But it took a long time to recover from Postnatal Depression and sometimes, even now, I don't know if it has ever quite left me. It's something I'm very aware of, something I'm afraid of too, because I never want to feel like that again. And I think I'll always feel guilt and sadness because I didn't bond with Junior straight away, even though I know I loved him and that it was all because I was ill. Even when my depression was at its worst, I still tried to be a good mum to him. All I can do is put that time behind me and show him all the love now that I felt I couldn't before. I now know that I'm not alone in feeling like I did – I learned that one in every ten mothers suffers from Postnatal Depression. Since my own experience, I've spoken to a few women who've had it, and none of them liked to admit it either, because, like me, they were ashamed of their feelings. They thought they could cope with it themselves and that time would heal. In January 2007, I decided to talk about my experiences on This Morning, because I wanted other mothers to know that having Postnatal Depression is nothing to be ashamed of, that it's an illness and that you can get better.
But back to February 2006 . . .
I have to admit that I've always expected instant results, so I was disappointed when I started taking the medication but didn't suddenly feel back to my old self. When I told Pete, he reassured me that it would take a while before the medication took effect. I'm afraid to say that, after a couple of weeks, when I couldn't notice any difference, I upped the dose myself to 30 mg. I shouldn't have done it without consulting the doctor, but I still felt so low and I was desperate to feel better.
Pete was incredibly supportive during this time. He had been through his own breakdown and he understood how I was feeling, but he was also tough with me – 'I'll stick by you 100 per cent, provided you want to help yourself. If I know you want to help yourself and go to see the doctor, then I'll know you're making an effort and I'll stick by you through it. But, if you don't want to and you can't be bothered and you'd rather get your hair and nails done than work through it, then this is going to drive me away.' I knew he meant it and I wasn't going to let him or my boys down (though I still managed to get my hair and nails done, of course . . .). And I had learnt a valuable lesson: I was not going to bottle up my feelings anymore, I was going to tell people – Pete especially – exactly how I felt. I wasn't going to pretend that I was fine. Pretending that I was fine had very nearly destroyed me and I was never going to go down that path again.
But it was a tough time. And while Pete was there for me, he told me that he was very hurt that I hadn't told him about how I was feeling, that instead I'd written about it in my book. Looking back, writing my second autobiography, A Whole New World, was a kind of therapy for me, as it's a totally honest account of how I was feeling back then. I know some people might have been hurt by some of the things I said, but all I can say is that that is how I was feeling when I was suffering from Postnatal Depression and that I'm really sorry if it upset anyone I'm close to. Pete also said that I had upset a lot of people by talking about his past – specifically his many exes. But I don't give a shit what they think, I was just pointing out how Pete's past made me feel. Pete was upset, too, that I had talked about his family, because he's so protective of them. But all I said was that I found it hard to be surrounded by people so soon after Junior was born. It was nothing against them at all, because they are lovely, caring people; it was just the depression making me feel like that.
Shortly after my visit to The Priory, Pete's mum and dad came over from Cyprus for a visit. I told them that I was really sorry for the way I had acted just after Junior was born, and I explained that I was suffering from Postnatal Depression and told them how I was on medication now, trying to sort myself out. They were really upset to hear about what I'd been through, and they told Pete that he had to help me and look after me. Those words made me feel so much better; it showed they didn't hate me for how I'd behaved towards them when I was depressed. But while it was good to be able to tell them how I felt, I still hated it when his mum picked up Junior and cuddled him – it brought back too many memories of how I felt just after he was born, how I felt everyone was trying to stop me bonding with my son. But then, as I tried to explain to Pete later, it could have been any woman forming a bond with Junior, it wasn't personal to his mum, and I really hoped that I would stop feeling like this soon.
