'I WILL NEVER TAKE FREEDOM FOR GRANTED'

Helen Murray Taylor shares how a mental health breakdown led to her being sectioned

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When my husband and I learnt I was finally pregnant, we were overjoyed. I was 35 and had thought time was running out. For two years we had endured investigations, surgical interventions, fertility treatments - the hope followed by disappointment had left us reeling. Now there were the secret delights of morning sickness, subtle changes in my body - a bra that didn't fit, a waistband that dug in - and the excitement and anticipation of an alternative future.

At 12 weeks, I miscarried. I was traumatised by the loss of the baby and my dream of motherhood. A diagnosis of endometriosis meant there was a risk that I would never have another chance. A month later, we moved from London to Scotland, so that as a scientist I could take up a research fellowship. Amid the pressure of setting up a new lab and the anxiety to prove my worth, my grief mutated. I'd had depression a few years earlier but with psychotherapy, antidepressants and a change of career - I decided I could no longer cope with the pressures of being a doctor - I had been able to rebuild my life.

This time it was different. I was utterly lost. I didn’t know who I was any more. I had failed as a doctor, as a mother and was in danger of failing as a scientist. My GP started me on antidepressants but the internal monologue that insisted how useless I was wouldn't let up. It took every ounce of effort I possessed to drag myself out of the house each morning. At work I did my best to present myself as capable and ambitious, but when no one was watching I hid in the toilets and wept.

DESPERATION POINT

I limped through a year in this state until, at the approach of the anniversary of my miscarriage, the strain of putting up a front became intolerable. I was barely eating or sleeping and was plagued by an extreme anxiety tremor. My husband made me promise to seek help.