It's Okay To Be Not Okay

Read this sentence to yourself a couple of times..

It's okay to be not okay.

I'm not blazing any trails here, but this is a powerful notion and I believe it cannot be understated. So many of us, whether we think or talk openly about it much, our touched in some way by mental health issues. Even if your life isn't directly marred by mental illness, you probably know at least some one who suffers. Telling yourself, or them, that it really is okay to be not okay is a statement of acceptance, humility, understanding and empathy that can make a real difference.

Those of us who have a mental health diagnosis are really a fortunate few in some ways. So many more people go under the radar. Many are stuck in complete denial. Others are aware of their issues but refuse to deal with them, really just another form of denial. Some get misdiagnosed, and often receive the wrong treatment. There's another group who really try to get help, but come up against the massive difficulties involved in dealing with medical professionals who fail them in a system which is broken.

Depending on how much you expose yourself to it, mainstream media has an awful lot to answer for when it comes to attitudes towards health in general, not just mental health. A picture of perfect physical fitness, vitality and happiness is pervasively portrayed in celebrity culture, popular music videos, advertising and lifestyle programs which can lead people to believe that it really isn't okay to be not okay. Society generally seems to mirror this façade.

Even outside the realms of mental health, it can be extremely liberating to be told that it really is okay not be not okay. It's okay to be wrong about things, and we need to realise that often the best way to learn is to be wrong. It's okay to react badly to something, as long as we reflect on our reactions accordingly. It's okay not to be the smartest, quickest, best, most knowledgeable or strongest. If we all gave each other the benefit of the doubt more, cut each other more slack and generally stopped being so judgemental, the world would be a better place.

I'm as guilty as the next person of being judgemental sometimes. I freely admit it, but I'm trying really hard to not be so quick to judge. Sure, there are some real arseholes out there - psychopaths, sociopaths, narcissists, racists, xenophobes, sexists, homophobes, thieves, liars, cheaters and all manner of other assorted human detritus - but in my experience these oxygen thieves only represent a small minority of people. We need to judge less and try to understand more. Most people are inherently good at heart, and I refuse to believe otherwise.

Instead of trying to pretend that everyone should be happy all the time, like that is a normal state of being, let's remind ourselves that being human means experiencing a whole range of emotions, from the darkest lows to the highest highs, at any given time. Just because you're feeling unhappy it doesn't mean you're mentally ill, any more than it means you're completely content in life just because you're feeling happy. Welcome to the human condition!

It's never okay to judge some one as defective or discriminate against them in any way simply because they don't fit into some manufactured and totally distorted view of how they should be. So next time you see anything like that going on, or find yourself in that kind of situation, or even if you simply find you are questioning how you're feeling and not getting any answers, remember the mantra..

It's okay to be not okay.

Copyright ©2018 Richard C. Greenlow. All rights reserved.

In Crisis

So here she finds herself once again..

Lost in confusion, grief, anger and sadness, with the overwhelming feeling that nobody actually ever really seems to care enough about her to make sure she's alright.

It really shouldn't have to take such a crisis for her pain to be acknowledged. It really shouldn't be like this at all. She's thinking that if only things had been different, or she had expressed herself better, or if she wasn't so closed-off, or if she'd been helped at those key times in the past when she did reach out, if she'd ever had even five minutes to think about how she was feeling, none of this would be happening to her now.

She's hiding in the corner of the room, in the dark, surrounded by the remnants of all her dreams and hopes, crushed by the weight of circumstance and the echoing memory of a few wrong words spoken at just the wrong time, her soul screaming as her body shudders and sobs, wracked with panic and fear, breaking into pieces on the floor. She's bleeding tears which sting her face and offer absolutely no relief from the trauma of emotions tied up inside her.

Establishing how it came to this isn't really necessary or particularly helpful, any more than applying temporary sticking plaster solutions to these wounds will help. In fact, long term, all that kind of approach has ever done is extend and entrench her suffering. There's no quick fix solutions, no short-termist treatment plan and no standardised, established, 'tried and tested' methodology that can be applied to her condition.

What she needs is understanding. She needs to be heard and to feel listened to, reassured that she's not crazy to be feeling so overwrought, told that it is her life story that has led her to where she is, not some failing within her personality or some psychiatric condition at play. She needs to have her life's pains acknowledged, her struggle against the shit in her life validated, and the issues that have led her to feel she has unsuccessfully dealt with life's problems analysed and assessed and worked through, not criticised or demeaned and brushed off, only to be swept back under the carpet to simply fester.

She needs unconditional positive regard. She needs a stranger, an outsider, one who knows much of the tools and techniques of emotional problem-solving, with a proven track record in breaking down the psychological barriers and walls which we all create in our minds, one armed with a weighty toolbox of the things which will help loosen the tightly-coiled springs of her thinking, help her expand her viewpoint and challenge her mindset on that which ails her, and assist her in the process of identifying and deconstructing the complex feelings and neuroses which have led her to this dark place in her life.

She needs help, and now. She needs the right kind of help, right now. She needs it urgently and regularly and intensively in order to prevent this crisis becoming a full-blown disaster, with all the associated life-changing consequences that that will have on her and her family. She is in dire, urgent, acute medical need of help. And yet, despite this '999 emergency', the flashing blue light first-response immediacy of her need, despite the potentially disastrous long term implications of not getting immediate treatment, despite all of that - she's not going to get anything like the help she needs..

No doctor is coming out to visit her when she collapses because she just can't cope. No team of nurses is on hand to care for her basic needs and look after her basic human rights whilst she does the hard work of addressing her state of mind. No psychiatrist is available to administer temporary pharmaceutical relief, if and when required, just to smooth the pains of any particular moment, or to help her sleep, or to help her get past these times of overwhelming emotional overload. No psychologist is going to offer her an assessment and provide her with a treatment path which can facilitate her growth beyond this awful impasse, tackle her issues with pain and problems in her life, and enable her to move on past this crippling state of emotional, psychological and spiritual paralysis.

None of this is going to happen. There will be half-arsed pathetic attempts by G.P's at assessing her, if and when she presents with anxiety, depresson etc. There will be offers of support, in the form of signposting to organisations which 'can help you deal with things'. There will be vague, ineffective and basically pointless scratching around by the medical profession to show that there's been some sort of attempt made at 'treating her condition'. There will be nothing she actually really needs offered, and either no reason given for this at all, or some matter-of-fact acknowledgement that unfortunately 'this is all we can do given the limitations of the healthcare system we work under'. Budget cuts, under-funding, lack of resources, shortage of trained staff, blah, blah, blah..

