I’ll always remember laying upside-down, half hanging off my bed staring up at the ceiling in my private room (don’t get any ideas of elitism here, I was put in a room by myself because I was too disruptive on the ward). I had just gotten off the phone to a girl from my year in school, and I completely broke down.
“WHY ME?! Why, and how the fuck, am I here in this situation?” A sick kind of surreal. At the time I didn’t exactly feel what you would call sick, but I recognised I was unwell and I began to freak out because I felt I was losing my mind. My mind, the thing that I’d attribute a lot of the wins in life to. The thing that kept me above ground up to that point.
Like plenty, I’ve had my share of shit to shovel. I wouldn’t usually confide in the girl I’d called, don’t get me wrong she’s bang on but we were never close. At that point though I had pushed so many people away, and become so engulfed in the wildfire that is mania I was just happy to hear a calm voice. I was desperate to talk, desperate to find out what the outside world was saying about me.
I was confident I had taken up the mantle of town loon and speaking to that girl was the first bit of reassurance to the contrary (bear in mind this is after I had absconded from hospital having gone full Jason Bourne out the common room window, only to be nabbed two towns over by the law. A paddy wagon and two squad cars for little old Éanna.) I know that phone call wasn’t easy for her to take and I thought to myself how cool it was that someone I barely ever speak to would take so much time to help me, she’d pretty much just humoured my distressed ponderings. Totally selfless.
I tried to go back to work and failed. This was roughly 13 months after my first manic episode. About two weeks into the job my work flow had stopped, milled with the anxiety of the entire office being one Facebook friend request away from knowing my business. I found myself sat opposite the GM wondering whether or not to roll the dice and ‘come out’. I felt completely in the wrong because I hadn’t disclosed my condition when I interviewed. Fuck.
I was lucky to have very understanding colleagues who instilled a real sense of concern and belief in me, so when I decided to walk away from what would have been the ideal job for pre-diagnosed Éanna, I did so without feeling like a total failure. It wasn’t a loss. It was a bullet dodged in my opinion. For years I’ve known I wanted to live differently. The way I see it now is I have to live differently, maybe not in order to survive but in order to thrive.
Nobody has a blueprint for me to follow. I am very cautious of my condition but I am not afraid of it, and should you be dealing with something similar I invite you to do the same. Own it, work with it, love with it and live with it. Bare Knuckling Bipolar is my way of taking back from mental illness, but of course it hasn’t “cured” me, far from it. I’ve spent a couple of months in hospital since BKB started and I’ve applied some new approaches to life (an article for another time) but creating Bare Knuckling Bipolar has lifted a lot of the stigma that I felt.
Being invited to be a part of Joe Caslin’s ‘The Volunteers’
When I stood back to look at Joe Caslin’s completed drawing for the first time (which I was asked to be a part of with Cormac Coffey), I thought to myself ‘Why me?’ Why out of everyone who wants to make a change did I wind up there? I am nothing special, I am very far from perfect, I’ve hurt people, I’m not everyone’s cuppa and I’m absolutely not a model patient but I guess, why not me?
I deserve Bipolar Disorder just as much as the next guy or girl. It was the good kind of surreal. Unlike the day I made that desperate phone call I now know I am not alone, I know my efforts to work towards a life that I want to live haven’t been in vain. I know we will get wins we need, it’ll just take time.
Joe Caslin’s project ‘The Volunteers’ has been a couple of years in the making, and when the photos for the piece’s inspiration were shot I was flying high (NOT MANIC), in that flow state you hear people talk about. BKB was actually starting to make a mark and I was making progress with every move I made. The image you see on the wall is not fully representative of that guy though. It represents the times I was on the wrong end of an emotional hiding with bad mental injuries, broken down and starting to seriously question my will which was terrifying to me. That guy has had to reach out and cling on to help on countless occasions. The image you see is a much truer representation of what life has been like since August 2013 but take note, I’m still here, still alive, still fighting and now I have support.
While a nation looks on, we are part of a generation that is here to change our country’s circumstances. We have a choice to accept what our place in the world has been conditioned into believing it has to be, and adhering to that conditioning, or we can stand up and fight for change together, like the ones who came before us. Should you come to Collins Barracks while ‘The Volunteers’ artwork is there, you will notice the stillness, Clarke’s Square is an oasis from the chaos that is 2017, a place for reflection and plotting.
The Irish have a track record that shows we can collectively come through dark and difficult times so why not pull from that heritage and use our collective force now to create a society that takes care of our people?
I don’t care if this reads dramatically. People are dying in Ireland from mental illness and that needs to be driven home. It may seem like a distant threat until you, or somebody you love, becomes unwell. We have to urgently work collectively and join forces to improve how people on this land are taken care of.
Thanks to Joe Caslin for creating ‘The Volunteers’, all the team involved and you for reading.
Read Joe Caslin’s reason for creating ‘The Volunteers’ and the deeper meaning behind it here.
Read Cormac Coffey’s experience of being a part of ‘The Volunteers’ here.
‘The Volunteers’ by Joe Caslin is a powerful new collaborative multimedia piece of public art and film, the second of a three-part series highlighting the importance of volunteerism in tackling some of Ireland’s most pressing issues: drug addiction, mental health, and direct provision. The project reflects upon Ireland’s century of progress, and asks us what battles we must fight in the present to remake the country for the better. Read about Joe Caslin’s first part of this series focussing on drug addicition here.
This piece of cultural commentary features Cormac Coffey, a twenty year old advocate of volunteering and Gaelic Athletic Association athlete, and Éanna Walsh, a twenty-eight year old man who in 2014 was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. This piece attempts to humanise the complex narratives around mental health and mental health care, placing treatment as a health issue and not an offense to be shamed and hidden away. The Volunteers is about the preciousness of life, and the ways we betray it, as well as the ways that we honour it with our time, passion, and attention. Drawing from the example of the 1916 Volunteers, who made their lives offerings for a new world, this piece looks at those who offer themselves to transform their country in a different way, today. All photographs were taken by Gavin Leane.
Help information
If you need help please talk to friends, family, a GP, therapist or one of the free confidential helpline services. For a full list of national mental health services see yourmentalhealth.ie.
- Samaritans 116 123 or email jo@samaritans.org
- Pieta House National Suicide Helpline 1800 247 247 or email mary@pieta.ie – (suicide prevention, self-harm, bereavement) or text HELP to 51444 (standard message rates apply)
- Aware 1800 80 48 48 (depression, anxiety)
If living in Ireland you can find accredited therapists in your area here:
For more information on BiPolar Disorder go to Yourmentalhealth.ie