I had my first Covid vaccine today. I was elated as I walked back to my car which, considering the few days before, was a strange sensation.
I think I had a small breakdown this week.
So, you need some context. Let me help.
When I had my big breakdown, in August 2018, 5 months after Des, my oldest friend, had suddenly died, I got some help.
Finally.
Through NHS Talking Therapies I learned about my particular depression and how to cope with the overwhelming anxiety. Putting my hand up, and asking for help, was the best thing I’ve ever done.
Fast forward to March 2020 and, as the first Lockdown kicked in, Talking Therapies approached me and asked if I would be part of a mental health survey. For the first few months it was a weekly email, which took a few minutes to complete, before it went monthly, in October. Some of the questions varied, week to week. The ones which were always there were about self-harm and suicidal thoughts.
I completed the survey as soon as it arrived in my inbox, reflecting on the week or month I had just had, and being as truthful as I could.
Last Monday, there was an email from UCL, who are running the survey, to thank me for nearly a year’s worth of feedback, and to tell me that the results had informed advice by SAGE to the Government, Ministry of Health reports, the Press and future mental health policy. I was staggered and delighted.
On Wednesday, the March survey arrived. I completed the multiple choice answers but realised that some the questions were more in-depth than last month, and that I was scoring myself badly, when compared to February. I stopped before pressing the final button and sat for a good half an hour, examining my answers, my mental state, and the past few weeks.
I pressed ‘Send.’
That evening, I spent several, happy hours, booking hotels for gigs in October, including a double overnight to see Deep Purple and BOC, in London and Birmingham. It was bliss, and really got the musical juices flowing. I even spent a few quid online on band t-shirts, which was great fun.
I haven’t been sleeping well – actually, hardly at all, – this week. It’s something I am constantly aware off because it can be a symptom of impending problems. But I went to bed on Wednesday night tired and happy.
Nothing.
Hours and hours of trying to sleep. My mind racing, but with nothing in my head. I have a digital clock by my bed and I saw in midnight, 1am, 2, 3, 4, and 5. I don’t remember 6am but, when the alarm went off at 7, I was already wide awake.
I went downstairs and made tea for both of us, as usual. As Jan got ready for work, and we listened to local radio, it was like every other morning. Except it wasn’t.
It was like I wasn’t there. I was worried, and was desperately trying to rationalise what was happening, but my mind was in a thick fog, so thick that I couldn’t see anything in front of me – not literally, but in my head.
It’s difficult to explain.
Bless her, Jan suggested I go back to sleep. ‘Back? Chance would be a fine thing.’ She went into the ‘office’, our spare room, to work. I lay back down. Scared.
The next thing I knew, it was midday.
I woke up, from the deepest sleep, exhausted. I lay there for a while, desperately trying to work out what was happening, but thinking through the fog, the most tired I’ve ever been.
During the afternoon, I sat at the kitchen table, doing so many of the therapy exercises, trying to work out what had happened. I felt better, my shoulders lighter.
Here’s what I think happened.
I retired on 3rd April last year. I was 63 and had the chance to really enjoy the benefits of 43 years with the same employer, the first 30 years of which involved long hours, physical work, huge responsibility and the knowledge that a bad stock-result could mean not being able to pay the mortgage. In short, I had earned every penny I got. But I couldn’t do anything.
Nearly a year on, I think the Lockdown had closed in on me. I had got into a daily routine, broken up by long walks, which had replaced the routine of work. The pandemic had prevented me from doing all the things I yearned to do. Cricket at The Oval. Lunch with friends. Exhibitions. Art galleries. Train journeys. Gigs.
The survey had made me think so hard about my mental health that my brain had almost talked itself into a breakdown. My lack of simple exercise and simple movement had made me ridiculously tired, but my brain was stopping me sleeping, as if it was loathe to rest, in case it didn’t wake up. That scared me.
The mental exercises helped and I am so grateful that I got really good at them, during 2018’s therapy.
Tonight, I am happy. Years ago, (I have suffered from depression for nearly 47 years,) I would have had no idea of how to fix this, but would have buried my head in the sand, bluffed my way out of the crisis, and got more and more damaged, every time.
As usual, when this happens, a piece of music becomes a lynchpin, a key to the door, to see through that fog. Not for the first time, this time, it is Croz.
Locust says
Hang in there, Niall, freedom is just another jab away now!
(I’d throw in some encouraging remark about spring as well, but my seasonal depression – no, I refuse to use that bloody acronym – came to visit last week and I’ve been fighting it since, so I don’t feel that I’m the right person to make such remarks… 😀 )
niallb says
Thank you, @Locust
dai says
Thank you. I hope it helps you to share your mental health issues with us. It certainly helps me to read your wonderful writing.
