In The Beginning ...

This is a talk I gave for World Mental Health Day (10th October, in case you missed it). I wanted to share some of my earlier experiences of mental distress – how it all began.

I can track the start of my mental health problems back to my early teens. On the surface I was normal enough, I didn’t grow three heads and I didn’t turn blue, red or purple. Nothing much changed on the outside where others could see it – but on the inside things weren’t so good. Things began to feel very wrong, and I found it hard to get up and do the things I always did. I felt set apart from everyone, and I didn’t know why. I’d always helped my friends out by being the one they talked too, but this was becoming too much for me too – and I found myself pulling away from everyone.

To cope with these changes, and the chaos inside my head, I discovered a way to deal with it that was all mine – a secret - and a way of feeling in control again. I began to self harm, to cut myself. At first it was only now and then, and only a little, but it gradually got worse and became a problem all of it’s own. The thing with self harm is that it’s a secret. It’s not something you share with the world, and not something you can ask someone about. It loaded with guilt, shame and you can become trapped in it. The thing that makes it so difficult to give up is that it does actually help a little, it calmed me down and it made me feel in control. The downside, though, is way bigger than any of the benefits. Like I said, you can become trapped in it – a victim of your own silence.

With the self harm came depression – I felt like absolute crap inside. I didn’t like myself at all, I couldn’t see my good qualities and I used to beat myself up for all the bad ones which were glaringly obvious to me. I became a perfectionist for a while, I’d throw myself into stuff and not stop until it was right. At the same time I was trying hard to be the perfect daughter, sister & friend – I crafted a mask that I wore whenever I was around anyone. Everyone has one, I think. Mine wore a smile, a laugh even, and I used it so often that I forgot what my real face was like. That might sound weird, I know, but if you’re constantly acting in a particular way eventually it gets confusing where you end and the act begins.

Again, I knew something was up but I felt unable to talk to anyone. I’d closed all the doors by keeping it all a secret and I was unsure how to open them again. It was a really lonely time, probably made worse by the fact that I wasn’t alone, not physically anyway.

Things stayed on a level through most of my school life. Most of the time I was able to act ok, and what was inside my head was my secret. Sometimes it did spill over, when other things got stressful and I became unable to hold some of it in. During these times I had a lot of anxiety (in the form of panic attacks, which no one recognised as stress) and I missed classes (the old ‘I’ve got a stomach bug’, ‘I don’t feel well’ routine). It’d get too hard to carry on and I’d feel my mask cracking – but then I’d catch myself and tell myself to get a grip. I’d force the smile back in place and get back to it.

In the time between then and now I’ve been through a lot, and learnt a lot too. I did my A-Levels, I went to uni, went mad, dropped out, was admitted to hospital, got better, did some more studying, got mad again, and again, got better, started a website, got a little bit mad, got a little bit better, got a flat and a cat, started doing training with the PLUS group …. it’s been a long and winding road.

My own personal madness has taken the form of depression, anxiety, hearing voices that aren’t there, believing strange stuff, self harm, feeling paranoid, feeling suicidal at times …. a lot of different things, some that I find it hard to explain to you. I’ve had labels attached to me including the much feared and much misunderstood one of ‘schizophrenia’. But I’m more than all that – I have strengths, weaknesses, likes, dislikes … I have a thing for retail therapy, for playing music and for drinking too much caffeine. I have a life outside of ‘being mad’, we all do, and that’s important to remember.

What I want to get over to you is that my mental health problems have been shaped a lot by the experiences I’ve had and the choices I’ve made. Looking back I think that if I’d have been brave enough to tell someone how I was feeling and get some help that it might have saved me a lot of grief. I learnt not to talk about things far too easily, and it has taken a long time to learn the art of opening up and trusting people again.

My other hope is that you take will away the message that ‘being mad doesn’t make you bad’. There are lots of misconceptions about mental illness, a lot of stigma and a lot of prejudice. Hopefully you won’t become part of that prejudice. Hopefully, if you know someone who is going through a tough time you’ll maybe understand them a little more.

Rachel Studley © 2003