Mental health problems don’t discriminate. Rich or poor, black or white, young or old, everybody is vulnerable at any stage of their lives to being affected by mental health issues. Very few of us escape its grip entirely. For years, I have heard about how we are constantly “breaking down the stigma” associated with mental health. As someone who has battled with mental health issues all my life, I am optimistic about that. But I would go further. I would like to think that as a society, we have moved past stigma. The words that resonate with me the most are “understanding” and “irrationality.”

Understanding, in that we need to learn more about how we deal with our own mental health issues; but also about how we deal with others who experience it. Sometimes even the simplest approach, like becoming a better listener, is enough to change someone else’s life for the better. When I say “irrational”, what I mean is that mental health problems often do not make sense, especially in the way people think they should. People who are in such a dark place that they feel there is no longer hope are often the very people we least expect to be suffering. Sadly, we all probably know of someone who has taken his or her own life. In fact, as a man in his fifties, I have lost more friends through suicide than I have through cancer or heart failure. In many of those cases, there seems to be no rational explanation, no answers to cling to.

“Didn’t they have the ideal life?” people ask. “The fancy house? The loving wife? The great children?” Maybe, but tragically these things didn’t save those lives. As a young man, I grew up suffering severe anxiety. It was so bad, it often manifested in panic attacks where I felt I was dying. Before I knew better, I lived with shame and guilt. Guilt that, in most people’s eyes, I had a good life, so what did I have to complain about? And shame that I had all these invisible worries, when other people had real ones. I was always told to “suck it up… just get on with it, get over it, enjoy life, be grateful.” But it was never as simple as that. I grew up in the most macho of worlds, a young man from a rural farming background, aspiring to be a tough, uncompromising All Black rugby player. I felt less of a man if I sought help; shame that I was not a real man. If I was brave enough to seek help, it was always aligned to my physical self: go for a run, go to the gym. As a consequence, I spent years masking my problems with humour. The tears of a clown is the way I described my inner self. I know now that silence is not my strength, it is my weakness. The archetype of the strong, silent male has been misleading and damaging.

HIDDEN DEEP DOWN

Men in my native country and in Ireland are dying because of an inability to open up and share. We have stresses every day, in work and at home, yet men are expected to not show emotion. It’s the John Wayne syndrome. Men need to be better friends, to take care of each other more. Women do it well; they meet for coffee or form clubs, they talk and share. As a result, they deal with their mental health issues more proactively. In my own battle, I have had to assemble my set of tools – strategies that I can use when I have panic attacks. I know the triggers; but I also know that this too will pass.

I have felt shame for too long, and I know that “I can change the in to change the out”. Maybe my weakness has become my strength. I have just finished a qualification as a councillor and a psychotherapist. I have found a purpose in helping others. As a media personality, I am often asked to speak around the country on why it so important to look after our mental health. Hopefully if I touch one lost soul in the room, and they are brave enough to seek help, then I have achieved something. I don’t want others to go through what I experienced. I want them to know that there is help available for those in darkest despair; and that there is always a reason to hang on. We can interrupt the process with a kind word to a stranger, a helping hand, a smile – these things can all be enough to give someone hope.

We cannot see the scars of mental health like we can see a cast or a crutch, but they are there, hidden deep down. Use your mental gym as much as you do your physical one. Encourage hope and positivity, give back, have empathy, and be grateful for the smallest things that may be gone tomorrow. I know that I will have my down days, or days when I think my panic won’t subside,. But I also know that I will get through it. I may need help and love and understanding, but I won’t let it define me. All I really want is for people to be happy in their own skin. Seriously, that is all I want. Stigma around mental health is eroding every day. I would like to think we have a greater understanding now – and that greater understanding is the key to a better place for all of us mentally. “It’s okay not to be ok sometimes, but it’s no longer okay not to seek help.”

#NowWereTalking

Click on the link below to see how you can get tickets for our upcoming Hot Press Mental Health Town Hall Gathering

http://extra.hotpress.com/lyonstea/