A bit brave

Today is my brother's funeral and I can't be there. It is tearing me apart but there is nothing I can do. I know that there are many people in this position at the moment because of covid 19 and lockdown. For me there is no consolation, there can be no celebration of his life, only the enforced separation. Depression brings its own demands but grief is worse and fuels my private thoughts. I tell myself that time will help but feel no conviction. Not today, maybe tomorrow. Jack the last of my family. Mum, Dad, Harry, and now Jack all gone and with them the unique memories only we shared of my childhood and our time together. But I have other memories, validated by my wife and children and connections that will support me through this time and beyond. My daughter sent me some words by Goethe that shine a light into the darkness. 'The world is so empty if one thinks only of mountains, rivers, and cities; but to know someone who thinks and feels with us, and who, though distan

There can be no doubt that loneliness can lead to depression. Human beings are social creatures and Johann Hari talks of ‘a disconnect’ from other people as a cause of depression and anxiety. In our modern world, we are too busy with our own lives to worry about others. The corona pandemic, although dreadful in terms of our health has, no doubt, brought people together. We are all looking after our neighbours. We are coming to our doors on a Thursday evening to clap the care workers, nurses, and doctors who are saving lives. When we take our walk we are making a point of speaking to other walkers. (All be it at a distance.) These small things help the quality of our lives and alert us to the need for social activities. When this is all over, there will still be people who are housebound. There will be lonely men and women struggling to keep themselves on an even keel. Will we remember them and offer help? Will we re-establish the youth clubs and social clubs for the old, which were c

In his excellent book, ‘Lost Connections’, Johann Hari argues that disconnection from seven aspects of life can cause depression and anxiety. The first three, in my opinion, are closely linked. 1.        Meaningful Work.   2. Status and respect.     3. A hopeful and secure future. How many people get up in a morning dreading going to work? Many modern jobs are routine, boring, poorly paid and insecure. Even those professions that would appear to be worthwhile and meaningful can be compromised by excessive hours and conveyor style working conditions. It is no wonder that doctors, nurses and teachers leave their jobs for work abroad, the private sector or a change of job. The increase in zero-hours contracts is probably the best example of the job insecurity that can undermine anyone’s mental health. Since the 1980’s workers’ rights have been systematically eroded. The rich have got richer and the poor poorer. In modern industrial societies, a ‘lost connection’ from meaningful work

In his excellent book, ‘Lost Connections’, Johann Hari argues that disconnection from eight aspects of life, (Meaningful Work, People, Meaningful values, Childhood trauma, Status and Respect, the Natural World and a Hopeful and Secure Future) can cause depression and anxiety. In his book he has a chapter simply entitled, ‘The Cow’ and I was intrigued to learn what that was about. The chapter was about a rice farmer in Cambodia whose leg was blown off by a land mine. He was given an artificial limb and returned to work in the rice fields but he was in a lot of pain and highly anxious and consequently sank into a deep depression. His doctors talked to him about his problems and then came up with a creative solution to lift his mood. They bought him a cow and suggested he became a dairy farmer. It worked wonders and his depression lifted. In Cambodia, there are no anti-depressants. The cow was his anti-depressant. We live in a world where many people are poor and undervalued and we

Every person will deal with their mental illness differently but I recognise a pattern to the way I feel and react. Negative feelings build up but I continue to pretend that all is well and try to use my coping strategies to lift the way I feel. Sometimes I can think my way through these critical times but usually, I get to bursting point and have to cry. I find an excuse to be on my own and just let go of my emotions. Crying is quite cathartic for me, but I understand that seeing me like that can be disturbing for those around me. I could feel ashamed because all my life I have been told that men don’t cry but I don’t because I have learned that these ‘old school’ attitudes are destructive of my self-esteem. I now understand that holding emotions in and pretending all is well, leads to many men ending their lives. I may have a mental illness but I’m not stupid. If I need to talk, then I will talk and if I need to cry, I will cry. Crying is like a cleansing of my mind and body.

When I was first ill, I spent a great deal of time looking for insights that might make me better. Reading self-help books gave me hope that I could make myself well and I took whatever advice that was available. During this time, I began to develop an understanding of my illness and in addition to my many coping strategies, I started to look inwards at those things that made me what I was. I realised that fighting my illness was counter-productive. Playing sports took me away from the feelings and although this was a useful coping mechanism it only gave me a temporary rest bite. I realised that I had to somehow come to terms with those inner feelings that dominated my life. It was at this point I wrote the poem, ‘The Other Me.’ The Other Me Who is this haunted soul who fills my heart and mind with anguish? Who comes unannounced and uninvited to smother me with painful emotions. Who creates a kaleidoscope of unwanted feelings cascading through my mind,   as if from nowher

This is a difficult time for everyone. Being in isolation. Not seeing loved ones. Not going to work. No social activities. Worrying about those we love. Empty shelves in supermarkets. Keeping safe. Waiting for things to get worse. These are all factors that can affect mental health. For me, there is also the fact that I have lost my key coping strategies. No Gym. No choir. No Andy's Man Club. So how am I coping? Quite well, given what is happening. This is what is keeping me going. 1.        Each day is the same but that has been helpful to me. I enjoy the routine. 2.        I am doing steady exercise and trying not to overdo things. This is good because it doesn’t feel like I am avoiding vigorous exercise because I am afraid. 3.        I am undertaking steady work in the garden and am helped by the length of time I have available. No need to rush. No perfectionism. 4.        My thoughts about pain and injury are now more logical. I can accept that I may have to live

I recently read an article in the National Trust magazine written by a Trust member, Mal Emerson. He wrote: ‘My life changed 23 years ago when my leg was caught in the drum at work as I was repairing a conveyor belt. After the accident, it took me nearly 5 years to be able to walk just a couple of hundred metres. My mentality was to try to walk to one more lamp-post every day. Now I can’t believe how far I can walk. The accident broke my body, but it also broke my mind. Severe post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) took over my life and I completely lost myself. The mental scars just wouldn’t go away. These days, when the trauma kicks in, I go walking to lose the memories. One day, I decided to share my story on Facebook about how walking has helped my health both physically and mentally. I wrote, ‘if anyone wants to join me, I will meet you at the end of the pier.’ When I arrived, there were 16 men waiting and I thought, ‘there must be something in this!’ Now I have founded Mal