Courtesy of a tip-off by Bristol’s top journalist (I hope the cheque is in the post, Maggsy), I find myself watching an unexpectedly fascinating video from the Lad Bible website about mental health, presented by the former footballer Dean Windass and the boxer Tyson Fury. It’s fascinating on a number of levels, not least because of the sheer levels of honesty on display from both men.
Both Windass and Fury have suffered from poor mental health. Indeed, they both very nearly ended their own lives when they became overwhelmed by the Black Dog. It takes a hell of a lot of honesty and, I must add, bravery from them, to be so open.
Are they helping to break the stigma of mental health? I’m not sure if I can answer that because I honestly don’t know. My own experience – see? It’s all about me again – is that I have seen some evidence that the stigma is beginning to be addressed, if not removed altogether. I have worked with employers who have shown great sympathy and empathy and others (well, it’s just the one, really) who have shown none. And I certainly know now who my friends are and who they aren’t.
Windass and Fury made several interesting points which I certainly agreed with and the one that struck me as the most important was this: could you ever be cured of depression? Their view was that you couldn’t.
Now that squares with my worldview about depression. I hate to use terms like ‘suffered from’ and struggled with’ mental health over the years because it’s more complex than that. The celebrations of my 50 ‘glorious’ years of mental illness continue unabated. I concluded long ago that there was no cure for my depression, just ways and means of managing and living with it. I am loathe to say that it is the exact same for everyone because I do know people who say they have been cured, that they no longer have the demons they used to have, that the Black Dog has been put to sleep permanently. All well and good. As none of us are the same, I am prepared to believe that. However, given that mental illness is an illness and not the same as being fed up, then only mental health – medical – treatment will cure it. Few people say their heart disease or cancer went away all on its own. If we are to treat mental and physical ill health on the same level, we need to acknowledge that.
It is definitely good to talk about your mental health. I know because I usually write about it and don’t talk about it for fear of coming across as wallowing in a pool of self-pity. So, I just stay in and, because of the anxiety that accompanies my Black dog, I don’t go out much, almost always avoiding social situations where there are likely to be large numbers of people.
Honesty doesn’t always pay, I’m afraid, and I say that as someone who becomes consumed with guilt if I find a penny in my car that someone must have dropped. I wasn’t honest and open with my mental health until about a decade ago, when I was surprised to find my civil service employer was very considerate and caring. I wish I’d ‘come out’ much earlier but when I went to work for the British Red Cross, I found the exact opposite, culminating in an occupational health therapist who declared me “emotionally weak” after I had been bullied and abused at work, resulting in a full-on breakdown. On balance, though, I would always advise anyone with any kind of mental health concern to consult a professional.
Happily, Windass and Fury are still around to tell their stories. That, more than anything, brings hope. And we should all take strength from that. But beware because there are still some right bastards out there. Never forget that bit.