The most bitter pill to swallow in all this is that the help she needs right now - that 'right kind of help', from the right kind of therapist, is actually readily available within just walking distances of our home. Just in our small local town alone, there are at least half a dozen mental health professionals armed with all the knowledge and ability to help her right away, in whatever way she needs. Therapists with a proven track-record in addressing the kind of issues she is facing, and helping with just the kind of problems that she faces right now. They are right there, available as and when required, basically all the time. Problem solved, right?

Wrong.

They are private medical professionals. The UK healthcare system does not, never has and never will offer to provide this sort of help for people with mental health and emotional well-being problems. Regardless of its effectiveness, as proven by decades of successfully treated patients, tailored psychological treatment and bespoke emotional support remains strictly in the domain of private healthcare. It basically costs a fortune. She would need at least one hourly session a week, for as long as is necessary to help her get to the root of her problems and for an effective treatment plan to be devised and put into action. We're invariably talking about paying £50 an hour, whichever therapist is chosen.

And sadly, desperately fucking horribly sadly, our family budget can't even stretch beyond about £5.

Tell me, tell her - tell us .. what the fuck are we supposed to do now?



Copyright ©2018 Richard C. Greenlow. All rights reserved.

Onward Ever

Back in May this year I wrote of my battle against the system to get treatment for high-functioning anxiety disorder. In August I wrote another piece further eluding to the struggle. Well today, over four months after initial referral for psychological services, I finally have an appointment with a consultant. The letter states that there will be a further wait following the consult before therapy/treatment begins (of course) but I nervously look forward to the meeting. Nervously and anxiously..

I recently acquired a copy of my entire medical file from my G.P. The nature of the journey into my long and complex history of mental ill-health warranted getting as full a picture as I could of each and every intervention, or lack thereof, by the medical professionals charged with my care over the years. It was a cathartic experience, to say the least. Particularly shocking was my discovery that I was all but diagnosed with bipolar disorder 10 years prior to my actual diagnosis. This was simply never followed up on, and effectively ignored, but worst of all I was never even told about the existence of the extensive psychiatric report. You can imagine my dismay. I can't say it hasn't further eroded my faith in the medical profession.

Out of disappointment and disillusionment with the system does, however, come something very positive. I have never felt more empowered in dealing with my mental health. I have gone from pillar to post trying to get answers over the years. From a humble and fairly aimless starting point in my teens, as my experience has widened and my knowledge has grown, I have become an expert patient. Gone are the days when I will allow anybody, be they a top consultant, counsellor, G.P. or surgery receptionist, to act on decisions regarding my care with anything less than an absolutely true and accurate picture of the nature of my mental health. Put simply, I know far better than them what it is to survive mental illness, and try to thrive in spite of it.

Sadly though, my experience of the creaks and cracks in the system have taught me that as the years go by it gets harder and harder to get treatment at all, let alone the right treatment. To some extent I can forgive medical professionals for not giving me a full picture, back when I was a teenager. My problems were so huge, the road so long and my mental health so fragile that I can imagine a scenario in which it was felt not to be in my best interests to 'lay it all bare' so to speak. I can even understand how it came about that symptomatic treatment was deemed better than addressing the root of my problems. Papering over the cracks may well have seemed like the easiest option in most of those allotted 10-minute G.P. consultations.

What I cannot accept though is the evidence that lies before me, in the pages of notes I have sifted through - that at almost every single stage of my mental ill-health, over the course of decades, those charged with my care - the people to whom I summoned up the courage to go to for help, who's very job it is to do their best to help make me better, failed me royally. One could be forgiven for thinking that their lack of care was systematic and intentional. I don't think that, but only because I've had so many years of experience at trying to get better in a system that is fundamentally mismanaged, underfunded, under-resourced and ultimately falling apart at the seams. Even that system is not truly at fault. It is those charged with the care and governance of the NHS itself who are really responsible for its sad decline..

There were occasional exceptions to the shower of fools involved in my case over the years. I recall a kindly registrar at an Accident & Emergency department who told me, off the record, that I might not have the full picture as to long term treatment options for the issues which had led me to the particular crisis that had brought me there that day. I fondly remember an amazing CPN (Community Psychiatric Nurse) who counselled me when I was in my early 20's, teaching me mindfulness techniques and guiding me in the direction of some of the best self-help books and psychology literature I have ever read.

I also remember a dedicated patient advocate who saved me from a particularly horrible hospital experience by informing me of my rights and supporting me in exercising them, when I was in a state of panic and being virtually held against my will. Most recently, I am thankful for a very patient CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) counsellor, who tried his best to keep working with me despite getting tied up by the limitations and inflexibility of the system. These wonderful few embodied everything it means to be a true medical professional. They went above and beyond the call of duty. At times they truly extended themselves for the benefit of my growth. The leaps and bounds I made in getting better because of the care and support they gave me cuts through the lost years of medical impotence and downright lack of care I experienced like sun rays through the murkiest fog.

My personal struggle has led me to learning about the troubles of others in this failing mental healthcare system. Incredibly, it would seem that I have actually been relatively fortunate. I have relatives and friends who have found it even harder than I to access effective treatment for a range of mental health issues. I have met plenty of people who have been in the system longer than me, with far more complex and difficult conditions, who struggle to get even basic outreach or crisis response. For those unfortunate enough to have very little or no support outside of the system, the tendency towards self-medication with all the inherent dangers of illicit drug use is very high. Rates of self-harm and suicide inevitably rise alongside cuts to mental healthcare provision. The sadness of this totally avoidable set of circumstances is overwhelming.

When I write about this topic I almost feel like a busker, banging an old drum under some bridge whilst people walk around and past. Maybe banging on about this sad state of affairs is old news and perhaps people are oblivious, but I can't stop. Too many are being failed because of the insane ideology and badly-disguised greed of a bunch of morally bankrupt politicians. Who really knows the true scale of just how many people's lives could be made so much better if mental healthcare provision was given parity with that of physical health? What kind of legacy is being left for our children and subsequent generations, if the current system is allowed to continue sliding into collapse and backdoor privatisation?

Whatever the future holds for us, brave warriors of mental health must continue to fight for the treatment they need. I shall be doing just that, and while I'm doing it I will gladly help others to fight too. Nothing is more important than ensuring we have the best chance at treating mental illness effectively, so that we can use all we learn to raise a generation of children who's emotional well being is actually improving. Perhaps together we can raise awareness of the terrible price to be paid if we don't completely rethink mental healthcare provision in the UK, and halt the terminal decline in our collective mental health.

