“You’ll be Grand”
How therapy freed me from caged perceptions in Northern Ireland
You might not know much about the politics of Ireland, and even less about the corner that is technically part of the UK. But Northern Ireland is an interesting place, and the people even more so.
It is filled with years of history, and complexities, and many of us are burdened with an existential identity crisis.
This would take a lifetime to explain and even then, someone not born in this humble part of the world might never understand.
There is an obvious mental health crisis here, and years of troubling history have left a trauma lingering in almost every character, whether they realise it or not.
It took 26 years of living with anxiety until I realised this might not be normal. Living with constant anxious thoughts is not something you have to put up with.
It wasn’t until I was working in a fast-paced, probably toxic job and was finally pushed to the edge.
I was paying £200 a month for a gym membership, exercising almost every day of the week and eating extremely well. Suddenly investing all this time and money into my physical health and entirely ignoring my mental health seemed ridiculous.
I had the flu one day and was extremely unwell. I phoned into work sick, then spent the entire day crying out of guilt that I had left my colleagues without my help for just one day.
My thoughts were ruining my happiness every.single.second.
There is an inherited stigma towards getting professional help in this country. Instead of understanding our internal issues from a medical point of view.
When feeling down, anxious or depressed, we are told the exhausted Irish methods such as “go for a walk in the fresh air, and you’ll be grand,” “take a cup of tea” or “everyone is depressed, you just have to get on with it.”
You are left to cry guilty tears because what have we to be sad about? Or the horrifying alternative — suppress your feelings even further.
But there’s only so much you can suppress before exploding.
I contacted a therapist that afternoon.
I went every couple of weeks to speak to this lovely person, and no one knew that I went.
I went into therapy because I was crying every single day and felt this was a burden on my career. People at work would see me struggle, but I was told that that is the nature of the industry, you just have to get on with it.
I felt weak.
I had this idea that the only thing holding me back from succeeding in my career was my mind. I went to therapy thinking I was paying this woman to fix my insecurities overnight, so I could ignore my feelings to climb the corporate ladder.
A couple of sessions in, I quit my job.
Much to my dismay, there was no quick fix, in fact, all she did was ask me some questions. I soon realised that bettering myself was not by bettering my career, it was about putting myself first.
I thought I was given an easy life, I had a roof over my head and food on the table. I shouldn’t complain because people have it worse.
My dad died when I was six years old, and it left my mum to raise three children on her own. It didn’t enter my head that this would have affected me at all.
We uncovered my desperate need to control the emotions of people stemming from this trauma. I would constantly stare at my mother to spot tears in her eyes and if I felt they were coming, I would distract her with an attempt of humour or a light-hearted question. I was just a child.
When someone asked about my dad, I would defect the question because I didn’t want to make them feel awkward by saying he had passed. What about making yourself feel awkward, Nuala? This didn’t enter my head.
I didn’t care if I hit my car, lost my keys, or got fired from my job. However, if the car damaged another or losing my keys left me late for someone or if my actions at work let someone down, I cared an extreme amount.
These thoughts that I accepted as normal were actually extremely toxic, and I only realised this by speaking to a professional.
People pleasing isn’t always as obvious as we think. I always proclaimed I didn’t care what people thought of me, I’d wear what I wanted, chose my own path and have always been uniquely me.
But people pleasing can creep into relationships, work and everyday life without even realising.
My first relationship was riddled with toxicity. He was an emotional abuser and a gas-lighter. Everything I did was to please him. I didn’t recognise that I was extremely unhappy because I was too focused on his happiness. I blamed myself for his moods and carefully threaded on eggshells. This is a dangerous way to be.
I hear people avoiding breakups, friendships, and toxic situations at work, and it usually stems down to people pleasing.
Northern Ireland is filled with amazing, unique stories, and it has produced some of the most creative, interesting people on this planet. However, there is a humble, often melancholic trait that many of us hold, and I’m not sure why.
Some of us are afraid to be happy, we don’t feel it’s possible and many are living in survival mode, without even realising it.
However, my short stint in therapy gave me the courage to leave my job and put myself first.
I am now following a career in writing, something I thought I wasn’t good enough to pursue. But I am choosing happiness, and so can you.
