Let’s Talk About Mental Health, Because It’s Ok To Do So.

I think it takes a certain mindset to write this, and I hope that moment is now. #WorldMentalHealthDay is about creating awareness, educating and advocating against social stigma. That is my aim today. Let’s hope I can do that.

Unfortunately Mental Health is a dirty term. It carries negative connotations, some sort of natural shame when it is anything but. It’s human. Yet we fear it? Why? It’s created a stigma and fear that means we cannot talk about it. But we need to.

I’ve suffered from a variety of depression, insomnia and anxiety for the better part of a decade. At various stages these issues have come to rule me, and it’s a battle that I still fight.

My mental health journey started sometime in high school. Going to an all boys school was excellent for a sport crazed teenager, but it was a challenging, testosterone fuelled environment. I don’t think I understood the mental impact that could take until I was much older.

I wanted to be a professional athlete. Ever since my first year of school, sat in my Chicago Bulls shirt I told in the school yearbook that I wanted to play in the NBA. An Australian in the mid-90’s wants to play in the NBA when he grows up wasn’t exactly common.

When I was told at state level I was too short to ever become a serious basketball player (I’m barely five feet nine), I carried that with me. It might have been the first chip on my shoulder in my life. When my shoulders gave up on me and ended my promising tennis career, that’s the first time cynicism began to rule my life.

Smoking and drinking became common place towards the end of school, and in the following years I would do far too many things I am not proud of. Let me be clear though; I would not change any of them. They make up the person I am now, my best parts don’t come without the lessons they provided. Mistakes stay mistakes until they become lessons learned.

Insomnia and depression ruled my late teens and early twenties. Now understand; my issues are a combination of life factors it would be wasteful to explain. Everyone has their own reasons after all, I’m just trying to piece together my story without boring you to death.

It was a long time before I was honest about the issues that came to define me for far too long. I believed pretending something wasn’t there was better than taking them head on, which was strange because I am so confrontational by nature.

I get a pit in my stomach writing this, wondering how I will be judged for such honesty. But this issue is bigger than me. If I can use this platform that I’ve created for myself to promote an issue that is close to me, I feel I need to do that.

For a long time I didn’t understand it, but anxiety was probably the biggest battle I should be fighting. The worst thing you can do with anxiety is pretend it isn’t happening. It’s a mistake I made for a while.

I would drive to local sporting commitments with a giant pit in my stomach, I would just want to go home and not play. My anxiety was that paralysing. It was awful, it sucked my enjoyment out of the entire game even if I played a great game and was best on ground.

I still hide somewhat from my issues at times, they don’t just go away. And here’s a huge misconception of how some people treat mental health. “You’ll be right, just don’t worry about it” is a similar sort of phrase heard from the uneducated — now that’s not their fault, they don’t know better.

Asking people to understand what you go through can be very difficult, it’s almost asking them to speak a different language. Now I get frustrated with that don’t get me wrong, that’s born out of the isolation my depression and particularly anxiety could have caused.

That’s something I wanted to touch on — the isolation of mental health issues. It can be crippling, even in social situations. I’ve had moments where I felt more alone and wretched inside when I was with people. I’ve had stages where it’s reversed and having people around did me good, but this is just part of the battle.

In January a couple of summers ago I remember I was with my friends. Now I no longer drink — due to a stomach condition I gave it up around 4–5 years ago and I’m so glad I did. I live a better life because of it. Socially though, it is punishing. But back to the story.

We were all gathered together drinking and laughing, playing games. That day though was a rock bottom day for me. Everyone seemed to be having a ball but I just wanted to be at home on my own. Honestly? Sitting in my room alone or on the couch was what I wanted to do.

It’s an awful feeling, and it is paralysing at times. Not drinking has compounded the isolation that I feel at times, it always has. It’s certainly a huge part of the battle I fight, I think. Being the non-drinker is isolating, the constant questions about it (drinking in Australian culture is HUGE) makes me feel like I am a killjoy. I am no fun. As recently as Saturday I have felt that way.

