From ‘Just Get Some Fresh Air’ to Crisis: The Reality of Living with Depression…

In recent years, the conversation surrounding mental health has gained significant traction, with many advocating for increased awareness and resources. We have long passed the stage of “locking up the nutty relatives in asylums”. Then yesterday, Wes Streeting waded into the debate by suggesting Mental Health problems are overdiagnosed and sparked fury from disability charities and experts. I’m going to add my anger to the noise because it can’t be stated too often that we need to stop stigmatising sections of the population, particularly those with little or no voice!

I’m now in my 60’s. I’ve always considered myself relatively normal in my emotional responses to everyday problems. In fact, if you ask most people who claim to know me, they’d probably say I’m tough as boots and slightly scary. Then, over a year ago I was diagnosed with depression. Yes, it was winter and don’t we all feel a bit “Meh” in the darkness and cold. But I literally could not raise any enthusiasm for anything. My partner eventually suggested a trip to the doctor. After a tearful at least 40 minute consultation, in which the doctor explained that we lose a lot of our resilience as we get older, I was dispatched with “medication”. Its at this point, I began to realise I have suffered with lots of dark thoughts and sometimes despair all my life, but I have mostly weathered it with some degree of success. Most people call it life’s ups & downs. At what point does it become something you should be concerned about?

Of course, summer comes along, and we all feel slightly more positive, except last summer I didn’t. I plodded on and kept being told I’d snap out of it. I had stopped sleeping at night but would cat nap during the day. By December last year, I felt so exhausted physically & mentally, there were days I could barely get out of bed. If you have suffered from any sort of mental health crisis, you’ll know there’s a common misconception that you “just need to get out in the fresh air”. I confess I have told my daughter, who was diagnosed over 20 years ago with depression, anxiety and borderline personality disorder, that this was all she needed to do. I can assure you that is not really a solution, because not only does it attempt to diminish the problem but actually physically getting a foot across the threshold to go out is a step too far.

Over the last few months my medication was doubled then doubled again. Nothing worked. I had increased anxiety when I was outside on my own, so I’d try not to go out without my family. I probably should say at this point family were not really aware of how bad things were. Then I had a complete tip over the edge. I concluded that I was of no use to anyone and that it would be better if I wasn’t here. The plan was formulated over a couple of nights of rampant insomnia. The only problem I had with the plan was what to do with my dog. He’s large and a bit overprotective. So, I set off for the vet at 8.30am one morning and asked them to put him to sleep. Of course, they pretty much refused because there was nothing wrong with him and after a chat in a side room, they persuaded me, that a better course of action would be to take him to boarding kennels and go and see my doctor. A same day appointment shows that GP’s receptionists are not devoid of empathy and at this point I was finally offered counselling.

I was told there could be a 6 month wait for counselling through the NHS. However, I was contacted within 4 days. I have had 6 weeks of video chats. I like this because I can sit in my pyjamas and no one cares, but also I didn’t have to force myself to go outside. It took maybe 4 weeks to start to see things clearly and rationalise what has happened over the last 12 months. I have made some difficult decisions on my path back. I have surrendered my dog to rescue, and I hope he’s going to get a home with some energetic 30 something who can give him the care and exercise he needs. I know its not fair to him to live with flaky 60 odd year old, who forgets to let him out for a pee and who can’t look after herself sometimes, never mind him. I’ve stopped trying to take on everyone else’s problems and indeed the worlds problems. Yes! turn off the 24 hour a day news! I hope I’m on the path to….I was going to say recovery, but maybe managing it again would be a better description. The medication is a quarter of what it was.

So Mr Wes Streeting…. If anything, it’s under diagnosed. Asking for help once it becomes a problem is less likely than when we can still rationalise. When we can no longer manage our feelings and emotions it’s too late. If “mental health” has become more prevalent in the last few years, then ask why! Blame covid, social media, increased tension in world politics and indeed all those things we have no control over but still feel like we should engage with 24 hours a day. The things that wear down our resilience. It seems to me Streeting is trying to pave a way to justifying his governments cuts to PIP and disability benefits (which I don’t claim btw) by stigmatising us as either lazy or probably just needing to get out in the fresh air. And while I will accept there are degrees to which our mental health affects us, there is no one size fits all and its very easy to go from managing to teetering on the brink or falling over the edge.

P.S If you feel in any way out of sorts, overwhelmed and even just a bit “Meh”, please seek help before it gets out of control. Even if that’s just talking to someone, a friend. Or you can talk to Lifeline on 0800 808 8000