The Surprising Truth: We’re More Connected Yet Alone
The Lindsay Clancy case reveals something many hesitate to admit.
Texting someone ‘how are you?’ is not the same as being there.
Moreover, postpartum depression and postpartum psychosis are medical emergencies.
The people suffering from them need more than a check-in message.
They need a village.
This post is a call to be that village.
I watched part of the Lindsay Clancy trial this week. And when her sister took the stand, something she said stopped me cold.
She knew Lindsay was struggling with depression. She knew Lindsay had mentioned suicidal thoughts — for over a month. And when asked if they had ever spoken on the phone about it, she couldn’t remember. But she did text frequently.
She texted frequently.
I want to be clear — this is not about shaming that family. Grief is complicated, and none of us know the full story of those relationships. But that moment hit me like a wall. This holds up a mirror to something we are all doing. Additionally, we have replaced human contact with digital check-ins and convinced ourselves it’s the same thing. It is not.
This topic hits close to home for me. Suicide is something my family knows something about. When it happened, I was one of the family members who had no idea — no idea someone was struggling that deeply, no idea what to even look for. And I knew nothing about postpartum depression. Nothing about postpartum psychosis. I wasn’t reaching out. I wasn’t showing up. I was just… living my life, assuming everything was fine because no one had told me otherwise.
We have to do better. And I think most of us genuinely want to. We just don’t know where to start. So let’s talk about it.
What is postpartum psychosis, and why don’t more people know about it?
Postpartum depression gets talked about — not enough, but it gets talked about. Postpartum psychosis is a different conversation entirely, and most people have never even heard the term until a tragedy forces it into the headlines.
Postpartum psychosis is a rare but severe mental health condition. It can develop rapidly after childbirth, typically within the first two weeks. According to Postpartum Support International, it affects about 1 to 2 in 1,000 mothers. Symptoms include hallucinations and delusions. Additionally, they can involve extreme mood swings, paranoia, and confusion. It is a psychiatric emergency.
Lindsay Clancy reportedly told both her husband and her mother that she was having thoughts of harming her children. She was begging for help. She knew something was wrong. And still — somehow — the system around her didn’t catch it in time.
That is not just a personal tragedy. That is a systemic failure. And a cultural one.
How did texting become a substitute for actually showing up?
There is something deeply strange about the world we live in right now. Something happens on the other side of the globe, and we know about it within minutes. We can reach anyone, anywhere, anytime. And yet — I genuinely believe we are the loneliest we have ever been.
I miss talking on the phone. I mean really talking — not a 90-second voice memo, not a thread of memes. I’m talking about the long, wandering, sitting-on-the-kitchen-floor-with-the-cord-wrapped-around-your-finger kind of conversation. The kind where you actually hear someone’s voice catch when something is wrong.
If you know me, you know I would almost always rather call than text. Partly because I will read your message, respond in my head, and then completely forget to actually type the reply. But mostly — mostly — because I want to hear your voice. I want a real conversation. Not just a “hey, love you, thinking of you” followed by a heart emoji and a double tap.
Am I alone in this?
Because it genuinely baffles me that we can watch someone suffering — visibly, audibly, desperately — and think a text message is enough. That we can know someone is struggling with their mental health and not pick up the phone. Not drive over. Not sit with them.
What does “having a village” actually look like in practice?
We throw this phrase around a lot. “It takes a village.” And then we go back to our separate lives and our group chats and our tagged Instagram posts and wonder why everyone seems so isolated.
A village is not a text. A village is a person showing up at your door and saying, “I’m not leaving you alone today.” It’s someone who notices that you haven’t posted in a while and actually calls instead of sending a “thinking of you” GIF. It’s the friend who asks once, gets a “I’m fine,” and asks again anyway — because she knows better.
Here’s what showing up can actually look like:
- Call instead of text — especially when you know someone is struggling. A voice carries things a message can’t.
- Make it specific. Don’t say “let me know if you need anything.” Say “I’m coming over Thursday. I’ll bring food. Can you text me your order?” Specificity removes the burden from the person who is already drowning.
- Trust your gut. If something feels off — if a friend seems quieter than usual, if a new mom hasn’t reached out in a while — reach out. Don’t wait for confirmation.
- Take the scary things seriously. If someone tells you they’re having dark thoughts, that is not the moment to say “I’m sure it’ll pass.” That is the moment to stay, to help them get help, to not leave them alone.
