Mental Health Awareness Week - My story
Mental health awareness week has started and for the first time I feel in a place to engage with it. I'm not sure on the best way to do that so have just decided to write a little about my experiences and thoughts on my mental health. I'm not expecting to change the world but I realised if I can help just one person, and even if that person was me, it was worth trying.
With that being said if you don't feel like you want to read about some of my struggles feel free to give it a miss, there's no need to feel obliged to read. I'm just writing with no clear plan so I'm not sure quite what format this will take but certainly don't expect it to be everyone's cup of tea.
The other warning I should make is this could potentially be quite dark in places. If you're in a bad place yourself or have any worries about reading something like that I would suggest not reading this today and maybe bookmarking it for the future if you have an interest but are worried about how it may affect you. If you are in a bad place reach out to me privately if you think it may help and if you're in crisis please reach out to one of the many excellent services out there that I'm sure you're already aware of.
My past
I can't remember too much of my earlier childhood but I'm pretty sure it was happy. I was always considered quiet and also had enough trouble speaking I had to see a speech therapist but the vast majority of moments I can remember are happy so I'm calling it happy.
Things got quite a bit more complicated when I was a teenager. My older brother, Pete, was a passenger in a car accident at age 19. He was in a coma for the next 3 months and in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. I won't go into too much detail, it's a hard subject for family members who are probably reading this and probably isn't all too relevant to my story. Simply put though, everything changed from then on. It wasn't just me things changed for, my entire family, both close and extended went through a lot as well as his friends and other people I probably was never aware of. But that is a story for them to tell, or keep to themselves, whatever helps them.
I'm also acutely aware I definitely wasn't the worst affected by this. I'm also aware comparison is a pretty negative thing from which mental illness can often grow. So I'm not here to compare suffering or request sympathy, I'm just telling my story.
What changed
Everything. My friends struggled to speak to me so much but I never blamed them for that. We were 13 and aware enough this was a huge deal but with no idea how to actually talk about it or if I even wanted to. At least that's what I imagined, there's a fairly good chance my friends didn't really change but I withdrew in to myself even more than the quiet child I had started as and just imagined it was others struggling to speak when it was really me struggling to find my voice. That last sentence is something that has just occurred to me while writing this, it's something I'll take a look at and unpack a bit in the future.
At home things changed too. I feel like everything was geared towards Pete and his recovery but thinking about it now I think that was a slightly warped memory. Sure visiting him and helping in his recovery did become the priority but not at a cost the rest of us were ignored. In fact I know my parents went above and beyond to make sure we missed out on as little as possible, still taking us to play multiple games of football each weekend as well as training while they continued to work and spend countless hours at the hospital. It's probably only now as an adult and parent I can really appreciate just how much effort they went through for us all which I'm not sure I've voiced (or completely realised) before. So if you've made it to here thank you Mum and Dad, I love you.
One thing I am certain about is I withdrew at home. I decided none of my problems could ever compare to what Pete and my parents were going through so I tried to lessen the burden on everyone by keeping any problems to myself. This was definitely a mistake but I definitely don't feel bad for my 13 year old self for making it, it seemed pretty logical. It is a lesson it took me decades to learn though and I went far too long keeping my problems to myself. I still struggle with it but am now getting better with it. The saying "It's good to talk" is a saying for a reason. I also understand sometimes it can be too hard to speak about some problems. If things are getting too much maybe try speaking about some smaller things and that may help take a bit of pressure off yourself. And if you can't talk try writing, even just to yourself. To be honest I'm finding this far more therapeutic then I expected.
I'm not certain Pete's accident was what changed/damaged me but it's the most likely cause from what I can remember. I certainly felt different before and after but I also can't remember basically the entire previous year which is a bit strange so there may have been something else that happened before I just can't remember. It doesn't actually matter to me anymore what the cause may have been. The why is now irrelevant and I just need to deal with the aftermath.
The worst change
The worst change for me wasn't even a change, it was a diagnosis. My first wife was diagnosed with post-natal depression and through that process I basically learnt I had some kind of depression. Apparently dark thoughts weren't normal and something that needed treatment. This lead to a deep downward spiral that progressed over several years and ended up with me only feeling comfortable shut in a room with all doors closed and curtains drawn. However I wasn't safe from the visual and auditory hallucinations or the self harm. I can't really describe how bad a place I was in but I'm pretty sure one thing saved my life. My daughter. I had a reason to fight or possibly the guilt of not fighting for her was more painful than the depression. She gave me the fight and finding the right medication helped stabilise me. It was a long journey from there but the medication gave me the ability to help myself.
