In the Dark

There’s a feature on Facebook that reminds you of things you posted there on the same day in previous years. It’s often a pleasant thing to be reminded of past events involving your friends but occasionally the memories are not so nice.

Over the past few weeks Facebook has been bringing back posts that I put up a decade ago, when I was experiencing serious mental health issues that had gone on for months. I ended up in a terrible state in summer 2012, resulting in me spending some time in a psychiatric institution near Cardiff.

Some time after that I wrote a piece for Time to Change Wales from which I’ve taken the following excerpt:

I realize how stupid it was for me not to have sought professional help before. It’s only now, looking back, that I realize how ill I actually was. I had almost left it too late. I know I’m not “cured”. I’ll no doubt have to confront this problem again. But next time I know what to do.

So why did I leave it so long? Fear of the stigma, perhaps. But I suppose also pride. It can be difficult to ask for help, to admit to yourself, your friends and your colleagues that you can’t cope, especially when you’re in a job in which you feel that people “expect more” of you. Difficult, yes, but not impossible, and certainly necessary. Don’t do what I did. Life’s too short.

Although I did not enjoy at all the experience of being in a high-dependency psychiatric unit, I was lucky that I got professional help in time back then. Even more happily, in recent years I haven’t had any problems of the same severity.

I have only just come to understand, however, how far I was irreversibly diminished as a person by that episode, not only in social settings but also intellectually. My ability to concentrate has greatly deteriorated, for example, and I have far less energy. The fact that I’m also getting old – another irreversible change – hasn’t helped!

On top of all this, bridges that you burned when you were not in your right mind can’t be rebuilt, no matter how much you wish they could. You can’t hope to go back to things exactly as they were. It’s taken me a decade to realize that it this is a positive: there’s no point in being haunted by the past and dreaming about undoing things that can’t be undone. Moving on is the only way to move forward.

I don’t know if these thoughts will help anyone else who might happen to read this blog, but I hope they do.

This entry was posted on February 12, 2022 at 7:39 pm and is filed under Biographical, Cardiff, Mental Health. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.