Copyright ©2018 Richard C. Greenlow. All rights reserved.

Reach Out

Something huge can happen to a person when they suffer any kind of long term mental, emotional or psychological distress. Over time, through the stages of acceptance of their condition, the seeking of treatment, the course of their therapy and their path to recovery, a person can become adept at identifying and understanding the mental, emotional and psychological troubles of others. It's like a massive and unexpected side-effect of dealing with the underlying illness, and what's more, it is extraordinarily empowering..

So it is that an adult victim of childhood abuse, when faced with dealing with the long and difficult journey through their traumatic past, begins to understand the nature of narcissism and what psychologists refer to as 'the sins of the father' - that abusive parents are often the victims of childhood abuse themselves. But simultaneously, these people often also start noticing a myriad of other far more subtle and less overt ways in which certain parental behaviours can contribute to neuroses and emotional difficulties in all our adult lives. They become not only mentally healthier, but capable of being much better people and better parents themselves.

Recovering alcoholics and drug addicts go through a process which helps them to identify the causes of their addiction, in order to put new and healthier coping strategies into place and to prevent relapse. At the same time, they often start to experience a much deeper empathy with the pain of other people, and to see how others are using unhealthy ways of coping with their difficulties. They can truly become masters at spotting the warning signs of addiction and destructive behaviours in people, such is the fine-tuning that happens to their perception of the psychological mechanisms at play.

For those who suffer from clinical depression, bipolar disorder and other afflictions which  are primarily disorders of mood regulation, the path to a healthier life lies in understanding the complexities of their particular mood patterns and planning for all eventualities, wherever possible. Sometimes all that can be managed is an acceptance that terribly difficult moods will happen, but even that is a step up from feeling enslaved by their condition. As the person becomes adept at understanding and managing their illness they can find themselves arriving at a point where they have a whole box of tools and techniques to manage mood issues, and it is soon realised that this toolbox is useful to just about anyone who wants to manage their emotions better and develop a healthier mindset.

People nearly always seek treatment for mental health issues and go into therapy to help themselves but rarely, if ever, realise that they are likely to come out the other side far more interested in and empathetic to the pain and problems of others. Seeking psychiatric treatment is a necessarily selfish action. It's starts off all self, self, self - but very soon in the course of treatment it usually becomes obvious to a person that it is how their behaviour affects others and their interactions with others that causes them the most pain. The work they do to change how they think of themselves develops into a journey of changing their behaviour towards other people. They start to think more positively, act more genuinely and consider others more thoughtfully. It's a win win.

When the hard work of therapy is over, the journey continues onward. The newly-empowered mentally healthy individual has a shiny armoury of weapons to fight negativity in themselves, and a whole new level of awareness of how these weapons can be useful to others in their personal struggles. Often, a deep desire to share the newfound knowledge is present, requiring the practising of patience and respect for other people's stages of development in life. This new state of being is what writers of all sorts of self-help, psychology and spirituality themed books refer to as growth - whether they label it 'personal', 'emotional', 'spiritual' or a combination of such - it is literally the evolving of the psyche to a higher state or 'stage of awareness'.

The journey is all about growing and changing and evolving to be better than we were before. It is always about progressing on the path to further enlightenment but never about being better than anyone else. One can falter and slip and regress, and require further work and even more therapy at any time, just as one can advance several strides in short succession. The journey lasts a lifetime. It is like a calling. It can feel like a faith system, maybe even a religion, and perhaps in a way it is..

Whatever it is, I'm well and truly on board.



Copyright ©2018 Richard C. Greenlow. All rights reserved.

Perseverance

He opens his eyes in the half-light, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. As he spends his first few waking moments getting accustomed to the omnipresent adrenaline in his chest, the gulls outside cry their morning chorus like a lamentation. A cold breeze which belies the season siphons through the room, raising the hairs on his arms and heightening his senses..

In the occasional comfort of his head he believes he has things pretty much figured out - the traumas and failings of the past that have led him to this state of perpetual high anxiety, the tools and techniques and therapies that will be his deliverance from the weight of the pain that seeks to stop him from growing, the nature of the keys to the locks on his life. He is reaching for those keys, grasping desperately, yet still his flailing hands are met with cold walls of silence, as the waiting continues and the creeping intensity of his angst bubbles up from within.

The cold blue flames of his impotent rage at the injustice of it all feed back into his consciousness like a self-fulfilling prophecy. He shakes off the feelings of dread and fear that always accompany the start of a new day as best he can, quietly assessing his mood and summoning up all the reserves of willpower he can muster. He knows he must paint on his brave face, his warpaint, if he is to win the battle today. He hopes to find strength and some comfort in his resolve, but the batteries are low..

There's no time for self-pitying contemplation of the unfairness of the circumstances that led to his predicament. There's no space for the lost little boy who always buried his head in the sand, for that little boy drowned when the tide came in. Things change and the world moves on, and that is exactly what he knows he must do if he is to thrive. He's been just surviving all his life and reached the point where survival, in and of itself, is simply not enough to sustain him. He wants to thrive. He needs to thrive. And he certainly feels he has earned the right to thrive.

He is craving the next stage of his life, crying out for freedom from the spirit-crushing pain of bad memories and buried trauma. Every day the claws of self-doubt and guilt scratch at his soul like an insidious waking nightmare. He is tired of the monster, tired of having to deal with the fight, flight or freeze instinct that serves absolutely no purpose, tired of moments of anger that pass him by as if he were a bystander watching in slow-motion, tired of the self-doubt and recrimination complex. Most of all, he is just so tired of feeling completely emotionally exhausted.

In the early hours of each day he finds solace. There is peace and quiet, space to breathe. He grits his teeth, flexes his muscles and steals himself for another day. There will be good, wholesome, healthy, happy moments to come. He will find joy in simple things. He will share love and laughter with his nearest and dearest. Hopefully, these moments will outweigh the burden of his pain today. He will remind himself there is much suffering out there in the world, many who have far worse to deal with, and also that the promise of a life in which he can truly thrive is real and close.

After all, he didn't come this far and do all this work to give up now.

"Permanence, perseverance and persistence in spite of all obstacles, discouragements, and impossibilities: It is this, that in all things distinguishes the strong soul from the weak." - Thomas Carlyle



Copyright ©2018 Richard C. Greenlow. All rights reserved.

