My Mental Health Story - Part 1

I have been quite open when I tell you that I have had mental health issues, and I am not embarrassed to admit it, and that itself is relevant in these posts. If you think you have problems, don’t hide it through fear of embarrassment, but seek help to help yourself.

I’m not embarrassed because I want to share my experiences to try to help people. I have already mentioned that could either be someone with mental health issues, or someone living with, or knowing someone with problems. Either person may want to find out more to try better understand how it can affect them or other people, but bear in mind to start with that there are various types of mental health issues, and different people will react differently; it is or can be a minefield

When I had my old site, I wrote many articles on COVID-19, and I remember as it was coming to an end, I asked the question, ‘is mental health problems the new pandemic.’

I asked that as the number of cases we hear about, the number of people who need help, and the number of online sites and organisations have increased drastically over the last few years, or have they? Or should I be saying it has become much more of an acceptable, talked-about, and public concern, affecting many, many people? So, here is my story.

Back in 2012, when I was 49, I came across diagnosed anxiety for the first time in my life. I worked for a family business as their business manager, run by the son day-to-day, with the father working remotely and very much in the background. It was a busy, demanding, and occasionally stressful role. But being an industrial manager for many years, many positions were similar, but we just got on with things. Maybe we punched an occasional box, but definitely not a wall; I cherished my poor little fingers and hands too much!

One Monday morning the father came to the office, which was strange as he lived many, many miles away. Whilst he was still involved with the business, he never did this. He took me outside away from prying ears, and he told me his son needed time off work, and it would be weeks, not days. He had unfortunately had a breakdown over the weekend and had been advised he probably had, or was even diagnosed with, anxiety; I can’t quite remember. (A topic on its own for me, which will become apparent as we move on.)

This was that first time; did people really get diagnosed with anxiety? I didn’t know, as it was new to me. Sure, we use the word in everyday chat, something again I will come onto in more detail in later posts, but knowing someone who I worked with having this problem was a shock. His problem was work-related, and if I remember correctly, it was trying to switch off, and also, I think, not being able to check on certain aspects of work over the weekend because other parties, suppliers, or maybe customers weren’t working, so he couldn’t get in touch with them!.

The business gave all the family a good living, and sometimes that does not make your world okay. Having money, nice houses and cars, and having nice holidays with first-class flights and tickets for your premier league football team doesn’t stop you from having mental health issues. I can honestly say, ‘trust me I know,’ because that was my boss.

So that is how he came to have anxiety; in time, with help and a change of lifestyle, he got better. And to help that included a residential course to better understand his situation, stopping drinking as much coffee, and giving up a certain energy drink, which he stored in his garage in packs of 24! But the last time I saw him, when, funnily enough, I returned to the company as a health & safety advisor for them, he was fine and doing well, and it was good to see.

So how does his story compare to mine? Well, they are completely different, and in one respect you couldn’t get more different. To start with, let’s go back to December 2012, where two things happened. The first was me sitting on my sofa reading an old-fashioned hard copy of a daily paper. The article I read was about people who, in the following year, 2013, wouldn’t change their car (and sort of relevant in a later post,) wouldn’t move house, wouldn't go on holiday, and wouldn’t do various other things because it was 2013!

I have always been a little skeptical about 13. When we bought a house on a new build estate, the house number would have been around no 64, but the plot number for the build plan was 13, so that was a no-go; we found another that turned out to be a better option. Later when we were looking at a cottage, which was no 13 in a row of about 20, and I didn’t even look at the photos online, it was a no-go straight away, much to my wife’s frustration. Bless her for putting up with me!

I won’t drive the car with the volume set at 13; in fact, I won’t watch or listen to any device in the house if it has a volume control that can be set at 13. It’s either 12 or 14, and it always has been and always will be. One remembrance week I had a pocketful of coins, and after putting a few coins into a collection jar, it left me with just the pound coins. I counted them and found I had £13 in my pocket, so the remembrance charity got another £1 to leave me with the 12. Am I superstitious? You would have to say yes, and we will talk about OCD in time.

