Let's talk

Mental health.

It sounds a bit full on doesn't it?

Why is it that when we come down with the latest bug going around we are so open in talking about it, asking for help and admitting that it's hard and we're struggling but when the illness is in your head we hush it up, plaster a smile on and say 'I'm fine'?

It's almost nonsensical that the one illness that can be helped by talking and support is the one we refuse to talk about.

I'm as guilty as anyone with this. If someone asks me how I've been I'm hardly going to reply with 'Actually Susan I've been pacing around the house all night thinking about all the things I dislike about myself, how I'm going to fail in life and most likely die alone'. It's just not something I'm going to talk about when I bump into someone in the middle of town. Plus we all develop our own coping mechanisms and for me, talking isn't one of them.

But maybe we should talk about it more. There's the whole cliché of 'talking helps' and obviously for some it does but it also makes it more normal. And it should be a normal thing we talk about. 1 in 4 people experience a mental health problem in the UK every year so think about all the people you know. Your friends, family, colleagues, neighbours, the mums you smile at on the school run, the man you small talk with at the corner shop and in the world of social media, your Instagram/Facebook/ Twitter/Snapchat friends. A good chunk of them will be going through their own mental battles and if we were a little bit more open then maybe we'd all feel less alone.

And that's the worst part isn't it? It doesn't matter how many people you have around you, you feel alone.

Jett was around six months old before I felt brave enough to talk to my health visitor about how I'd been feeling. For months I was battling with low moods, hardly eating, hardly sleeping but I didn't want to acknowledge it because I felt so ungrateful. I had this beautiful baby boy who slept through the night from a young age, took to weaning without any issues, no health issues, no colic and he was so easy going and happy and I loved him with every fibre of my being but I was so miserable and I didn't know why. Trying to get the words out was so difficult but I was fortunate to have an amazing health visitor who made me realise it was ok to feel like that and that sometimes as a parent, you have to take care of yourself before you can take care of others.

Fast forward to 2016 and it was like I fell into a black hole again. Except this time it was worse. A sudden bereavement shook my entire world. Losing someone so suddenly and unexpectedly is always going to be a difficult time, I'd been in a really good place and everything was going so well and then my bubble was burst and nothing was the same anymore. I dwelled on everything.

"Why did it happen?"

"I could have done things differently"

"Maybe if I would have done..."

Like before I didn't acknowledge it. I went to work, I went to uni, I smiled, I laughed, I said I was coping but I really wasn't. Those thoughts I'd been having started turning into little voices, voices that told me all the bad things that could happen. I suddenly felt unable to do daft things like make a phone call, I'd have my phone in my hand with the number ready and I'd know what I needed to say but I couldn't do it. My hands would start shaking, my heart felt like it would burst through my chest, I couldn't hear anything because it felt like an airbag had gone off in my head. The voices would tell me that I'd sound dumb, I'd mess it up, just leave it and do it tomorrow. This started happening a lot and after two weeks of almost being housebound I forced myself to make a doctors appointment and I'm pretty sure I cried the whole way through it. There was tears and snot everywhere and I felt sure he'd just tell me I was just being dramatic and should just get over it. But he was lovely, he listened, he empathised, he reassured and explained that this is actually a 'thing'.

Anxiety. It's definitely a thing and it's all consuming, it sucks you in and doesn't let you go without a fight. A year on and it's still a battle but now I'm so much more aware of it. Some days are great and some not so much. One little thing can send me into a meltdown and it's hard work to pull yourself out of it.

So there it is, that's my issues. I'm sure you have yours too. I'm still not going to tell Susan about them but if I put them out there a little maybe it can help one person realise that just because we're not talking about it, doesn't mean we're not going through it.