I have been rattling in my head how to write this but I just think letting it flow is the best way, so I hope that is making this somewhat readable. Anyhow…

A few years ago, I ended up in a Hungarian Hospital after contracting severe gastroenteritis at a Music Festival. I was transported in an ambulance by people who didn’t speak English. Nobody at the hospital spoke English either.

I was terrified, wrapped in foil with IV’s everywhere and all my friends had no idea where I was because I couldn’t get a hold of them on the phone. I went to the medical tent expecting some panadol and to be sent on my way, not to be rushed into an ambulance out of the festival.

Being in a hospital in the middle of nowhere in Eastern Europe, with nobody to help me was a terrifying experience. I called Tanya (my partner) who was in Greece and told her. When I was allowed to leave the hospital seeing my friends again was one of the best feelings I’ve ever felt. They were so happy to see me.

When I flew out to meet Tanya following the festival, I poured out my heart into the travel diary I’d been writing. I realised talking about these things would be a huge part of how I could deal with what was going on inside my head.

In something I’ve barely revealed to people, I spent about a year seeing a psychologist every Tuesday. Doing this is something people never want to tell others, but let me tell you the thing I have realised most through the process I went through by doing this:

Asking for help is not a weakness, it is a strength and don’t you dare tell me different. A person willing to look someone in the eye and ask for their help is a lot stronger than a person pretending nothing is wrong and putting on an act. Don’t listen to that bullshit. That is strength.

Putting on an act is something I think people going through this can all relate to. We all do it in some capacity. You know what? It’s fucking tiresome. Damn, it’s fucking exhausting to be that person. Putting on the persona you want people to see. You shouldn’t need to do that.

Sometimes on bad days or bad nights it drains me to put on a brave face. Maybe not as much nowadays, but I’m not out of the woods. That’s another thing some perhaps doesn’t get. This battle is ongoing.

I wake up in the mornings sometimes and you just don’t want to get out of bed. You don’t really want to see anyone.

If someone is struggling, they should feel comfortable telling someone that they are. You notice something odd in a friend? ASK THEM. Don’t mutter to your other friends about it unless it’s out of concern. That person is likely crying out for a release valve. That could be you.

I’ve always tried to be that person, now I’m no angel. I’m ignorant and I miss things, I don’t pretend to preach to the choir as if I’m an example to follow. I’m still learning all this on the way and hoping what I’ve learned from my experiences and mistakes can be helpful to others.

My journey is far from over. Hell, there’s a chance I’ll fight them for a very long time yet. Maybe forever, who knows. But I’m doing my best.

Don’t ever feel like a burden. If someone honestly believes “a friend in need is a pest” is a person you don’t need in your life. Cut them off like fat. That’s what friendship is. People love you, they want to help. Everyone I’ve told about my battles has come through in some way.

We need to create an ongoing culture where #WorldMentalHealthDay is a celebration, not a reminder. Everyone is fighting some sort of battle, and that’s more than ok.

I am lucky, I will admit. My fiancé Tanya is my guiding light in times where all I see is darkness. That’s what love is sometimes, you give your better half something to lean on when they can’t stand alone. My two dogs Winston and Layla’s reaction when I walk through the door after work can sometimes be exactly what I need. I love that, I will never take it for granted (if I can).

I have an amazing life, to be honest. I have a beautiful family at home, my family is a tight-knit group of loving people and my circle of friends are as loyal as I could ask for.

I’m living my dream of pursuing a career in sports writing. In the last year I’ve achieved things I never thought possible — but that doesn’t cure the battles I fight. They are ongoing and can’t be turned off like a light switch, despite the perception about mental health. These conditions are as real and serious as anything physical.

This has been completely disjointed and an editor’s nightmare, but I hope it made sense to you.

We need to be okay with talking about what is going on, and be more aware that mental health is not a dirty term. Everyone is fighting their own battles, but just maybe if we can create a more welcoming environment might make that battle a little bit easier.

If you have questions — please ask.

If you need someone to talk to — please ask.

If you need anything — just say.

I hope I haven’t offended anyone by writing this and I had so many thoughts honestly I’ve probably left a lot out. Thanks for reading though, I really appreciate it if you did. Let’s start making a world where people can do all those things without fear of backlash.