* * *
In March we went to Disney World in Florida – it was a much-needed break and although we were there to do a shoot for OK! it did actually feel like a holiday. We got to hang out lots with the kids and I also fitted in serious amounts of shopping, so a result there, as far as I'm concerned. The shoot itself was fun – I got to dress up in some amazing full-length, full-on dresses and pose with Pete round the park, as if I was a princess and he was my prince. It may sound corny, but I think we deserved a bit of fun after what we'd been through . . . For one set of nighttime shots, they actually closed down the park for us, which was really weird, because it was like being on a film set. It was one o'clock in the morning and there was nobody around except us and the crew and we were posing in Cinderella's coach with the Disney music playing and the fairy-tale castle behind us. It's blue in the pictures I've got, but they can light it any colour and, for a while, they lit it pink just for me!
Posing with Pete in this fairy-tale setting made me think again about how I really wanted to renew my wedding vows with him. That may sound strange to some people, as we haven't been together that long, but I didn't enjoy my wedding day. When I renew my vows I really want to enjoy the day and be in the right frame of mind. I want to celebrate my love for Pete, who has been so amazing and stuck by me and been like my rock through such difficult times. And I think it's important for me and Pete to renew our vows, because boy have we been tested in our relationship . . . We both feel that, because we've been able to get through everything that's happened to us so far – the Postnatal Depression, the lack of sex – and yet still be strong, we know we can get through anything. Of course, what I didn't know back in March 2006 was how much more Pete and I would have to go through.
* * *
Meanwhile, the medication was starting to have a positive effect on me and I was beginning to feel slightly better, though still not fully myself. But although I had promised Pete that I would see the doctor at The Priory, I didn't, as I hadn't really felt comfortable confiding in him. Pete picked me up on it and told me straight, 'I'm not telling you what to do, but you really should see the doctor. You can't just see him once and expect everything to be okay. I know because I've been there myself.' But before I had chance to arrange another appointment, I found out that I was pregnant again. It was a shock, though we hadn't exactly been careful. I wanted to have more children, but I just wasn't sure that this was the right time, as I knew that I still hadn't got over the Postnatal Depression. As soon as I told Pete, he said, 'Oh my God, I've only just got you back. I don't want to lose you again.'
'I think I feel okay now,' I told him, and I thought I did, but I had a long way to go . . . Although we were both worried about my depression coming back again, Pete and me were both happy about the news, but there was no question about that. We really wanted another baby.
I'd received such good care from the doctors at The Portland, a private hospital in London, when I was pregnant with Junior that I decided I wanted to go there again. When I saw Dr Gibb, my obstetrician, I told him all about my Postnatal Depression and said that I was worried about being on medication while I was pregnant. Immediately he wanted me to see a therapist he worked with who would help me come off the medication and give me help to overcome my depression. He said that I should see her throughout my pregnancy, and I was happy to do this, because I so didn't want the depression to come back. Within a matter of days, I was booked in to see her, and this is where I really feel I started to make progress in my recovery.
From the beginning, I felt more relaxed with Galin. She was older than me, immaculately dressed and she just seemed as if she could have been one of my mum's friends. I felt comfortable with her straight away and I felt I could trust her and be completely open about my feelings – which is how you need to be if therapy is going to be of any help. She was concerned that I was on such a high dosage of anti-depressants and, when I admitted that I had upped the levels myself, she told me that I really shouldn't have done it, but that she would help me come off the tablets gradually. I told her everything about how my depression had made me feel, how I felt about Junior, about my relationship with Pete, about how I didn't feel like having sex. And she explained that the Postnatal Depression and the high dosage of medication were combining to suppress my sex drive. She also explained how Postnatal Depression is an illness that can be cured, with medication and with therapy. But, just as several other doctors had pointed out, she also agreed that she could see the depression had been building up in me for a while now, because of all the stressful things that had happened to me in the past and how having too many people around me immediately after Junior was born and going back to work too soon had only made it worse.