I miss all the same things. It will end, some hope here today for earlier vaccinations. I know that when things do “get back to normal” I am going to live life differently, that’s what I tell myself anyway.
Enjoy making plans hope they happen ten fold.
niallb says
Thank you, @dai. Yes, writing it down helps a lot. Then positive feedback, like yours, lifts my spirits.
Boneshaker says
Good to do so if you can @dai. I jacked in my job in January and took early retirement on the grounds that life is far too short, and the days at work are too long and energy sapping. I’ll never be a rich man now, but I can get by. Time now to watch the grass grow and smell the flowers. I miss the company and the gallows humour, but other than that I’ve absolutely no regrets.
dai says
@Boneshaker Good for you! Early retirement is out for me and so is normal age retirement. I basically “retired” for a while in my 40s, lost most of my money for various reasons and are now trying to catch up.
There will be changes, but I have to work for now.
Mrbellows says
Applause 👏. Well done for thinking yourself through and being aware of your thinking itself. You may well be up for honours for the lucid dreaming symposium scheduled for last evening!
@moose-the-mooche has the forms.
Moose the Mooche says
Oh dear, I think they might be in the cat tray by now.
Sterling work from the Niallster. We should all be this honest with ourselves.
niallb says
Thanks, Moose.
niallb says
Thank you, @Mrbellows
Mrbellows says
You’re very welcome, old bean. Oh and I’d like to add that your post title is brilliant! It really sets up an atmosphere. You should copyright it.
retropath2 says
Does the writing help? I’m hoping and probably sure it does, clarifying and cataloguing the synaptic snowstorm of intrusive thought. From your depths comes this message of humanity, of transferable benefit to those who read. I’m waffling, Niall, beautiful words.
niallb says
It really does, @retropath2. I find it easier to articulate my thoughts, and the process of writing it down makes me think more clearly.
Jaygee says
Lovely piece of writing. I struggle with the odd bout of depression myself but nowhere near the scale you describe. Hope that you continue to win the struggle to stay healthy and happy.
niallb says
Thank you, @Jaygee. I’ve been writing about my struggles on here, for years, and the positive responses mean a lot. Some of the DM’s I’ve had have been truly rewarding too.
Vulpes Vulpes says
I find it very therapeutic to read of how another person has felt the same bewildered numbness that I have felt from time to time. The helplessness of knowing that something isn’t quite right, knowing that the something will undoubtedly end, but, frustratingly, not knowing how to make it come to an end.
I am (or was) a biologist by degree, and I have a reasonable intellectual grasp of how powerful, complex and not-fully-understood the chemistry of the body and brain are. I know – I can feel – when the balance is temporarily out of kilter somewhere. I can feel – I know – that most likely my biochemical system is busily conspiring to return the balance, but I also know – I can feel – that the rebalancing may take a little while.
So for me, the key is to recognise that delay for what it is and just go with it. Talking to others helps, and my occasional silences nowadays prompt my wife to ask me if perhaps the Black Dog is hanging at my heels. It’s so good to know that others are also visited by its hairy breath, and it’s so good to have someone with which to talk about it.
We are both blessed with listeners, @niallb, and as a bonus, we also have this space to share across the miles.
Keep writing, keep sharing. It’s good for us all. May your God go with you my friend.
niallb says
Thank you so much, Foxy. Yes, Janet just knows. Her frustration is that I can’t articulate what it’s like when I’m “in it.” It’s only when I’m out the other side that the words come, and I can write them down. I know how lucky I am, especially as today is the 22nd anniversary of me proposing to her x
pawsforthought says
Great writing as always. I’m glad that the therapy helped and still helps now. As an NHS therapist I often wonder if my clients are still using the techniques years later. I’m looking forward to retirement trips to the cricket too (only 20 years to go).
niallb says
Oh, thanks @pawsforthought. I’ve had therapy, on and off, since 2007, but the TT period, 3 years ago, was the most effective. It gave me tools to deal with it all. Keep going – you make an amazing difference to people’s lives.
chiz says
You’ve perfectly articulated the universal response to a year of lockdowns. We’re social creatures, we need our packs. We need physical proximity and touch. We need mental stimulation, intellectual and inconsequential. We need to get out of our beds and our heads, we need (whisper it) time away from our beloved partners in order to appreciate them more, we need dates in the diary, nights to remember, the promise of better days ahead. We need live music, cricket and beer. I’d be more worried about someone who didn’t consciously mourn the loss of these than someone who does.
Blessed as I and by a near-total lack of internal philosophic dialogue I can frame all this as a shared global experience, a human meme, which like all things, shall pass. Cursed as you are Niall with a writer’s urge to pick at scabs, it’ll take you a different way. Neither is more right or wrong than the other.
niallb says
Thank you, @chiz. That’s very encouraging.