No Pain, No Gain

“Life is difficult. This is a great truth, one of the greatest truths. It is a great truth because once we truly see this truth, we transcend it. Once we truly know that life is difficult - once we truly understand and accept it - then life is no longer difficult. Because once it is accepted, the fact that life is difficult no longer matters.”
― M. Scott Peck

We live in a pain-avoiding culture, one that encourages quick-fix solutions to all kinds of discomfort, and fosters the idea that the most complex problems in life like personal growth and dealing with mental illness can be solved with shortcuts and simple remedies. No wonder then that we face epidemic levels of mental ill-health, and that we are not evolving as a society anywhere near our potential. We grow up in a media and technology bubble that fails to reflect the true importance and inherent value in coping and dealing with necessary and legitimate suffering in life. Instead we are brainwashed into believing that all pain is bad, and that an instant remedy is always available. No wonder we are in such a mess..

“The difficulty we have in accepting responsibility for our behaviour lies in the desire to avoid the pain of the consequences of that behaviour.”
― M. Scott Peck

The fundamental lesson we have to learn about the pain and difficulty in life is that it can be split into two kinds - legitimate, necessary suffering and unnecessary suffering. So things like dealing with change, grief and loss, physical ill-health, learning from mistakes - these are examples of legitimate, necessary suffering in life. We all have to not just endure and cope with these things but learn from them and use them to grow as a person. Then there are examples of unnecessary suffering - holding on to the past, not recognising inherent lessons in life's problems, or recognising lessons but shunning the work of learning, clinging to unhealthy coping mechanisms, allowing others to control or dictate our path in life - these are the sort of things we all do which stop us truly learning and growing in life. Continued unnecessary suffering and the avoidance of legitimate pain in our lives is at the root of most mental ill-health.

“The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.”
― M. Scott Peck

Now we get to the nub of the matter. Every time we fail to make the distinction between necessary and unnecessary pain, and seek to avoid it regardless, we stunt our personal growth. All we are really doing is choosing short term gain for long term pain. In our desire to avoid suffering we throw out the baby with the bathwater. It is not all our fault. The forces that influence us, and society as a whole, emphasise and amplify the falsehood that avoidance of pain, shortcuts and temporary remedies will work, and they do it from a very young age in many ways, from the subtle to the blatant. We are not educated to deal effectively with sadness, loss, grief etc. any more than we are taught to recognise the often subtle difference between pain and discomfort that is necessary to grow in life, and that which is unnecessary and unhealthy. It is left up to us to disentangle our mindsets and reinvent our whole way of thinking to deal effectively with, and even welcome, the pain in life.

“Abandon the urge to simplify everything, to look for formulas and easy answers, and begin to think multidimensionally, to glory in the mystery and paradoxes of life, not to be dismayed by the multitude of causes and consequences that are inherent in each experience -- to appreciate the fact that life is complex.”
― M. Scott Peck

Thinking in more complex, more complete terms doesn't come easily at all when you have spent your life following the example of our society and culture and oversimplifying everything. There are no quick fixes if you want to avoid illegitimate suffering and the descent into mental ill-health, and rarely are there any snappy taglines that will encompass the lessons you need to learn in life. It will be hard work. It will be difficult and it will hurt. It will be very uncomfortable and challenging. But I can promise you friends, once you get on this path the rewards come thick and fast. Dawning realisations, the opening of formerly closed parts of your mind, whole new ways of looking at your past and present situation, all will happen once you discard the old mindset of pain avoidance. Best of all, as you get into this new, more healthy, more truthful way of thinking about life, it becomes less difficult to do the work of change, and the massive benefits and rewards get bigger and better.

“It is in the whole process of meeting and solving problems that life has meaning. Problems are the cutting edge that distinguishes between success and failure. Problems call forth our courage and our wisdom; indeed, they create our courage and our wisdom. It is only because of problems that we grow mentally and spiritually. It is through the pain of confronting and resolving problems that we learn.”
― M. Scott Peck

Take it from someone who knows what a life of pain avoidance of almost every conceivable kind can do to you, it is always worth making the change and it is never too late to start. I was fortunate enough to find shining lights in my darkest moments, and despite years of self-sabotage, self-harm, self-medication and all that comes with avoiding the legitimate and necessary pain of change and growth, I have finally got to the point where I am growing more than I am regressing, learning more than I am failing to learn, and embracing the discomforts and challenges of personal, emotional, some may say spiritual growth with determination and gratitude.

“It is only because of problems that we grow mentally and spiritually.”
― M. Scott Peck

It took me 20 years to get to this point. Don't let it take you that long! But, however long it takes, persevere to the last - the rewards are manifold, magical and life-changing. Whether you are struggling with multiple issues in life, suffering with mental illness, or just feeling unsatisfied and unfulfilled, learning to accept and deal with pain and avoid unnecessary suffering in life is the key to growing to be a better person, for you and for everyone else.

“All my life I used to wonder what I would become when I grew up. Then, about seven years ago, I realised that I was never going to grow up--that growing is an ever ongoing process.”
― M. Scott Peck


N.B. All the quotations used in this piece are courtesy of the amazing book by M. Scott Peck MD, entitled The Road Less Travelled: A New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values, and Spiritual Growth. Highly recommended reading!


Copyright ©2018 Richard C. Greenlow. All rights reserved.

Bad Days

You know what? Sometimes you have to allow yourself to declare a day as bad, and move on. Yesterday was a bad day. I was emotionally exhausted. I felt overly tired, and despite it being Sunday and having lots of extra rest, nothing made me feel less tired. In fact, the more rest I got the more tired I felt. And the more grumpy, bad tempered, low, agitated and negative I got too. Thing is, life doesn't just stop when you feel bad. No matter how much you may sometimes wish the world would stop turning for a day, let you off for a while, it simply doesn't. Life goes on..

Important caveat: this is absolutely not a pity parade. I am not looking for sympathy, or trying to elevate my personal suffering above that of any one else. I am all too aware of my good fortune and grateful for my blessings in life. Despite my shortcomings, when it comes to mental health I am better off than many people who I have met or know of through others, and I would never claim to be hard done by.

Yesterday was a blue Sunday for me. It began in the usual way, progressed in a predictable manner and should have been enjoyable, restful and relaxing. Instead, it was increasingly uncomfortable, as a growing unease built in my mind. As the hours went by the pent up frustration of knowing I needed rest but the act of resting bringing me no relent gradually increased my general irritability. This in turn cultivated the twin troubles of guilt at being bad tempered with my family and a sense of helplessness at feeling unable to do anything to change the situation.

