Mental Health - sharing my experience with young people

[I think this forum is the best fit. I really don't see a better place for it. Mods, please do feel free to move it if you see a better spot]

I wrote this to share on Facebook, but thought that this community might benefit as well.

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I had a rather tough day at work today.

I participated in a whole school assembly around Mental Health Awareness Week. Staff were reading letters to their younger self, with an emphasis on mental health. I was one of five on stage, and I was talking about the depression I had at University. At its worst I was spending 20 hours a day in bed, and I felt trapped in a groove between lectures and sleeping.

It was hard to write about, and even harder to read out loud. I ended up crying on stage in front of 900 people. Much fun was had by all.

Over the weekend I thought about what I wanted to include. I wanted to share with our students the positives, not just the dark times. The friends who reached out a hand to help. The cup of tea after lectures. The unjudgemental company, when I wasn’t myself. The family intervention in the form of a compulsory skiing holiday - perfect decision by the way, that was when I turned the corner and started coming back to myself.

In retrospect, I realise that my friends were as clueless about how to help me, as I was to help myself. I remember telling one to not let me go back to my room and bed, after lectures. She steered me to her room, fed me tea and just kept me company. I think that day was the first conscious action I took to take charge of the situation, and I couldn’t have done it without her physical and moral support in that moment.

On stage today I totally choked up. Recalling that time is such a conflicted mess of emotions. That deep sadness sits there, and I can remember what it was like. But I also clearly remember the love and support of those around me, and that memory itself is bittersweet. Life moves on. We all moved apart. We still are friends, and that won’t ever change. But we aren’t close like we once were.

These days I guard my mental health quite carefully. I pay attention to my mood, and especially to my energy levels. Getting unreasonably tired or apathetic is a warning sign for me. My bike ride to work gets the wind in my face every day, and work with amazing kids keeps me smiling. But I’m wary. I know myself much better now than I did then.

I’ve spoken about this before quite a few times in school, with colleagues and pupils. However today was something different. Young people get told about mental health issues, but in the abstract. They see young people like themselves struggling. They don’t hear the stories of adults who have walked the path before them, and how they found their feet again on the other side. They don’t see adults as fragile people with their own lives and own issues going on, and so they can’t relate what they are told to their own journey.

Today I have had literally dozens of pupils stop and talk to me about my experiences. They genuinely want to know. The authenticity mattered.
“I looked around when you were done Sir. I’ve never seen an entire boys house silent after a mental health talk”.
Two others boys said they had a tear in their eyes when I was talking.
A group of boys who I’ve never had any dealings with before stopped me to talk it through.

Around 20% of people will suffer from depression at some stage of their lives. Had I been more aware of depression, and more capable of talking about what was happening in my life, I might have spotted the signs before they got too bad. And I might have had a clue how to help myself get back on an even keel. I spoke today, because the young people I work with need to hear these stories, complete with the choking up and tears. They need to see us struggling with these issues, because it gives them permission to talk about them themselves.

To my family, and my Pembroke family. Thank you.
And to those who saw me vulnerable today at work and reached out with your messages, hugs, and cups of tea. Thank you. I needed them.

That was a seriously brave and important thing to do! Well done, Michael! That had to be really hard. Sending some virtual hugs your way. I could imagine you might have something of a vulnerability hangover! Sharing those sort of experiences is so helpful for normalizing talking about difficult feelings and experiences. And obviously, being able to talk about them is essential to getting support in moving through them.

Even though it's a bit different, your post made me think of this talk and wonder how many lives you may have profoundly affected (maybe even saved) by having the courage to talk about that.

Heather Sharpe wrote:I could imagine you might have something of a vulnerability hangover!

Perfect term for it, yes!

I  remember well college being a difficult time for me. Particularly the first year. In retrospect I wasn't well - I had one of those 'flu viruses that leave you achy and tired for years afterwards. But just being away from home was very difficult and must be for most young people. I turned out to be not who I thought I was going to be, which felt strange.

I hope that your audience remember your words when or if they need to. It's important not to feel alone and be able to reach for help, knowing that it isn't a failure.

What a fabulous thing you did! I have great respect for you. I also know that when you go stirring those memories up it takes a while for things to settle so I hope you are being especially kind to yourself.

I taught high school and keep up with old teacher colleagues. Just the other day I was talking with one about how even at the best schools in the world we are often leaving kids adrift for the most essential parts of life: how do I find my own happiness? how do I learn to deal with failure and suffering? how do I learn to love and respect myself? We generally fumble through and figure it out eventually (or maybe not....), but this to me is the most important thing we can teach. Good on you for being the person to go ahead and take the first step.

That is just the sort of inspirational sharing that can make a difference in someones life somewhere on their journey.

Thank you so much for sharing here...

“Honesty and transparency make you vulnerable.
Be honest and transparent anyway.”

Mother Teresa

Tereza Okava wrote:What a fabulous thing you did! I have great respect for you. I also know that when you go stirring those memories up it takes a while for things to settle so I hope you are being especially kind to yourself.

I'm taking it fairly gently. I'm definitely a bit fragile still today, especially when people approach me to talk about it. But it's passing, fortunately.

The term "vulnerability hangover" that was used above is so apt. I've dealt with the actual event, but it took a lot out of me. I'm so please I did it though. I went in with my eyes open. I knew how hard I would find it to walk about it. My friend who organised the assembly keeps trying to apologise for putting me up to it!

I had one of the school deputy heads talk to me about it in the lunch queue today. Apparently I nearly had him in tears on stage too, hearing me and the others talk about it. Clearly made an impact. Unfortunately he made me tear up again as I was collecting my food, which was inconvenient!

I'm doing fine. I think a good night sleep tonight will sort me out. And maybe I won't suggest a MH debate motion for a week or two!

I taught high school and keep up with old teacher colleagues. Just the other day I was talking with one about how even at the best schools in the world we are often leaving kids adrift for the most essential parts of life: how do I find my own happiness? how do I learn to deal with failure and suffering? how do I learn to love and respect myself? We generally fumble through and figure it out eventually (or maybe not....), but this to me is the most important thing we can teach. Good on you for being the person to go ahead and take the first step.

Please do share this with your teaching colleagues. I'd love for other teachers to get on board with this. The colleagues I spoke with shared their personal experiences as well. Mine was perhaps a bit more raw, but no less serious and important than theirs. The format of a letter to my younger self seemed to work really well at crossing the generational divide, and our brief was to focus on the positive actions and the path forward.

Today is Saturday. I gave the assembly on Monday.

Today was the first day where I felt fully back to normal again. I've teared up a few times each day over the week, as people have spoken to me about it. Glad to be back on an even keel again.

I've had so much positive feedback in school. Pupils, staff, and even parents of pupils after they have talked about it at home. But I don't think I'll be making a regular thing of talking so publicly about it. Once in a teaching career is probably enough!