My mental story

I am a strong advocate for mental health awareness. If I were to indulge in some self-evaluation, I would characterise myself as a friendly, cheerful, social butterfly. I won a unanimous award in Irish College for “an cailin is chairdiula”, the friendliest girl. This is one facet of my personality. But there is a competing darkness which rears its ugly head when I am stressed or vulnerable.

The first time I remember encountering this darkness was at the start of 5th year in school. I got 11 As in my Junior Cert., and was expected to run the Leaving Cert party. But suddenly, I couldn’t do a simple simultaneous equation, not to mind say the three part ones we were progressing to. What was happening? My mum and dad were abroad at a wedding, and I was in charge of cooking dinner for myself and my brother. I couldn’t get the rice and curry hot at the same time. My mind crumbled. I was intelligent, and competent, but I couldn’t heat up a curry? I took to kneeling down, with my head on the floor. It was the only thing that grounded me. After 5 minutes I could get up and use the microwave again. So this was episode 1. I slowly came out of it, without ever mentioning it or understanding what had happened.

Episode 2: February of 6th year, after receiving 580 points in my Pre exams. I was approaching my oral exams, and panicking. I was fluent in French and Irish, but went for a walk every evening and forced my mother to ask me questions. The pressure to match my Pre results was self-exerted, but totally real. Some good friends and my ever-present mother helped me out of this funk, and I sailed through the Leaving Cert without a backward glance.

Episode 3: October of 4th year in college. I had my first placement and got a 1H, but not as high as usual. A practical exam left me in bed for two days. Again I got a 1H, but was certain I had failed my first ever exam. Two friends approached me separately to ask was I okay, and I appreciated that someone different could take the weight off my shoulders. I went to Dingle to my sister for a few days, cried an awful amount in public places, and read the brilliant “Flourishing” by Maureen Gaffney, psychologist. This book, with its mixture of anecdotes and scientific studies, appealed to my nerdy side. While I was incapable of elucidating my value system, I was able to take in some of her theories. The main thing I took from it was the “flourishing ratio”. She explained that negative thoughts are more powerful than positive thoughts. Thus, to stay afloat, we must have 3 positive thoughts for every 1 negative thought. To really flourish, we must have 5:1 good: bad. I assessed my own thoughts over one minute and realised I had 7 negative to 1 positive thought. How was I still breathing? I told my sister, who agreed to make this ratio a conscious project. For every event that day, we forced ourselves to find 5 positive thoughts about it. Slowly, I made it out alive.

Episode 4: May 2013. This was related to work, when my workplace closed unexpectedly. I found it difficult to get excited about my sister’s wedding. I was parcelled me off to Bali for the month of July, where slowly I healed.

Episode 5: February- May 2014. This episode was the mildest but longest-lingering. I wasn’t sure about my job, and had no interest in going out. I cried with my mum on the beach, chatted with a wise friend from Kilkenny, and not long after changed job.

Episode 6: Februarys in general. What an energy-sapping month! This year I have planned a foreign trip in the hope that the sun will offset my usual despair and sense of melancholy.

I write this to show that even the cheeriest Little Miss Sunshine has her dark days. I actively surround myself with warm, positive people, and have the most gorgeous family and friends. I have pruned some toxic branches over the years. I have never accessed professional help, which is a personal weakness. I might get to it one day.

Another wonderful but oblique support is Marian Keyes. She gives the shrewdest descriptions of the hell of depression and anxiety. She has suffered depression herself, and chronicles it beautifully in books such as “Lucy Sullivan is Getting Married”. It is within this book that I first identified with a description of the darkness that I experienced. It was a relief to know that this witty woman had survived the darkness.

I have recently started to use a gratitude journal. This tool helps me to focus on the positive aspects of my life, and sends me to sleep with an appreciative mindset every evening. I love live music, and have always used dance-breaks to lift my mood. My father describes me as “dancing to the voices in her head”. Just last month I made a playlist on my phone called “A little lift”, and I’ve listened to it every morning since. It contains “Wonder” by Naughty Boy ft. Emile Sande, and other empowering songs. Yoga, tennis, musical society, book club, and random headstands/handstands/crabs are my other weapons against low mood.

So there you go! Whether you or your friend/lover/sister ever has to deal with the murky darkness, just know that there is a glorious light at the end of the tunnel. I am testament to this. And if you are finding it hard to reach out for help, the Samaritans and more are there to offer non-judgmental advice and support.

To finish, try your best to emulate a glow-worm:
I wish I was a glow-worm,
A glow-worm’s never glum,
How could you be unhappy,
When the sun shines out your bum?!