Imagine a dream where you have all good things laid out before you, good people around you and nothing to fear or feel bad about, yet every time you reach out to grasp something good it dissolves, or disappears, or moves just out of your reach, and whenever you open your mouth to speak to people the wrong thing comes out and you offend, hurt or insult them and they turn away from you. That is exactly what these days feel like, only I cannot wake up and feel the relief that it was just a dream.

The fear in all this comes from knowing that despite the breadth and depth of my knowledge of bipolar disorder, depression and anxiety, the vast array of tools and techniques I have learned to cope with these afflictions, the certain knowledge that I am doing all I can to keep on top of it all, the positive nature of my prognosis, the fact that I can learn new ways to deal with everything any time I want to and the continuing surety of support from those around me, there will still be times when I just feel like nothing is good, and negativity will dominate. Such is the nature of the underlying condition, and it absolutely sucks.

Yesterday was just not fair. It was not fair that I woke up knowing right away that a whole day would be spent feeling basically inhuman, and that the feeling would be impossible to get away from despite all the hope and positivity in the world. It was not fair that my family had to put up with my moods, my negativity, my short-tempered verbal tirades and my irritability. It wasn't fair that what should have been a lovely restful family day was more an exercise in endurance. It wasn't fair that a potentially lovely Sunday was ruined by the old chestnut of my mental illness. It wasn't fair that I ended the day doing all I could to drown out the voice inside my head telling me how much of an arsehole I am, and how I don't deserve to have this life. It wasn't fair at all.

Today, however, is a whole new day..

I have awoken and risen feeling like myself again - positive, content, self-assured and ready for the new week. There is a lingering feeling of sadness, a sense of loss that yesterday was not what it should have been, and an orange flag sticking up in my mind that indicates I should spend some time analysing how I dealt with it all to try to draw lessons from it. Ever eager to learn anything I can from days like yesterday, I shall extract anything that may help me do my next blue day better. It might not be much, but it is something. After all, turning negatives into positives is how I cope best with my bipolar life.

When all is said and done, the unfairness of my situation is par for the course. Life is unfair! It is my duty and responsibility to continue to learn and deal with bipolar disorder, and depression and anxiety, so that I can do the good work of growing and changing with life, and be a better husband, father, friend and human being. The world doesn't need any more excuses, it needs shining lights. If I can be a light that shines into the darkness of mental ill-health, if I can show those who are lost a way out of the quagmire, if I can be of any help to those who feel like giving up on life, then somehow it makes my blue days acceptable. Most of all, if by shining my light out into the world I increase the positivity that comes back into my life, which I already know it will, then perhaps those blue days will be less blue, and less frequent.

I live in hope, because any other way just doesn't work.



Copyright ©2018 Richard C. Greenlow. All rights reserved.

It's Mental

Welcome to 21st century Britain, the 6th richest country on Earth, where the health service is free to all at the point of need..

Labour health minister Aneurin 'Nye' Bevan created the National Health Service on 5th July 1948, making last month the start of its 70th year of existence. Founded on socialist principles, who can deny the success of the British health service, which is still often cited as 'the envy of the world'.

Sadly, everything the NHS stands for has been eroded to the point of destruction, by successive governments of all shades, with systematic mismanagement, deliberate under-funding and creeping backdoor privatisation. Much more could be said here, but the scope of this piece will be intentionally apolitical wherever possible.

This is one man's experience of what can only be described as 'the desperate struggle to get treatment'..

Before I begin, may I point you to an earlier article I wrote regarding my journey on the good ship mental health. To briefly summarise, I have bipolar affective disorder and a history of depression and anxiety, controlled with mood stabilising medication. I have been stable and functional for the last few years. I am currently suffering from a high-functioning anxiety disorder which I have had for over 6 months. I take beta-blockers to help alleviate the symptoms. I have had cognitive behavioural therapy, which sadly failed to be suitable. I have also tried an anti-anxiety drug called buspirone but the side-effects made continuing treatment intolerable.

I have been referred by my G.P. to the local mental health services team. I initially saw the psychiatrist who agreed with me that the answer is not medication. He referred me for psychological services for some intensive therapy and told me there would be a wait of up to 2 weeks for an assessment. That was 3 months ago. Today my loving wife made another of our calls to the team for help, as my anxiety is not getting any better and I am becoming increasingly difficult to live with. The receptionist was patently rude and dismissive. She eventually offered a call back 'later in the day'. That is what passes for urgent care for a family in crisis now.

The thing is, unless you've been living under a rock for the last few years, you know the state of the NHS. You know the terrible policies of this government, and previous governments, going back many years, have brought the system to its knees. You know waiting lists are getting longer and longer. You know mental health is the poor cousin of physical health. You know that despite high profile campaigns, and bold statements by the prime minister and health secretary, that mental health provision is actually getting worse. You know getting treatment for mental ill-health in the UK is a postcode lottery. You know all the reasons and excuses, and the truths and the lies being told about the state of things - but none of that helps you get better.

The urgency of need in my case cannot be overstated. The anxiety disorder I have makes me agitated to the point of anger and aggression. Although never physical, I regularly find my extreme discomfort and agitation comes out as mood swings, bad temper and fits of rage. It must sometimes feel like emotional abuse, such can be the nature of the passive-aggressive bullshit I subject my wife and children to. A life of dealing with mental illness has taught me well, and I use every trick, tool and technique in the book to get through each day. I am constantly learning new things to help me. Despite all of this it feels like, overall, things are gradually getting worse..

Is it too much to ask that when you pick up the phone in a crisis there will be a reasonably quick response? If I had cancer, diabetes, asthma, a degenerative disease or any other physical condition and hit crisis point, even with the problems of the NHS, I could rightfully expect and receive the urgent and attentive medical care I obviously require. Instead I am literally left to rot, my family left to pick up the pieces. And, ultimately, I don't have an ounce of blame in my thoughts for the system. The blame lies squarely and solely with the damn government, which is just great - a further depressing thought to add to the mix.

This is what happens when you fail to adequately fund and resource the professionals who only want to treat their patients, and treat them well. This is what happens when the interests of big business and plutocrats are put ahead of patient care. This is what happens when good people vote for awful politicians with awful policies, and continue to vote for them even when it is obvious they are awful. This is what happens when amazing medical professionals are underpaid and undervalued and morale is on the floor. This is what happens when good management and essential reform are abandoned in favour of cuts and outsourcing. This is what happens..

