‘What?’
‘No, I can’t go back to counselling. The woman made me feel even worse, as though she was looking down her nose at me and smiling with a face like one I wanted to slap.’
‘Well, what about your mum?’
Harriet burst out laughing, a little too loudly than was necessary. ‘If there was ever a person who makes me feel worse than how I feel about myself, it’s my mother.’
‘What? I thought she’d been alright recently?’
‘No, she’s got really bad again. She had a go at me because Tommy was in kids’ club and I was working.’
‘That’s why you got him out of kids’ club.’
Harriet looked ashamed. ‘I just wanted to try doing the right thing, but it just feels so alien to me. With Isla it was different, I couldn’t tell you why. I just felt like with her I got things done and it all happened without any problem but with Tommy, it’s like wading through mud just to do the simplest of tasks.’
‘Do you think that maybe it’s because you had more support when you had Isla at home?’
‘But their dad was still around when Tommy was born.’
‘Not really though, was he? I mean, in person he was there but emotionally you two were already separated. Do you think that maybe with Isla you were a team but when you had Tommy, essentially you were a single parent before Andy even left?’
Harriet considered this for a moment. ‘I guess.’
‘But you still feel like it with Tommy now?’ she pressed.
‘Yeah, I just feel like I don’t know him and he’s always crying and whinging – it’s like he doesn’t like me.’
‘I think that’s probably more a case of he’s sensing that you’re stressed. Kids are like that, they know when you aren’t feeling right so maybe he’s sensing your anxiety and that’s making him feel anxious too?’
‘But I can’t help it.’
‘I didn’t say you could.’ Nancy paused. ‘Is that why you are being funny with that Jayne? Because you think she’s interfering?’
Harriet shook her head. ‘No, I just don’t want her to see how much I can’t do it. I don’t want anyone to see that I can’t do it. The fewer mum friends I have, the less people can judge and look down their noses at me.’
‘Hari, they’re not judging you—’
‘Some of them are, Nance.’
‘Do you know what, they probably are, but isn’t that their problem? I feel judged all the time and I agree, it sucks! You’re not alone, Hari, I’m right there with you feeling like a rubbish parent. But I guess, we are doing our best and ultimately, we are doing it because we love our children and we want them to be happy. Am I right?’ Harriet nodded. ‘I am on this journey with you, I’m not against you. Don’t shut me out because right now you need support from someone who loves you and guess what … that someone is me.’ She smiled and Harriet wiped away the moisture from her face.
‘Why does it have to be so damn hard?’
‘Right, step one – stop feeling sorry for yourself. Step two – you need to see a doctor so that they can help you emotionally and step three – you need to make an effort with Jayne. I think she will be good for you. Just try and enjoy her company. See what happens.’
‘I guess.’
Nancy took her hand. ‘Hari, I am here for you. I won’t laugh at you when you get things wrong and I won’t judge you. Trust me. Stop trying to take the world on your shoulders. You are always there for me when I struggle with Jack, now it’s my turn to repay the gesture. Friends for twenty-two years, Hari, you know I’ve got your back.’
‘Thanks Nance,’ Harriet squeaked.
‘Right, get in the shower and get ready – we are going to a beach party!’