The second thing I did that December was that I went what I would call proper off-road cycling for the first time in my life, and with this I mean forests, hills, mud tracks, and all that thrown in. No silly hills and jumps for me, as I’m not that courageous or confident, but still great fun. I used my friend's brother's bike, as he had a decent spare, and my bike wasn’t suitable for what we were about to do!

(My Titus Roadrunner, my two-wheeled baby, no more forest paths or tree roots to worry about at my age!)

.

The funniest part was I remember that there seemed to be tree trunks in the middle of the paths. On one side the roots seemed to have the gaps filled in for us less adventurous cyclists; the other side had the gaps exposed, meaning you had to get over them, usually meaning getting into the air. I have since mentioned this to an off-road cycling friend, and he agreed with me, so even 13 years ago, I seem to have it right.

I really enjoyed the cycle, except towards the end I came across one of these trunks too quickly; I picked my side and got it wrong (don’t ask me how or why.) I suppose it was just getting split-second decisions wrong. Anyway, I couldn’t get over the exposed roots, and my front wheel got stuck, and as the bike stopped, I went flying, right over the handlebars, flipping a summersault of sorts in Cannock Chase Forest, and I landed flat on my back looking up at the clouds, having a little laugh to myself at the silliness of the situation. Credit to the cycling fraternity though, the group behind me stopped to check I was okay before shooting off, hopefully avoiding tree roots. Not a mobile phone in sight recording my silly situation, and being more concerned about the person than being able to upload a video or photo to social media!

(Part of Cannock Chase - Birches Valley)

"Birches Valley - Follow the Dog Start & Go Ape Stuff" by William Hook is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.

So, we returned home, the silly boys laughing and smiling about the situation and how silly it had been. We all had silly little boy stories from the day, but I had enjoyed it, and it was definitely something I wanted to do again. Until this stage of my cycling life, it had all been roads, paths, and nothing very exciting - maybe quite a few miles some days, but no roots to worry about.

With Christmas approaching, there was no more until January 6th, 2013, and we decided to go to the cycling centre at Llandegla, just west of Wrexham. We went in my friend's brother’s van, and to this day I remember the three silly little boys driving into Wales, having a laugh and a joke along the way.

I remember the car park, trying the bike out again as it had a different gear setup than my own bike. I remember laughing at the fourth friend who had joined us, as he had forgotten his cycling shoes, and he had to wear a funny-looking pair of spare boots. What else? Well, I do believe at the centre you set off from the car park, up through the forest, and to a dispersal point (I hope I’m right) and choose which route you will follow. I remember looking at the scenery and thinking of how much it reminded me of one of the farms I grew up on, too many years ago in Scotland. I remember the purple heather and the dull grey skies, and how good it was to be out in the country. Those memories of my childhood floated about in my head.

I remember my friend telling me to watch the drain across the path, and after that I don’t remember anything else until the 7th of February, sitting in Glasgow Airport departure lounge waiting for a flight to Iceland for my 50th birthday on the 10th, going for a long weekend arranged by my wife. I didn’t know what was going on; I was confused, a bit frantic, and a lot worked up, and I wanted to go home (to my parents in Peebles.) I just wanted to get away.

(My first memory of bad anxiety)

"Glasgow Airport" by paisleyorguk is licensed under CC BY 2.0

My wife said that if it was that bad, we could go home, and I believe we nearly did, but this had been paid for, and it had obviously cost my wife a decent amount of money, so I said, ‘no, we’re going,’ and we did. I forced myself onto the plane, and I’m glad we did, as it is a beautiful country and we had a good weekend. Helped by the booking system giving us first-class seats on the flight out, I have no idea how it happened, as we didn’t pay extra, so there we were with three other passengers in a section of approximately 48 seats, and it was bliss. Unfortunately, that was it, as the system didn’t let us do it on the way home!

I make that 4 weeks and 4 days after visiting Llandegla, and that, as I now know, is my first memory of me having anxiety, and worse, it was bad anxiety, and the rest will be told over time on the site in this specific section. But it will take time, as I want everyone to know.

I hope in time my posts will help someone, somewhere, to better understand the problems with mental health.

Thanks for reading

DJ