I'll just keep waiting, holding things together with whatever reserves I can find, ever thankful for the loving support of my family, friends and work colleagues. My eventual therapy will no doubt be extended even further than anyone thought, to deal with the guilt and remorse complex I have developed at the unnecessary suffering I have put my family through whilst waiting to get treatment. I can see so clearly now how those who aren't fortunate enough to have much support end up getting so much worse, simply waiting to get the treatment they need - and how some just can't hold on at all..

One thing is certain. Nye Bevan isn't just turning in his grave - his ghost is haunting parliament and screaming at the bastards who got us to this point.

It should never have come to this.



Copyright ©2018 Richard C. Greenlow. All rights reserved.

A Day In The Life

It begins at dawn.

He rises with the light, the screeching and chattering of gulls on the rooftops and the banging and clattering of lorries unloading in the urban street below, an oddly suitable lament for his tired brain. Sleep was broken and restless, yet somehow just about satisfied the basic necessities of bodily rest. He makes tea, fires up the computer and starts to write..

He knows writing is good. He knows it is therapeutic. He knows he has a flare for it. It reminds him he's not completely useless. He reminds himself he's not actually useless at all, and that's just low self-esteem talking. He knows chronic self-doubt and self-loathing are old foes, always capable of resurfacing at any given moment. He writes with a constant scrutiny of self, ever ensuring he writes for the benefit of himself, other people and the wider world, in that order. He wants to share his experiences, his knowledge and his wisdom, such as it is, because he knows deep down that this is his purpose in life. He knows it is his lifeblood, and wonders how he has gone such long periods in the past without it..

As the distracting noise of street sweepers outside begin their regular morning run up and down the road, he almost wishes he had his own machines in his head that could sweep away the litter of yesterday's stresses and strains and fears and failings, leaving him fresh and clean for the day. Almost. But he knows that he must analyse these things, picking the litter to check for lessons to learn, before shaking off the dust and arising. He feels alone, but not lonely. He has come to value this early morning time, the relative quiet and the solitude before the world outside really wakes up, and the family surrounding him inside begin their day. A chance to reflect..

He knows about a good many things really. He knows about illness of the mind and spirit the most. He knows about being troubled as far back as memory will take him, about misspent youth and rebellion. He knows about misdiagnosis and toxic prescription medication. He knows of the desperation of reaching for help and finding none, or worse still, the wrong kind of help. He knows self-medication and the sickness that follows. He knows habituation and addiction, the highs and lows of substituting one drug for another, and the terrible price in wasted time and unlearnt lessons paid for such. He knows the depths of hell because he willingly dwelled there, and he shudders to recall a particular kind of self-imposed purgatory too. He knows self-harm and suicidal ideation. He knows what it means to want to end it all..

He knows an awful lot about doctors, psychiatrists, psychologists, diagnosis and the medical model. He knows of the fall, from grace to the pits of despair, that occurs when one realises one is a danger to oneself and others. He knows about rage and fury and hitting out at everyone and everything. He knows about intangibles and labels like extreme anxiety, panic, depression, psychosis, mood swings, bipolar, hallucinations, dissociation and depersonalisation. He knows about losing his sense of self and identity. He knows about secure psychiatric units and anti-psychotic medication and feeling like a zombie. He knows about stigma, and being judged and labelled, and of the narrow-minded blinkered attitudes out there in the world. He knows what it feels like to be doubted, criticised and reviled. Worst of all, he knows what it's like to be feared, and to fear oneself..

As the promise of another hot summer's day warms the room he finds himself wondering just how the hell he got to where he is now. He's had the thought many times in the past, but it always meant life had once again crashed all around him like a broken computer, and despair ruled. Now the feeling is of incredulity and amazement - at the strength, resilience, willpower, fortitude and sheer determination to survive that has got him through life so far. He realises the external factors that helped him get here, in no small part the support of family, friends and professionals alike, and he knows the biggest part of his success has been finding all the reserves of his own inner strength..

He knows power; of self-determination and exercising choice in treatment, of learning the knowledge and tools and techniques of mental health, of acceptance of others attitudes, shortcomings and feelings, of getting clean from a life of addiction and staying that way without faltering, of taking responsibility for every facet of oneself and rolling with it, of helping his loved ones and the wider world understand it all better, of being a living, breathing, thriving embodiment of what is is to survive mental illness and maintain mental health for life..

He knows love, and is surrounded by it. He knows that love really is all he needs. He knows where he's come from, where's he's at, and where he wants to go. He knows it won't be easy, that it isn't meant to be, and he welcomes that fact. He knows from here on in life's all about learning. He knows it always was, he just didn't realise it, or accept it, or go far enough into it. He knows the pieces of the puzzle that make him are complete at last, and that the world is his to carve a niche in whatever way he wants. He knows he has so many gifts in life, and that the greatest of these are the gifts of children, of a loving wife, of a supportive family, of genuine friendships with genuine people, and of knowing just how fortunate he is..

So the new day is begun. He smiles to himself, a slight gesture on the outside, but inwardly he is laughing the laugh of a man truly content. The day could bring joy, comfort, laughter, fun and excitement. It could bring discomfort, anxiety, stress and exhaustion. Most likely it will bring a mixture of all of these things. Regardless, it will be a good day..

The best of days.


Copyright ©2018 Richard C. Greenlow. All rights reserved.

Don't Panic

Imagine for a moment the most terrifying instance of panic you've ever experienced in your life..

Whatever caused you to go into panic mode, I expect you could describe to me a feeling like a dreadful suffocating helplessness, of being completely overwhelmed by a crippling sense of dread and anguish. I would further postulate that the psychological/emotional aspects of this panic were nothing in comparison to the physical sensations - sweating hot, adrenalin pumping, stomach retching, fists clenched, head pounding, ears ringing, trembling, shaking, unable to catch your breath as the rising crescendo of absolute terror gripped every fibre of your being. Perhaps you even experienced a state of hyper-reality, where everything around you seemed to go into slow motion, or conversely everything sped up. The world got very weird, very quickly. Maybe a few of you have even experienced hallucinations - saw or heard unreal things, experienced odd tastes or felt warped things touching your body, in your moment of pure panic?

I bet most all of us, to a greater or lesser degree, have had at least a moment where something happened - some event, be it an accident, receiving terrible news, a sudden shock - which triggered the cascade of emotions and physical sensations in the body that we call panic. Blind panic. No reasoning kicked in to steady our thinking, no logic or sound advice helped us feel better, we just got hit full in the face and instantly fell apart. Anxiety took over control of our senses, our thinking, our emotions, even perhaps our basic bodily functions. For a moment, we just lost it, and in that moment nothing and nobody could make us feel better..