- Learn the warning signs. Postpartum depression and postpartum psychosis have recognizable symptoms. Knowing them could save someone’s life.
None of this is complicated. It is just inconvenient. And somewhere along the way, we started prioritizing convenience over connection.
Why mothers are especially likely to suffer in silence
There is something particular about new motherhood that makes it almost impossible to ask for help — even when you are desperate for it.
Mothers are expected to be grateful. Joyful. Fulfilled. The cultural script says that having a baby is the happiest time of your life, and when your internal reality doesn’t match that script, the shame is enormous. So you smile for the photos. You say you’re tired but good. You text back “just busy!” and hope no one looks too closely.
Lindsay Clancy was not quiet about her struggle. She told people. She asked for help. She said out loud that she was afraid of what she might do. And still the response was not enough — not fast enough, not big enough, not urgent enough.
What would have happened if someone had said, “Okay. We are not leaving you alone. With the kids or without them. We are finding you better treatment, starting today. We are staying.”
We will never know. And those children will never come home. And that grief — the weight of losing your babies — is something no verdict can touch.
What we can all do differently, starting now
I am not writing this to make anyone feel guilty. Guilt is not useful here. But I do think we are all capable of more than we’re currently giving each other — and I think, deep down, most of us know it.
So here is what I want to ask of you:
Think of one person in your life who might be struggling right now. Not someone who has told you explicitly — just someone you’ve been meaning to check on. Call them. Not a text. A call. Today.
If you know a new mom — especially one who seems to be struggling — get educated. Postpartum Support International (postpartum.net) has resources for families, not just mothers. You don’t have to be a doctor to recognize that something is wrong. You just have to be paying attention.
Talk about postpartum depression and postpartum psychosis openly. The more we normalize these conversations, the more likely someone who is suffering will feel safe enough to say so. And the more likely the people around them will know how to respond.
Stop waiting for the what-if. Don’t wait until it’s a crisis to start showing up. Show up now, in the ordinary days, so that when the hard ones come, you are already there.
We all need someone to actually hear us
Lindsay Clancy asked for help. She said the words out loud. She named her fears. And somewhere in the gap between what she said and what the people around her were able to do, three children lost their lives and a family was shattered forever.
We will never fully know what went wrong, or what could have changed the outcome. But I know this — being heard is not the same as being texted back. Being loved is not the same as being checked on. And a village is not built from a group chat.
We are not too busy to save each other. We are just out of practice. Let’s start practicing again.
If you or someone you know is struggling with postpartum depression or postpartum psychosis, please reach out to Postpartum Support International at postpartum.net or call their helpline at 1-800-944-4773. If someone is in immediate danger, call 911.
Frequently asked questions
What is the difference between postpartum depression and postpartum psychosis?
Postpartum depression is a mood disorder characterized by persistent sadness, anxiety, exhaustion, and difficulty bonding with a newborn. Postpartum psychosis is a far more severe and rare condition — affecting roughly 1 to 2 in 1,000 mothers — that can include hallucinations, delusions, paranoia, and rapid mood swings. Postpartum psychosis is a psychiatric emergency that requires immediate medical intervention.
What were the warning signs in the Lindsay Clancy case?
Based on testimony from the trial, Lindsay Clancy had been experiencing depression and had expressed suicidal thoughts for over a month before the incident. She also told her husband and her mother that she was having thoughts of harming her children. These are serious warning signs that require immediate professional intervention, not passive monitoring.
How can I support a friend or family member who may have postpartum depression?
The most important things you can do are: show up physically rather than relying on texts, take their symptoms seriously, help them access professional support, and never leave someone in crisis alone. Postpartum Support International (postpartum.net) offers resources specifically for partners and family members of those affected.
Why do so many mothers struggle in silence?
Cultural pressure to appear grateful and joyful after having a baby creates enormous shame around postpartum struggles. Many mothers fear being judged, misunderstood, or seen as incapable. Reducing that stigma starts with open, honest conversations — in families, in communities, and in the media.
What should I do if someone tells me they are having thoughts of harming themselves or their children?
Do not minimize it, and do not leave them alone. Help them contact a mental health professional or crisis line immediately. In the US, you can call or text 988 to reach the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. If there is immediate danger, call 911.
