I’d never want to hurt you, son, but I was terrified by the thoughts I had

You are supposed to be our future, a new chapter in the story of our lives, but I can’t help resenting you. Only a few weeks old, you’re demanding and unreasoning and I’m struggling to see the good that you bring.

To start with, we got on with it, settling into a routine as we stumbled through nappies and nights when you wouldn’t settle, but it started to wear me down. You hear about mothers with postnatal depression, but no one talks about the challenges a father has to face: working to put food on the table and a roof over our heads is tough when you’ve had only a couple of hours sleep, and we’re not supposed to need a break. Men are supposed to never cry, and provide for those we care about. I hope that I can teach you a better way, my son; that you’re allowed to be vulnerable, and not keep everything locked up until it bursts.

What I’m really thinking: the night receptionist Read more

It came to a head one night, when your mother found me in tears beside your cot. I’d never want to hurt you, but I was terrified by the thoughts I had. I’m doing the best I can for you, and I’ve gone and got the help I desperately need. Your mother has been so strong, using your grandmother, uncles and friends to help keep our family together while I work through these feelings. The worst part for me is feeling that I’m failing your mother, that I’m putting all of your needs on her, at a time when she needs help.

There’s hope for the future, but it’s a slow process. One day I hope you get to read this, and look at me with questioning eyes, because you can’t see the man I am right now in the man I’ll be in the future.

• Tell us what you’re really thinking at mind@theguardian.com

• In the UK, the Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123. In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255. In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is on 13 11 14. Hotlines in other countries can be found here