Human beings have an innate ability to respond to stressful situations, or stressors as they are better known. Science calls this the 'fight or flight response'. It is also known as hyperarousal, or the acute stress response, and is a physiological reaction that occurs in response to a perceived harmful event, attack, or threat to survival. Essentially, the response prepares the body to either fight or flee the threat. It is an ancient part of us that has served humankind well in the past, especially when we lived in caves and had to sustain ourselves through the perils of attack from all sides by wildlife and other humans. It is coded into our DNA, and an unavoidable physical function of our body.

Psychology, in combination with biology and to some extent also social science, teaches us that our acute stress response can often lead us into trouble. Modern life has enabled humans to escape, and be insulated from, most of the threats to survival on a daily basis that the fight or flight response was useful for. There are just hardly ever instances in life these days where it is appropriate, useful or healthy to either run away or fight a particular 'perceived threat' - and these perceived threats can often be the result of faulty perception in the first place.

So, 'general anxiety', a feeling of unease and worry, can lead to panic - a sudden sensation of fear, which is so strong as to dominate or prevent reason and logical thinking, replacing it with overwhelming feelings of angst and frantic agitation consistent with an animalistic fight-or-flight reaction. Anxiety can be referred to as a normal part of life, but only if it has a quantifiable source, if the cause of a person's angst can be traced using logic and reason. If there are no causes, no logical reasons for the state of anxiety, and this state persists for days, weeks or months at a time, one can reasonably conclude that a person may well be suffering from a general anxiety disorder.

All this fine scientific talk, logic and reason is great. It all makes sense, and it helps us understand the basics of what is going on when somebody we know, perhaps someone we love, is suffering with anxiety issues. The problem is that when anxiety becomes panic, when the level of discomfort gets to be too much for someone to cope with, all reason and logic becomes irrelevant. That person is unable to deal with anything and everything, instantaneously. They cannot think straight, relate properly to others or cope effectively with life, and as the panic rises it is all they can do to simply function, to prevent themselves from being a danger to themselves or others, and to get through the terrible irrational fear that they are about to die. They walk a tightrope stretched over a row of jagged knives every moment of every day, and everyone around them is forced to walk on eggshells, and take extreme care not to bump into them for fear that their fragile glass bubbles will shatter and leave them bare.

The worst part of life for someone with an anxiety disorder is that they don't want it to affect others around them, which is compounded and made doubly difficult by the fact that once in the turmoil of an episode they are unable to explain what is happening, unable to avoid snapping and getting angry with others, and unable to control their emotions. So when they get through any given clash, argument, fight or moment of madness they then have to deal with terrible feelings of guilt and a lingering sense of remorse that they affected others with 'their shit'. This completes the cycle, of worry - anxiety - panic - anxiety - worry, a very vicious circle indeed. Long term, this cycle can lead to so much loss; of self-esteem, of status in life, of friends and family, of reputation, of drive and energy, of positivity, of peace of mind, ultimately of ability to live life and remain sane.

So, if I have any advice for dealing with someone's anxiety problem, it is this:

I don't want to patronise you, or preach to the converted. I guess I'm saying that, as a sufferer of an anxiety disorder, I can help you understand, I can help you to empathise. So try this - the next time you have to deal with somebody you know, somebody you might care about, somebody you love even, who has issues with anxiety and is going through a tough time, remember your worst ever moment of blind panic in life. Imagine every second of your day was wracked with anxiety, with no reason for it and no cause, and that at any given moment that panic could rise and you could explode as the feelings inside come flying out. Now double it. Then double it again. That is what is going on for them, pretty much all of the time. And it never really goes away.

It is a lot to ask, for you to make allowances for and give the benefit of the doubt to someone, especially when you least feel like it. It is an even bigger ask to try to show someone what psychologists call 'unconditional positive regard' - to suspend judgement about them, to be patient when they struggle with negativity, to overlook their behaviour because you know they can't help it and to be ever mindful that they might not show you any appreciation for all of this. In the end though, you will have helped them overcome something truly awful - the feeling that they are losing control. And really, you just never know when you too might need someone who understands..

“Anxiety is love's greatest killer. It makes others feel as you might when a drowning man holds on to you. You want to save him, but you know he will strangle you with his panic.”
― Anaïs Nin

Copyright ©2018 Richard C. Greenlow. All rights reserved.

A Revolution In Thinking?

It may seem odd and counter-intuitive to say, but I have come to the realisation that I am actually very fortunate to have been diagnosed with a major psychiatric condition. Let that sink in for a moment..

I have actually had several diagnoses throughout the years. In childhood I was misdiagnosed with 'hyperactivity causing behavioural issues'. In my late teens it was anxiety, then in my twenties it was seasonal affective disorder, anxiety and depression, before the bipolar diagnosis in my thirties. Most recently, I am in therapy for what can only be described as high-functioning anxiety. It would be easy to say that I've had a really rough ride, but it is dawning on me that what I thought were curses are actually blessings in disguise.

Allow me to explain.

When you suffer from mental health problems you are, in an ideal world, eventually given access to talking therapies. If you are lucky enough to find a good therapist and are able to engage in quality therapy it opens up your whole inner world, the world of your thinking. Further reading and study unveils a plethora of tried and tested methods, tools and techniques, both scientific and holistic, enabling a process of personal growth and discovery you had never thought possible. The concept of therapy becomes normalised into your life.

Of course, it is not all rainbows and butterflies. By the time most people have come to therapy their mental distress has reached such a level that every facet of their thinking, and their subsequent attitude and behaviour, is affected. Negativity has become ingrained and the process of cleansing oneself from it is painful and involves hard work. For some, this is as far as the healing gets.

Mental health isn't simply an absence of mental illness. It is 'thinking well', and that means keeping our minds open and challenging our preconceptions and presumptions, about everything, all of the time. We have to continually revise our 'maps' of the world around us, adjusting to the ups and downs, the highs and lows, the pitfalls and opportunities, and the pace of change in our busy modern lives. Regardless of how eventful or uneventful we consider our personal lives to be, this process is absolutely essential if we are to achieve anything close to a real state of wellbeing and contentment in life.

Many of us who honestly believe we are mentally well are actually suffering from some form of what psychologists call neurosis. Put simply, we get stuck in our way of thinking. We fail to revise our internal map of the world outside. Given that the world is constantly changing, our old ways of thinking and relating to the world become outdated, to the detriment of us and everyone we interact with. The result is any number of often physical symptoms, such as fatigue and general aches, pain and discomfort, which we just explain away as normal, seek physical relief for or ignore completely, coupled with a creeping negative undertone to our attitude and subtle changes to our behaviour, which we are usually the last to be aware of. These are the warning signs of mental distress.

