It’s easy to condemn those involved in high-profile psychosis tragedies, but it’s a view that lacks nuance, says writer Ayana Lang.It’s easy to condemn those involved in high-profile psychosis tragedies, but it’s a view that lacks nuance, says writer Ayana Lang.
The tweet froze me in place. Three children were dead, allegedly killed by their mother in the minutes it took the father to run two quick errands. I watched my toddler happily play in the backyard as I refreshed my feed for more information until mounting anxiety made me put my phone down. Lindsay Clancy’s smiling family photos were all I could think about. One of her sons was a little older than my daughter; they could’ve been in the same class.
Three years later, Clancy is currently on trial for first-degree murder. Her lawyers are arguing that she repeatedly sought mental health help in the months leading up to the murders but received inadequate care and was prescribed too many medications. The prosecution says the killings were premeditated. Clancy’s ex-husband claims the medical system failed her in a myriad of ways. He filed a wrongful-death lawsuit against her providers earlier this year.
Postpartum psychosis occurs in one to two women per one thousand births—and I was one of them. It affects thousands of American women every year, some of whom have no prior psychiatric diagnosis. It’s easy to condemn those involved in high-profile psychosis tragedies—Andrea Yates, the Texas mother who drowned her five children in 2001, comes to mind—but it’s a view that lacks nuance. Someone who has postpartum psychosis has lost touch with reality; in rare cases, women harm their children in a deluded effort to protect them. Clancy later said that she’d heard a voice telling her to kill the children, then herself. She jumped out of a second-story window the day of the deaths, which left her paralyzed from the waist down.
Whether Clancy was experiencing psychosis when she killed her children is being debated in court, but the evidence shows that she repeatedly sought mental-health treatment in the months beforehand. After I arrived at the hospital, they admitted me under an involuntary hold, which means I couldn’t choose to leave. When it became clear something was seriously wrong, everyone involved in my care jumped into action. A psychiatrist examined me every day. Staff members diligently documented my condition, monitoring my mood, sleep, and diet around the clock. When it was time to go home, I hugged the doctor who delivered the news.
The episode is so far removed from my current life that I sometimes forget it happened. But reminders sneak up on me, and I’m thrown back to the small hospital room I called home as a roving prophet. I was separated from my newborn for a good portion of her first month, which nearly destroyed me upon my recovery. It felt like I’d flunked the most important exam of my life on the first question. As I wrestled with feeling like a failed mother, I struggled to think about what could’ve happened if my husband hadn’t rushed me to the hospital. On the ward, I screamed at other patients and told the nurses I’d kill them, all because I thought God was asking me to. My gruesome hallucinations felt so real that they’re still disturbing to me years later.
But I have a happy ending. My treatment brought me back to myself, and the medication stopped my erratic behavior. The worst part of my episode, other than being separated from my baby, was how I embarrassed myself in the days leading up to my diagnosis. But things could’ve ended tragically. Postpartum psychosis is associated with an elevated risk of infanticide; some reviews have estimated that as many as 4% of affected mothers may kill their infant.
Sometimes, my mind wanders to a question that feels inconceivable. What would’ve happened if I’d been left unsupervised with my baby? I reflect on the intensity of my delusions and recoil at how I would’ve responded if my thoughts spiraled. I was convinced my daughter was divine and fiercely believed people wanted to harm her. It doesn’t take much imagination to picture a scenario where I might’ve believed she was no longer safe on earth. The experience has made it impossible for me to dismiss women who commit unthinkable crimes as purely evil. The same voices have whispered to me. I was just fortunate enough to escape them.
