1066 All Stars

Where it all began

I had been on anti-depressants for about five years but I never really understood quite what depression was. Despite the tablets, over time I had become more withdrawn, the activities I used to enjoy no longer appealed. Life had become something to be endured, a roller coaster that I wish would stop so that I could get off.

Tipping point

The point of action came at work following a disappointing mid-year review. I had been spending more and more time at work, even working additional hours at home and yet I was aware that my performance had begun to suffer. And now here it was in black and white.

I spoke to the HR team who in turn referred me to Occupational Health. It acted as a validation of sorts; there was something wrong. They suggested I take some time off and speak to a psychiatrist and so, after going through the NHS mental health service, I eventually made an appointment.

The psychiatrist summed me up within that 45 minute meeting; I was suffering from anxiety and depression. But the prognosis was good, there was hope for a full recovery and he recommended that I go to the Priory at Roehampton.

First impressions

Whatever expectations I had of therapy were smashed on the first day. My first session, a group therapy, showed me that the other patients were just like me; ordinary people who had given too much for too long until finally something had to give.

Initially I expected to be in therapy for two weeks. I would have treatment, get better and go back to my life. Back to my job. For the first few days, I even tried to maintain both therapy and work, before realising that therapy would be a full time task. Before I knew it, two weeks became four, four became six. In the end, I would spend three months in therapy.

It was during that first group session that another patient remarked that they were ill. This seemed strange to me. I did not consider myself as ill. I had no physical ailment, I was simply having difficulties. Surely I just needed a break, perhaps to learn how to do things better and then I would be back to normal.

The journey

I resisted for the first two weeks. But by week three, my defences started to crumble to be replaced with a sense of frustration. I started to question why I wasn’t better yet. In fact if anything I had started to feel worse. How could this be?

But I came to realise that this was part of the process. Depression manifests differently in each of us. For some, it may be triggered by a single traumatic event. For me, it was an accumulation of events throughout my life, some minor and some major, building into an anxiety that spiralled up whilst at the same time my mood spiralled down. I had to tear down the walls I had put up in self-defence, rebuild the jigsaw puzzle of my mind. It was time to be kind to myself.

Taking off the mask

The Priory provided an environment of safety and support. In the outside world, it was often easier to slip on a mask, to be the person that others expected me to be. But here I could be myself, surrounded by like-minded people and professional, empathetic therapists. Each session was different – from assertiveness to schemas, anger management to mindfulness.

And creative writing, sessions built around free-form writing to help us tap into our emotions and that helped to reignite a passion for writing that I thought long since extinguished.

But the journey is not walked alone. I was assigned a key worker, there to help, guide and support me at every stage of my recovery, together with a 1-2-1 therapist, helping me to really understand the roots of my mental illness and, just as importantly, how I could work to overcome them. And friendships were formed, we as patients helping and supporting each other through recovery and beyond.

Reflection

When I first entered therapy, I did so with the mind-set that I was flawed, that there was something missing within me that would prevent me ever being happy. In a way I hoped that this was true; I didn’t want to get better because getting better meant facing up to real life. I wanted to escape. I wanted to wallow.

But gradually therapy helped me reach a fundamental truth, one that, once I was ready to accept it, would be liberating; I could change.

I was not weak, I was not flawed and I was not broken. I was ill and I needed help to get better. Finally I began to understand the thinking errors and behaviours that had led me to this point; black and white thinking, avoidance, catastrophising. Once I accepted that I was the cause of my illness I began to accept that I could also be the cure.

But there was no magic pill. The Priory does not offer a quick fix for depression and anxiety. Instead therapy is a tool box of coping strategies, to be opened when required. I had to become the change I wanted to see.

It is a terrible irony that those most in need of help are the ones least likely to ask for it. I had not recognised that I was ill, I thought I was simply weak, stupid, inferior. So what advice can I offer someone who is struggling and wondering if they should seek help?

1. It is not weakness to ask for help. In fact, it is one of the bravest things that any of us can do.

2. You are not alone. Mental illness affects 1 in 4 in the UK. It is more common than you might think.

3. Things can get better. You can change. I know it because I have seen it, I have done it, I am living it.

Life after therapy

My life has changed immeasurably since leaving therapy. I never did return to my job, my role made redundant whilst still in therapy. But eventually I returned to work in a different environment, which presented a new challenge, the strategies learnt helping me through.

Sadder times lay on the horizon as a few months later my Dad lost his long battle with Motor Neurone Disease, the most difficult part of which was perhaps the knowledge that he never got to meet his grandson, born three months later.

And I achieved a life-long ambition as I carried on the writing that I started at the Priory and published my own book, a collection of blogs and short stories, charting my experiences of mental illness and the many lessons learned in therapy. I have since published two more books and hope to release a collection of children's stories later this year.

I am forever indebted to the support and advice I received at the Priory. I am not cured of depression and anxiety. I never will be. These are issues that I must face and challenge every day. But life is a journey, not a destination.

And I am determined to enjoy the ride.