Trigger warning: this piece discusses themes of anxiety, depression and OCD.
This is a story of my last two years. I’m not sharing it for sympathy but for strength. This is to help normalise the conversation, which, too often, isn’t a conversation at all.
A couple of years ago, I noticed my brain wasn’t right. I didn’t know what but something up there was off. My top two inches that had served me so well for 23 years were betraying me. We expect bad days, but this was becoming a bad week and then a bad month. As blokes tend to do, I got on with it.
Soon after, a thought popped into my head while driving; the worst kind of thought. Confused, I kept driving, but the thoughts kept coming. The more I tried to push them away, the quicker they returned. The following week I couldn’t go five seconds without the same disturbing thoughts. I loved my life, I should’ve been happy and these thoughts weren’t mine - I felt like a madman. I didn’t know how to deal with them, so, eventually, I started believing them. If I’m thinking it, it must be true, right? I told myself I’d wake up tomorrow feeling normal, but tomorrow kept getting further away. I lay awake thinking I’d have to give in to my thoughts soon.
I can only describe the following week as a spiral. I reckon that'll always be the worst week of my life. I knew I couldn’t get any sicker, and looking back it's scary how quickly mental illness can get you. I needed help ASAP. I called Mum in agony, which is probably the best decision I’ve made. She listened and promised I would be myself again soon. I went home, got to the doctor, started medication, began meditating and did everything advised. And while I wasn’t myself, I felt better. I was off to Scotland for a university exchange weeks later, and despite suggestions to delay, I went. I travelled Europe and felt okay. I thought I was in the clear, but once I arrived in Scotland, the thoughts returned. By now I'd learnt these were intrusive thoughts stemming from OCD - a relative of depression and anxiety - and it became a family reunion in Edinburgh.
Through meditation, I could notice a thought for a thought, and I was managing, but my brain remained occupied. I don’t know why this happened, but the brain doesn’t need a reason. I felt unsafe in my own company, yet couldn’t bear to socialise. It sounds ridiculous and I look back with that exact view. Why couldn’t I just think about something else?
Returning to New Zealand, not much had changed, so I switched medication. I kept following advice and after some time, I gradually clicked. After a year, the repetitive song of unwanted thoughts, anxious days and low moods finally stopped playing. A treatable condition in my brain had been holding me back. Today, by no means am I a monk, and there are bumps in the road, but the space between my ears is peaceful. I see no ceiling on how happy I can become.
I was on the fence about sharing this, but I remember in those dark days, reading my mate Harry Averill’s book 'Hungry to Be Happy' gave me hope. It was raw, honest, and proof that things get better. So now that I can look back and tell the tale, if I can’t help someone then what was it all for? The term mental health is thrown around a lot, but it’s real stories from ordinary people that create change. You’re not going crazy, you're not alone, and you will get through this. The first, and most important step, is asking for help.
Mental health issues can sneak up on anyone, regardless of how happy they seem. A conversation can start from either side, so if you’re feeling great or if you’re in the gutter, reach out to a mate. Life's hard but it's easier together. The goal here isn’t sympathy, it’s to pass on the strength that Harry and others gave me. Let’s keep the conversation going.
Acknowledgements
A colossal thanks must go to those who supported me during this whirlwind and put up with the nonsense that came with it. I really do have the best family and friends. If I can return the favour one day, or pass it forward to anyone reading, I’m only a conversation away.
-George
Voices of Hope wants you to know that you do not have to do this alone. Click here to 'find help' - it's not weak to speak!