Out of nowhere, when my baby was 8 weeks old, OCD hit me like a ton of bricks. I was bedbound and scared of everything. I lost 4 stone because my body was in constant fight-or-flight mode – I was skin and bones. After a few weeks passed, no one knew what was happening to me. My partner left me with three kids aged 8, 6, and 3 months old. Doctors kept pumping tablet after tablet into me to try to help, but everything was making it worse.

After 8 months – yes, 8 months – of what I can only describe as hell, I was finally admitted to a mother and baby unit after believing I was going to kill my nan. I still didn’t know I had OCD at this point. Three months on the unit, one tablet worked a little, but it gave me heart issues, so I had to come off it. My baby was turning 1, which meant I had to be discharged even though I was nowhere near ready.

Finally, I was diagnosed with postnatal OCD.

I had psychology sessions from the mental health team, which were useless – “thoughts are thoughts,” “leaves on a stream” – nothing that was actually helping. Then I came across OCD Recovery.

Fast forward to 9 months of weekly calls with Gemma and lots of hard work, and I view life completely differently now. My OCD is minimal. I still have a way to go, but it doesn’t affect me in any way – it’s just background noise now.

I honestly can’t thank this team enough. They saved me when I truly believed there was no hope. Gemma is honestly amazing, and I owe her the world. ❤️

I’m only writing my story to give you all some hope. Recovery is possible if you do everything your coach asks, no matter how terrifying it is – in fact, that’s even more reason to do it.

If I can do it, anyone can. No excuses. Start your recovery journey today. Make it your priority. I promise it’s worth all the hard work and scary exposures. ❤️