Mental Health Awareness Week 2024

I have seen lots of posts marking mental health awareness week and because sharing stories can be powerful, here’s some of mine.

I remember the moment I knew I needed help really clearly which is odd because everything else around the time is vague. I was sitting on our sofa at home and I was working because that’s mostly what I did then. My girlfriend Kath was talking to me and I couldn’t understand her. It was like she was speaking in a language I didn’t know.

I went to see my doctor. She was amazing. I thought I was ‘just a bit tired’ and asked if it would be unreasonable to ask for a week off. She asked me a series of questions and then talked to me about how she thought I had stress induced depression and anxiety. I was confused. I have always been fairly quiet and introvert but depressed? I’ve always been a bit shy but anxious? But as the doctor talked through my symptoms it made sense. She wanted to sign me off for 6 months. I couldn’t comprehend that so we agreed 3 months and and I was sure I’d be back much sooner.

I wasn’t. I went on a stress awareness course. It wasn’t for me. I ran lots of miles, that helped. I moved jobs, that helped for a while. And slowly slowly I began to recognise that the old me didn’t exist anymore, she’s not there for me to ‘get back to’. I began to understand that in many ways I was never going to be well again or at least the sort of well that doesn’t need to think about mental health. I had allowed myself to burn out completely and things are never going to be the same again.

Today I’m mostly fine. I can be ridiculously anxious about the most insignificant things: where can I park the car, have I really booked that train ticket, sending a simple email, going to a new venue while at the same time I’ll happily do things that might be more anxiety inducing for many like stand in a classroom full of students… I haven’t had a day where getting out of bed seems impossible for a long long time but being able to work at home for quite a lot of my time hugely helps. The pace is different, my brain gets more down time.

Because for me that’s how depression and anxiety manifest, my brain gets tired. It stops processing as clearly, coherently or sharply as it can. And as an academic that is scary. So where am I now.

The first episode (not really the right word) wasn’t related to or triggered by a person or incident- it was probably fairly classic burnout. Thereafter the worst times have been the result of bullying, micro aggressions, toxic environment and me trying too hard to cope within those environments. Yet I do still fundamentally trust people. Less so institutions. In my experience universities don’t take mental health seriously. If they did our HE landscape would look very different. That’s taking nothing away from individuals within institutions who do great work in this area.

I have always been loyal to friends and colleagues I think. I am now fiercely protective over their wellbeing, sometimes too much so. I am also fiercely protective over me and much more aware of triggers and warning signs. But I’m not patient with myself. Things take longer, work progresses more slowly and I do less than I did. And while some of it naturally comes with shifting priorities as I have got older, I am not always ok with that. I’m better but not good at not over working and I am far less tolerant of contexts that glorify busy-ness. Sometimes I get scared when my brain needs to go slow.

The thing I have struggled with most is being that flaky colleague. I have, when I’ve been at my worst, let colleagues, co-authors, editors and authors writing for me down. I’ve disappeared on people and not delivered on promises. I hate that. It also has a knock on effect that goes on for a long time. Letting people down is awful and I am not particularly good at apologising and moving on.

But I am moving on, every day. Step by step. It’s taken most of a decade and several job changes, lots of sleep, lots of running miles and lots of breathing to get to where I am now.

I suppose what I am really saying is that I’m ok. I now know my brain pretty well. I have my coping strategies and the privilege of being able to pay for therapy. I have support and I have way more good days than other days. I have my sense of humour back and the confidence to know that it’s ok to not be ok and the confidence to walk away from anything toxic without any hesitation. I’m not special so if I can do this, anyone can.