I said the original diagnosis was the worst thing to happen and that's because I just felt it was wrong and far too simplistic. Once I was told I was ill and not normal, I lent in to that and I believe I made myself far worse. The mind is a very powerful thing. Now I don't think that bad/dark/gruesome imagery is something that needed to be fixed as it wasn't causing me an issue. I'm doing pretty good now with my mental health and I have those 'bad' thoughts every day. The difference is they are just thoughts, they come in, pass through and are forgotten. They aren't an issue and should never have been made in to one. Now I understand there's a big difference between these harmless (although not nice) thoughts and damaging ones. The big difference is impulse. If I have a bad thought and it just passes it's not a big deal. If I have a bad thought and want to hurt myself or others that is a big deal. If I'm in a good enough place it's something I can deal with and just an alarm bell. If I'm not I know I need to get help from somebody else.
It's hard to explain to somebody that hasn't had similar thoughts but if somebody tells you they've been having thoughts that sound scary to you don't be afraid if they say they are normal to them. Trust them to understand what is their normal. The fact they are reaching out and mentioning them probably means something has changed though and they want/need some help. It's that change that is important and try not to be too scared about their normal 'bad' thoughts. I would still direct anybody to seek medical help though if they are reaching out. If you've been reached out to in a similar way and are scared about it, feel free to get in touch with me any time.
Starting to get better
As I mentioned above, the base for me to get better was built on medication which I ended up taking for a decade. I would have taken it longer if I needed and wouldn't hesitate to go back on it again if I ever need to. My first medication was awful and the side effects were worse than my depression so I didn't take it for too long and didn't try another for a few years until I was even worse. I think I found the 'right' medication for me on my 4th or 5th try but once I found it it made a huge difference. It didn't make me all better but took the deepest lows away and gave me what felt like a bit more control over my own thoughts again.
The biggest change from me getting along with just being ok to actually being good feels horrible to say. Pete died. At age 33 he dropped dead with no cause of death from the autopsy. It was another awful experience and I still can't imagine what others had to deal with about it. It hurt me, and still does, but it was the biggest kick up my arse I've ever received. I felt like I was literally choosing to do very little with my life, when Pete literally couldn't choose anything anymore. Quite a simple thought but it just hit me so hard in that situation and pushed me further than I had imagined possible. I had settled in to surviving and getting by but Pete dying made me want to live gain.
Medication was the key to getting me out of my depths of despair, therapy was the key to getting me to a good place. Side note - I just realised I refer to how I feel as good or bad places, I think that's because it's somewhere I am passing through, but also have the choice to stop in if I choose. Like medications it can take a few attempts to find the right therapist so if you are having troubles try not to give up if it doesn't work at first. My first therapist was awful. My next couple were ok, helped a little but nothing life changing. My last therapist did change my life.
It was after Pete died and so I had a change in mindset already which probably played a part too but a big factor was we were both runners (although I was very infrequent in my 'training' at the time). When we talked about problems and ways of thinking he would use examples related to running and things just started to make a lot more sense. I wouldn't turn up to a marathon without doing any training so why expect to be have all my shit together tomorrow? I should start with trying to brush my teeth every day (something I struggled with, years ago it was something to do with how I was so worthless I didn't deserve clean teeth and eventually there was some strange comfort to it, maybe it was a sense of control about choosing not to). It seems silly now and obviously that's a pretty simple example but talking about things in a framework I understood just made things click.
Since then I've tried to continue improving, reading more and watching videos. Learning more about Stoicism helped a lot. I didn't expect to find much help from ancient Greek philosophy but as I found out the very popular Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) treatment that helped me so much is derived at least partially from Stoicism. Learning about brain function and the physical causes of some of my thoughts helped as well and was pretty interesting. I've realised recently I've forgotten a lot of what I had learnt so I'm going to be reading back through some of the books that have helped me before.
Another big help has been running. The physical side is great, it helps keep me healthier which helps my mental health too. Training towards and achieving goals I didn't think was possible has helped build my self esteem and taught me some life lessons about working towards bigger targets I want to achieve. Being out in nature is just special to me and probably where I am most at peace (something I've recently realised is something I crave and need). And being part of a great community, making new friends has been amazing. I'm not the best at keeping in touch and talking but I really appreciate them. I found my tribe. I found my (other) family.
A quick round up
This is a somewhat simplistic version of my story and leaves a lot of things out but has a good chunk of the core to my story. Some things I've left out because I'm not ready to write about them in public, others are for others to tell their side and a lot is to just save a bit of time. I think this is long enough already!
I'm doing ok now and a hell of a lot better than before but I'm definitely on something of a plateau and ready to start pushing on to greater heights. Some of that will be through self improvement but I have a nagging feeling about wanting to help others. I haven't worked out exactly how I can do that but it's definitely something that is becoming more important to me. I think me writing this is my first step in trying to reach out and help. It's helped me and that's a good enough start for now.