Mental Health? Hardest Game In The World

Here’s a quick rant about the sheer drudgery of staying on an even keel

Image: Schäferle/Pixabay

I SOMETIMES WISH that I had a quid – or even a penny – for every hour I’ve spent working on my bloody mental health.

I feel like the Fast Show character – “Mental ’ealth? 30 years, man and boy, I done it! Hardest Game in The World, that is!” – when I think of all the time I’ve lost to shoring up my mood.

I’m thinking about all the runs and rides I made myself do, so I’d feel better…. the hours and days reading self-help books and articles…. the journaling and unsent letters to people who’d hurt me…. the years and years in therapy.

Continue reading “Mental Health? Hardest Game In The World”

The Story Of The Blues (Part One)

I wanted to write about some aspects of depression that aren’t discussed quite so often – but I found it too complicated, and too upsetting. By cutting what I want to say into three upcoming blogs – about Waste, Guilt, Other People – I hope I’ll get it out. Of course, no-one is making you read, if you think them self-indulgent… 

THE FIRST THING I’d say about having depression is that it’s a terrible waste of time.

And, sometimes, it feels that I have wasted most of my life fighting it.

I visited a therapist for the first time when I was about 21, and having panic attacks. Now I’m 53 and continuing to see a shrink once a week.

I still get panic attacks sometimes, but these days I suffer more from full blown, I’m a waste–of-space depression. So, clearly, I’m not sorted out yet. 

In all of those 32 years since I first rocked up in a consulting room, I reckon that I have experienced more bad days than good. 

But I have tried to fight this illness, and in many ways this struggle has come to define my life.

Continue reading “The Story Of The Blues (Part One)”