She also saw Pete, to explain to him why I'd been feeling like I did. She told him that some women can have Postnatal Depression for up to six years and explained to him about the impact of Postnatal Depression and anti-depressants on my sex drive. But then she said to both of us, 'What would you rather do? Take the tablets and get better? Or don't take them and put up with the depression?' The answer was obvious. I didn't ask to have Postnatal Depression. Unfortunately, when you get married you have to put up with some difficult times – for better for worse. But I also knew in my heart that this was a phase and I had confidence that I would get better.
In the months that followed, Galin helped me wean myself off the tablets — first reducing the dose from 30 to 20 mg, then down to 10 mg. There were a couple of days when I forgot to take them at all and I ended up feeling so weird – I had a heady feeling as if everything around me was in slow motion. Gradually, I felt more like myself again. There wasn't a day when I just woke up and suddenly thought I'm better now, but day by day, I began to feel closer to Junior, more able to express my love for him. I started to enjoy my work again and I was happier around people. Two years on, I think I'm almost there, I'm not 100 per cent better, but I'm 99.9 per cent there.
Just as I was feeling slightly better, someone very close to me became seriously ill. It was Essie, my eighty-two-year-old nan, my mum's mum. She had emphysema through years of smoking and had problems breathing as a result. We'd all nagged her for ages about giving up and she'd always say she was cutting down or she'd given up, but she never did. She was like a naughty child and mum was forever going round to her bungalow and discovering the stash of cigarettes she'd hidden away. I was so upset about nan. We're such a close family and my nan has always had a special place in my heart. Mum had to work full time when my brother and me were little and nan was the one who picked us up from school and looked after us till mum finished work. I remember she would always give us a KitKat and Sons and Daughters would be on the TV.
My mum reckons that I am like nan in so many ways. We're both complete exhibitionists and Essie was a very impulsive, passionate woman who loved socialising and having a laugh. Apparently, whenever there was any kind of party, in her younger days, she'd be the first to try to take men's trousers down! Way to go, Nan! When she was seventeen, she fell head-over-heels in love with this man called Charlie and she threatened to kill herself if her family didn't allow her to marry him. Well, they gave in, but two years later, when she'd just given birth to a daughter, Charlie said that he'd met someone else and they ended up getting divorced. It must have been tough for her having a baby and being on her own. She was only nineteen and attitudes towards single parents were very different then. Luckily, she found love again with my granddad, Harvey. I love the story of how they met – it's almost as surreal as how I met Pete.
Nan used to do promotion work, and one time she was working for the World Trade Fair in London and she had to pose as a mermaid for one of the exhibits. She had beautiful waist-length auburn hair (that's probably where Princess gets her colouring from) and she had to lie there topless, with just her long hair to preserve her dignity. In front of her was a tank full of fish, and people would pay, look through the tank, and be treated to the spectacle of my nan, the mermaid, reclining and brushing her hair. My granddad was one of the visitors and he was very taken with her. They ended up dating and marrying. Nan was not a mermaid for long, though, she got so bored that one day she lit up a cigarette and ended up getting the sack!
She was always so proud of me for my work. She absolutely loved what I did and nothing shocked her. She'd look at all my glamour shots in the lads mags and tabloids and watch me on TV. The more outrageous I was, the better, as far as she was concerned and I'd always been able to talk to her about everything. She loved hearing about what I'd been up to.
When she went into hospital, I visited her as much as I could. It was heartbreaking seeing her lying there in such an impersonal ward. She just wanted to go home to her bungalow in Hove, and she kept saying, 'Please, just get me home, all I want to do is walk along the seafront with Micky.' Micky was her white poodle and she adored him. Every day she'd take him for a walk by the sea. She knew all the homeless people who hung out down there and she'd sit with them on one of the benches and have a fag. Everybody in her area knew her and liked her. And now here she was struggling to breathe. It was really, really sad.
It also put other things in perspective. I felt my relationship with Pete was stronger than ever. He had been so good to me when I was suffering from depression, standing by me 100 per cent and helping me get better. When I told him I'd taken drugs that night in February, I was convinced that he was going to divorce me, but it just goes to show that, if you are honest with your partner and you get help, your relationship can get through even the really tough times.