Deep Impact: Niall Breslin Mental Health Special

Niall Breslin already has a CV longer than your arm, but there’s no doubt that the newest addition to it means something special. ‘Social Entrepreneurs Ireland Impact Award Winner’ is now affixed below professional rugby player, multi-platinum artist, bestselling author and whatever else you’re having. Bressie’s mental health initiative A Lust For Life has been recognised for its work in the field – and its founder is understandably chuffed.

“When it comes to social entrepreneurship, it’s the pinnacle of what you’re trying to do,” Bressie explains. “You go through a serious process in applying, from governance and legalities to social impact and sustainability. It makes Dragon’s Den look like a laugh. If we’re honest, we thought we were being way too ambitious in applying – we’re not even 12 months old – but we said we’d have a go, and if nothing else we’d learn more about ourselves and what we’re doing.”

Most organisations applying for the award have been on the go for five or six years, so being given the nod after just one amounts to a ringing endorsement. That said, in the beginning they only barely knew what they were doing.

“We were all over the place,” Bressie chuckles. “When we started, it was as a blog; when we started the website, it was to normalise the conversation about mental health. But we quickly realised that we didn’t have the resources to cater for what’s happening, and the demand that’s now coming. We became an advocacy group, and the first two campaigns we did – I Am A Reason and Anyone’s Brother – had quite a dramatic impact, even at policy-influencing level. We realised then that we have a job here: to magnify people’s stories, to help them get heard, and to focus on how we can drive some sort of systemic change.”

That calls for an amount of government lobbying – although Big Pharma they ain’t.

“One great way to lobby in Ireland, we’ve noticed, is through the public. We’re getting incredibly socially conscious here, and making demands when politicians call to the door – asking, ‘Why does my child have to wait two years to see a counsellor in my area?’ or ‘Why are there no services for local young people?’ – can be hugely effective.”

They’ve also successfully used events to raise awareness of issues surrounding mental health in this country: most recently, under cover of darkness in Cork Airport, a 5k run, held in the middle of the night, saw close to 2,000 people pulling on their trainers and pounding the, er, runway.

“That was crazy,” Bressie laughs. “Half of Europe is on lockdown because of terrorism, and there’s 2,000 people running around the fucking runway in Cork! For those 5k runs, we’re trying not to make it about running, or exercise, but rather about solidarity and building a community. We’re trying to take the competitive stuff out of it, which is harder than it sounds – a load of lads turn up aiming to set a new personal best, and you can’t stop that.”

The past year has also seen Bressie and his colleagues at A.L.F.L. – Derry McVeigh, Susan Quirke, Pritesh Symonds-Patel and Hugh Cafferky – amassing the sort of expertise required to affect real change.

“There was a need for a wealth of knowledge that we didn’t have enough of,” he reflects. “We had to go and seek it, and sit down with people and absorb it like sponges. I don’t have a business brain. I don’t think like that. You have to have your structures, your board and advisors, who can figure out how we honour our vision – and that’s something I might never understand myself, but we have people there who do get it! Then again, I suppose they may not understand what I’m doing.”

There’s been the odd controversy along the way.

“We have made mistakes,” Bressie says, “and I’d admit it every time. But what are our options? To say and do nothing for fear of going down the wrong road? A few months ago I tweeted a picture of an empty Dáil during statements on mental health, and it got huge reaction – including people telling me that I was wrong, and being naive. It was explained to me, and I thought, ‘OK, in some ways you’re right’. I didn’t understand how the Dáil works – I don’t give a shit! (smiles) – and I’d be the first to say when I’m not on the money. But in other ways, the point still stood; it was symbolic of how the government has treated mental health over decades.”

And while he sees reasons to be “cautiously optimistic” about the new Minister for Health, Simon Harris, there is very little tangible sign of progress. “A Vision For Change, the report on mental health policy in Ireland, was written about 10 years ago, and it’s brilliantly progressive – but none of it was implemented. We watched Sinn Féin put forward a motion on 24/7 Crisis Management Centres last week, and it was shot down. 10 years on, why are we even fucking talking about it? Politics is at play here, rather than a concern for humanity.”

Change, though, may be on the horizon.

“One of the first things that Minister for Mental Health, Helen McEntee, did was set up a youth task force. I’m not on it, by the way; everyone thinks I am, but I’m just chairing a reference group. That’s a positive step. Now, there’s people saying: ‘Ah there’s loads of task groups, they never do anything’. But my attitude is: ‘if they do nothing, then we can be cynical and roar at them, but let’s at least try’.

“It’s not going to change overnight,” he adds. “The education system is a good example. I think our system is great, with loads of fantastic teachers, but it has to be braver. A lot of schools don’t even have counsellors, and that’s just not good enough. It’s not just about the money, either. The reality is that most clinical psychologists or doctors struggle to operate in a system where they have to tell a 14-year-old that there’s an 18 month waiting list before they can be seen. I wouldn’t work in that system. I couldn’t.”

The SEI Impact Award, worth €100,000 over two years, will put A Lust For Life in a better position to fight for positive change.

It’s not just the financial support,” he observes. “Only one person on our books is getting paid, and any fundraising goes right back into sustaining what we’re doing. It’s taken a lot of personal investment, and a lot of time too – but there hasn’t been a single second in the past year when any of us have questioned whether this is the right thing to do.”