Unfortunately, neurosis does not go away. It multiplies. We develop complexes - neuroses building on top of each other. Our thinking becomes disordered. If we remain unaware of what is going on we develop further neuroses which negatively reinforce our disordered thinking. When we are unable to ignore the problem any more our inbuilt human response is usually not to reach out for help, but to become defensive and even attack those who might be trying to help. A tangled web is spun. Ultimately, if we do not go against our nature and try to change our thinking, weeks, months and years go by and our mindstate ferments. Increasingly, people get to old age having never challenged their thinking, and sadly all too often the end result is senile dementia.

Anyone who hasn't been living under a rock for the last twenty years will be only too aware that we live in an age of increasing fragility of mind. Instances of depression, anxiety and stress-related nervous disorders are skyrocketing. In tandem with this, people are increasingly turning to the self-medication route of drugs and alcohol, which only compounds and extends the problems of mental illness. It's understandable, after all, it is simply the natural human instinct to bury ones head in the sand, avoiding the pain and work it takes to truly look into oneself and change how we think.

It doesn't have to be this way though. If we consider ourselves to have any influence on others, especially our children, surely we should take the plunge and challenge ourselves to change, learn everything we can about helping others to change, and teach it? If we trained all educators to champion the tools and techniques of mental health awareness, and to teach therapy as an essential, core life skill, at every stage of the developmental cycle of our children, within a relatively short period of time we would eliminate what can only be described as a shit load of unnecessary pain and suffering. One thing is for sure, the status quo is incompatible with a positive outcome for too many people, and for society as a whole.

You don't have to experience unnecessary mental distress and illness.You don't have to end your days senile. You just need to challenge how you think. Now, and always. After all, it's far easier to prevent the rot than to treat the disease it creates.

Copyright © Richard C. Greenlow. All rights reserved.

The Battle For Mental Health

Of all the issues in modern life that play on my mind, none occupies more space than mental health. This is not just because I have been plagued by depression, anxiety and bipolar disorder, it is also because of the number of people I meet who suffer from mental illness, and the terrible state of mental healthcare in the UK.

I recently entered my latest bout of therapy for a kind of high-functioning anxiety that has been affecting me for some months now. The sessions take place at our local Community Mental Health Centre. They are conducted by a separate organisation which makes use of the rooms when the centre is closed. I used to attend regular sessions with the mental health team there eight years ago, when I was first diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Back then it was open Monday to Friday. Now it is only open for two full days and one morning a week.

There is a poster in the waiting room that reminds us that one in four of us will suffer from mental illness in our lifetimes. A quarter of the population, even of our relatively small town, is a lot of people. When Theresa May took over as Prime Minister she made a speech about how mental health provision is an absolute priority for her government. I remember it pretty much word for word because at that point I decided to suspend judgement on her and give it time to see if she would actually stick to her word.

Fast-forward to now and not only has she failed to keep her promise, she actually lied through her teeth - and continues to do so. Mental health provision has reduced and been cut back even further, funding and resources have been slashed, healthcare professionals and trainees alike have been left in demoralised despair, and waiting lists for therapy and intensive treatment have lengthened significantly. In the worst cases, instances of suicidal patients in dire need of urgent care ending their own lives, directly because of all these factors, has increased.

Despite this, Theresa May and her inept health secretary Jeremy Hunt still state that 'funding and resources for mental health provision are increasing'. Meanwhile our local Community Mental Health Centre is a desolate windswept place that is barely able to stay open. All the reading I do supports the conclusion that this is certainly not a local phenomenon.

There have been good news stories in the UK though. Charities, NGO's and pressure groups are having some impact, raising awareness of conditions, highlighting stigma, lobbying government, campaigning online and supporting healthcare professionals and patients alike. The amazing work of Rethink Mental Illness (https://www.rethink.org/) and others is encouraging. I believe that the stigma mental illness carries is slowly reducing and people are gradually feeling more confident in being open about their mental health.

Sadly, however, for anyone with a serious underlying mental illness in the UK, getting the treatment they need to ensure the best outcome for them, and indeed society as a whole, remains a brutal uphill battle. Many people have already fought their own private battle, not just with the terribly debilitating effects of their condition but often with addiction issues from self-medicating, self-harm and suicide attempts. When they arrive at a point where they face their demons and decide to get help, most don't realise a new battle is about to commence. A battle they should never have to fight.

First you have to get past your GP. They are usually not trained in mental health and usually they will prescribe medication and send you away. Sometimes they will refer you for Cognitive Behavioural Therapy if appropriate. This is fine if you don't have a major underlying condition such as bipolar disorder, schizophrenia etc. These conditions often go undiagnosed for years however, especially when the picture is complicated by alcohol or substance abuse which masks symptoms and alters the behaviour that you present with.

The major conditions are often only finally diagnosed at the point of crisis. Getting the help you need in these dire emergencies is a postcode lottery from the very first call. Many mental health crisis teams seem to operate barely a skeleton staff. Too often it is the police or paramedics who have to make the call. Then you face the fact that there will probably be no beds at the psychiatric unit and you may well have to go many miles away from your family and friends. All these worries to deal with, all this stress, when you are already in a state of complete stress overload and have broken down.

When you have a physical illness, you go to your GP and from there get referred to a specialist for treatment. There are waits and frustrations but generally if the condition is serious you can expect fairly swift action and be reassured that you will get the treatment you need in most cases. The NHS, despite the total mismanagement, dreadful funding and resource cuts and backdoor privatisation that the UK government is heaping upon it, is still an amazing, world class, free service staffed with incredible people who want to do their best for you.

There is no parity between physical and mental health treatment. Remember that poster I spoke of in the waiting room - one in four of us will have a mental health condition in our lifetimes - so, a quarter of the population will face the fight to get treatment. How much of our lives will ultimately be wasted trying to get treated? Imagine if you had diabetes or an appendicitis and you had to fight like this to get it treated.

There are no official figures on deaths of patients awaiting mental health treatment. The government doesn't want you to know how they're failing us. It's easy for Theresa May to lie about the state of mental health provision. She has no idea of the true impact her governments policies have had and continue to have on those who fight for help.

You could be forgiven for concluding that she doesn't really care.

Copyright © Richard C. Greenlow. All rights reserved.