Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will only cause permanent psychological damage.

I’m mental.

And Im not alone apparently.

According to the NHS, 1 in 6 people right this very moment are experiencing anxiety, depression or unmanageable stress. But 75% of them won’t do anything about it because they either don’t want to recognise it or they feel they will be stigmatised by doing so. It is the stigma of mental health issues often keeps people from seeking the help they need.

But the reality of course is that recovery is possible. (Just like in physical health issues) – if only we can learn to remove the taboos.

I’ve got Pure Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), General Anxiety Disorder (GAD) and Hypochondria

Pure O (OCD) is the kingpin here. Not the ‘good OCD - compulsively cleaning the house or funny OCD, going through daft rituals before leaving the house. No the destructive OCD where my mind latches on to intrusive thoughts and plays them over and over...again and again in an awful Clockwork Orange style perpetual nightmare. I find my mind latching onto a hook and dragging me inwards – inexorably downwards into this Dante’s Inferno. It can get so intense that sometimes I almost vomit with the stress of trying to cope with the thoughts.

There’s nothing ‘general’ about GAD. It’s a bastard. Imagine being permanently on edge, just waiting for something awful to happen. All the time. That ‘Fight or Flight’ syndrome is permanently switched on, which means I’m on constant ‘hot stand-by'. And it’s exhausting. It cripples me with almost permanent insomnia and hypersensitivity. I am rabidly impatient and irritable and intolerant most days.   

Hypochondria might sound like a joke but believe me it isn’t. Imagine every twinge in your body, every itch every headache, every pain in the chest. They aren’t these things! They’re early stage symptoms of MS. Its skin cancer. It’s a brain tumour. It’s a Cardiac Arrest. So I’m constantly in a state of panic, thinking my body is destroying itself from within. Battling against my already fragile mind, impeded by GAD OCD and ravaged by a lack of sleep.

Given my life story it’s hardly surprising. I won’t bore you with the finer details suffice it to say my childhood and adolescence was riddled with physical mental and sexual abuse from my mother, those paid to care for me and my peers. My early 20s was complete turmoil – living in a camper van for months at a time, in and out of one house to another, no steady job and no solid family network for support. My late 20s and 30s was spent torn between being in the UK to be with my son or back home in Jersey. Home was a series of dosshouses and friends rented rooms.

Things only really settled down when I finally had the where-withal to move into my own rented accommodation at the age of 35. It was the first place I had ever had that I could call my own home. Since meeting my wonderful wife Janet, my life has become infinitely more stable. Work is prosperous, I have savings, and I’m comfortable. I feel secure.

So it’s a terrible irony that only now are these mental issues really coming to the fore. But it’s entirely predictable. I’ve spent all my life fighting the fight –struggling just to be recognised and to exist. During those times my overactive mind served me well. It protected me, helped me navigate the choppy waters on my troubled life, it watched my back for anticipated danger, it reassured me when I felt like giving in. The problem is, I don’t need that mindset now. And so like a Demobbed army, my mind sits there impatiently, twitching, restless, nervous – looking for release. And in turn, it manifests in my trio of friends OCD GAD and Hypochondria.

Fortunately I recognise this and I know what’s happening. Unfortunately I haven’t yet learned the required skills to deal with the symptoms (that will be your CBT). I need to learn how to break the negative pattern of thought.  

But in parallel, I need to take on a much more challenging task. I need to also reach back into my past and unravel all those negative behaviours to see where they started from. (Psycho-therapy) This is very difficult because of course my current behaviour sets are 45 years well learned.

It’s a challenge.

So that’s my mental story.

I wrote this blog to draw attention to the scourge that is mental health and to shine a light on it. It’s not a dirty word. Mental health ought to be viewed in the same manner as physical health. It should be recognised that Mental illness is a treatable health issue, just like blood pressure, high cholesterol or diabetes .With 1 in 6 people suffering in silence, chances are, about a half dozen of my friends are in the same situation. Help is out there. Mental health is much more widely recognised now. There is still a long way to go but there is a rapidly growing support network available to you, especially online.

I want to end on a positive note. I’m in therapy for the first time on 45 years. In today’s world I would have been put in therapy as a child so it’s a little bit late. But.... I’m IN therapy!  I have ups and downs and now that my trio of friends know I’m on to them, I’ve been told to expect some resistance. And I can testify, my three little friends are being very stubborn.

But recognition is the first step. I’ve already done that and I’m now on the journey to recovery. Who knows what will happen but I hope that I have finally begun the steady climb back up and soon will break through the clouds and be at peace and calm with myself, my loved ones and my world.

Peace.

Love.

(And I don’t give a damn how hippy that sounds :o)