Mental Health Awareness Week
This last week has been Mental Health Awareness Week. This year’s theme is Be Kind. I’ve shared my story a number of times on social media, and I know mental health isn’t always an easy subject to discuss.
I’ve felt so much kindness over recent years. As I’ve alluded to already, my life has changed considerably recently, but all for the better, and all because friends and family have been so kind to me.
My mental health journey started when I was 17, studying for my A Levels. There were a lot of deaths around me, no one close to me at all, but I wasn’t very resilient and didn’t cope very well with it all. At the time I thought it would get better, that I just had to do my exams, turn 18, and then I won’t be so down. That wasn’t quite the case… I remember seeing opportunities for suicide on every bus journey I went on, I remember not seeing my worth and doing things like going to university because that was the next natural thing to do.
It turns out depression isn’t something you have once, cure, and then it never returns. I’ve had it to varying degrees over the last 12 years, but I’m not afraid to say that any more. It took me a long time to be honest about it, even to tell my parents about it. My brother had to find out by seeing my medication by my bed at University, and I still remember how devastated he was that I couldn’t tell him earlier.
Depression, anxiety, and any mental health challenge is not something ANYONE would wish for or want for someone. It’s horrid and unexpected, but what’s most important whether you’re up or down, is that you’ve got people who love you around you. I was fortunate to also have people praying for me, which I know saved my life on a number of occasions. While I have never attempted suicide I have regularly put myself in dangerous situations in the hope of something happening to me that I didn’t have to do myself.
Why am I sharing so much? Because I strongly believe it is so important to talk about it. To bring it in to the light. To not be ashamed about my struggles. To show others that it’s OK to talk, and that there is light at the end of what can feel like a never ending tunnel.
It’s not that easy. I know it’s not. Those dark days feel so dark. At times I wouldn’t trust myself in the house alone. And I was so, so surprised that counselling worked for me, because I always thought it was just a chemical imbalance in the brain, but it is so much more than that. It turns out I’ve never valued myself very highly – that didn’t start at 18.
But I got there, and you can too. I’m not a trained counsellor, and I can’t fix everything, but I am here if you would like signposting or a listening ear, and I hope that sharing my story helps you in some way or other.