Taming the lions....

Two years ago, back in the infancy of this blog I wrote about being invited to speak to 100 year 10 students from the local high school – beforehand reflecting on Teen Angst, and afterwards in Before the lions.  Well after that terrifying walk into the lion’s den of my old fears personified in the crowded room of teenagers I was a gibbering wreck but glad to have faced it and got it over.

I was invited back last year and it wasn’t so bad, today I hiked with them again (well this year’s yr 10s anyway). Two years of journeying, including some scary Friday night’s at youth club, and now for the 3^rd time of asking I could stand in front of them without shaking, still a bit shaky in finding a starting point, but able to speak and my struggles with bulling at school, the depression, the importance of loving yourself and with resources from Time to Change challenged to stand against stigma and be open to talking about mental health and other tough stuff.

Gabi, my big fluffy dog coming along for the exercise helped break the ice and opened conversations too. It was clear that people were listening and affected by what I shared, both teens and staff. Talking about things that are so personal and touch deep vulnerable bits of you is tough, and for the third time round it is in some ways less scary – I know the audience won’t bite – but in other ways still as hard. 

Yet the power of the personal story is immense, beyond any statistics or flashy adverts, the story of an ordinary person reaches parts nothing else can. Which is why breaking the silence so we can talk to each other, daring to ask for help and daring to try and understand and support each other, is such an important goal.

Lies, Lies, Dying from the lies

I am Angry!!

Angry at the lies we tell, the lies we have told in the past, and the way they still apply today. Which lies? Well admittedly there may be a whole range of them and I am not attempting to take on them all, but the lies that have got me angry are those that get in the way of our mental wellbeing.

As a child I was told, or absorbed somehow, I can’t remember not knowing it, the great lie of childhood bullying ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never harm me’. It may have been intended as a putdown to bullies, a ‘you can’t get me’ claim, but for me it became a reason why my suffering, the fact I cannot remember school before the name calling that continued until I left at 18, was not worth making a fuss about. Why I should be grateful that it was names not physical wounding – yet the words seep in the cracks of who you are, they leak into the roots of your emerging identity, and can wound deep and for longer.

As a girl and now a woman I was saved from the other insidious, deathly lie – ‘Big boys don’t cry’.  Women are the majority among those receiving treatment for depression and other mental health issues, but men are the most likely to take their own lives.  Why? Because ‘big boys don’t cry’ – women can admit to their emotions but generations of men have been brought up to face it all with a stiff upper lip, and the shame of seeking help is greater so they bottle it up until the risk of it exploding in one lethal moment is huge.

Why is my anger riled today particularly? Well I am returning to counselling for support about the long shadows in my life. But mostly because today we farewelled and  buried someone who lived in anguish for decades after the death of the two men in her life, her brother and her father, due to suicidal depression. In an era when the pain wasn’t acknowledged, when men weren’t encouraged to seek support, when ‘big boys don’t cry’ wounds were left unbound, open sores to get infected with terminal depression.  Could things have been different? Could the life story, the family story we remembered today have been different?

How many lives have been lost to the lies, to the stigma?  And how many lives left behind have been torn apart because of the lies our society tells about emotional wounds, about so called weakness.

That is why campaigns such as Time to change are so important, that is why next Friday I will be taking the opportunity to speak to 100 14/15yr olds about the lies, and why talking about mental health is important. We wouldn’t ignore a heart attack, so why should we fear asking for help with a broken heart or spirit?

A 'comeback' day

So today is a good comeback day, it began waking up from one of those really vivid, as tiring as if you have worked all night, confusing dreams – this involved sorting out random furniture in a church hall, with the WI, drama society and general chaos and politics! I still need to get to stage 2 of sorting out my own space first thank you!

Tired I fed the dog opened the garden door and returned back to bed until nearly 2pm.



Bribery to get a photo...



It got better after that, as my day off, and knowing she will be short changed the next couple of days with a full diary, I decided to head off to nearby National Trust place and use my season ticket to go for a long walk around the grounds. We got back from that and I managed to strim a bit more of the meadow that is my back garden, then Gabi let me groom her without needing a lead to confine her.  It was funny to watch her indecision about running away from me, or coming towards me, ... 'lets head that way, no I will, well maybe, yes, no, ohhh, ok I will go to her'!  We then had dinner and mine was real food made from actual vegetables!  A very nice veggie curry with portions for another couple of days.

At the National Trust place I finally brought the kind of local map that shows the footpaths so Gabi and I can explore more places. I am not confident enough to see a footpath sign at the road and feel that I can head across a field and somehow work out where it goes from there, I don’t want to end up where I don’t have public right of way and get all anxious and embarrassed. So now I can look up some  variety of walks and she can get used to the car being a way to get to some good times.



With a branch wider than most tree trunks this has been around a while!!



Part of me feels ready to face a bit more garden, but I am controlling it – lessons from my bad fatigue days, when recovering only use 75% or less of what you feel up to, so you have some saved for the new day.  It is tempting to get as much as possible done on a good day, but better to still be able to do some the day after. So I will add some pics from today, (taking note from the tree, slow and steady wins the long haul) and head to bed... Nos da.

Guilty as charged

I have a guilt problem, it attacks me in lots of ways. Today it bit hard at the end of my assessment meeting with the clinical psychologist. She arranged for a follow up next week to discuss options for support and treatment, but was very open that whatever is decided there would be a waiting list of 3 months at least. She noted that churches often have resources that would enable me to access support sooner.

I know about that, a confidential access to counselling for church ministers, the minister pays part and the Methodist church pays the rest, but without knowing who it is for.  So why have I not gone down that road?  I feel very self conscious that when I crashed at college the church paid to hold me in college for longer and for the weekly counselling I had then – I don’t want to be more of a burden and would feel guilty about taking more. But on the other hand I also feel guilty at clogging the queue in an overstretched NHS service.

The end result of this double guilt effect that her question had unwittingly highlighted was driving home with a feeling that I shouldn’t bother either system and that if I can just get my own act together, well I don’t really need....  Which all essentially equals ‘I’m not worth anyone bothering to invest all that stuff on’ – which is what she had drawn out of our conversation anyway... 

So there you have it – guilty as charged.