Kaisfatdad says
Thanks once again, Niall, for your stupendous honesty and your ability to confront the demons that so many must be facing right now and articulate the struggle.
Chiz is so right too about the absence of all those aspects of life that are so important to us that the whole planet is mourning right now.
Keep writing! Keep sharing! In this time of trouble we need you, Niall
niallb says
Thank you, so much, @Kaisfatdad. You’re so right – it’s the absence of so many things which bring us joy that becomes a problem.
Dave Ross says
It’s remarkable isn’t it the human mind. How does writing about something so personal to complete strangers help? But it does. I know. I did it on the old Word blog as my marriage broke down until I realised just how it was influencing my reactions and contributions. I was very angry and frustrated. 12 years on and in a completely different phase of my life. I’ve chosen not to share some of the details suffice to say. New job, new partner, new house and I’m ok. I still have days where despite all the good the darkness comes down. Mostly caused by memories, bad memories. I’ve become too comfortable with Lockdown. Going back out again is going to be tough. I manage work but theres only 2 of us in the office and our hours overlap. I hide behind my pseudonym and actively seek out online contact as Dave Amitri. The 80s podcast almost a step too far but I’m incredibly grateful to @twang for asking and bringing me back here. The real me avoids it at all costs. Thanks Niall for sharing I didn’t expect I’d react this way. Rambling now. Stay well people….
Moose the Mooche says
Stay well Dave.
niallb says
Thanks, Dave. Your bravery through your struggles made a big impression on me. Stay well.
Rigid Digit says
That Curry is getting closer.
Thanks for sharing, and for having the courage and desire to share
I too am an advocate of Talking Therapies. Unsure at first, but does give perspective and a tool-kit to assist coping.
(that sounds a bit simplistic, but you know what I mean …)
One thing for me was not thinking long and hard about my past – not opening old doors again and finding myself back in the pit.
(Easier said then done, but experience and reflection must happen at some point, even if carefully)
Really not great timing for you was it – retire on one day with plans on what to do and how to fill up all the time, and lockdown the next day. And everything on hold.
Grrr!
For me, working from home has been both a chore (no social contact, same 4 walls etc) and a gift (stopped me thinking about stuff too deeply, provided some structure and routine to the not going out thing). And fortunately stopped my going tonto-doolally
Hope all your plans get fulfilled very soon, and hoping to catch up for a Dhansak at Haweli when it is allowed to happen
(big up to the Thames Valley Massive)
niallb says
Rigid, Lee said the same yesterday. Yes, that curry night at Haweli is getting closer and I cannot wait.
Jackthebiscuit says
In terms of my mental health I am feeling better than I have done in years, but the feeling of impending doom is always with me.
Sorry if I haven’t added anything to this thread, but I have a confession to make in the very near future & I wanted to say what I said above for it to act as a bit of a marker for what is coming.
Sorry if I am sounding a bit melodramatic but it will hopefully become apparent soon.
niallb says
Hope all is well, @Jackthebiscuit.
Smiles Diles says
I’m reminded of Nietzsche: When you stare into the abyss the abyss stares back at you.
This resonates with me. Too much rumination and introspection can be, well, too much.
Great post.
niallb says
Thank you.
Beezer says
You’ve a strong spirit in there, Niall. And your ability to express it is enviably good.
All strength to you, my friend. Here’s to another Paul Brady at the ‘Farm I very much hope.
niallb says
And a TVM curry at Haweli, Twyford.
davebigpicture says
Hi @Niallb I saw this before I went to work this morning but didn’t have a chance to reply. Lockdown has been tough on everyone and for us, lockdown has been both good and bad. We’ve been fortunate that, despite the complete disruption of our business, we’ve been able to keep our heads above water and thanks to furlough and other work, we’re hoping to pick up where we left off by Autumn. It’s been an opportunity to get off the hamster wheel for a bit and take stock and if we can get half our previous business back, we’ll be more than happy. However, there have been times when both of us have felt pretty low, me probably more than my wife and my daughter is an anxious teen so we’ve had to keep a close eye on her. She has her coping strategies in the same way you do. She’s missed her friends and is sad that the first year of 6th form has been more or less spent online. Fingers crossed for next year. My son just breezes through life, happy as long as he can see his girlfriend and get out on his bike. He’s at Uni in Guildford so if you order a Deliveroo takeaway, he may turn up at your door one night! Even he has found the last year a bit frustrating, what with his course being largely online.
I think you’re entitled to have had a wobble but I’m so glad you found a way through this. Please keep writing, I always enjoy whatever you post.
niallb says
@davebigpicture, thanks. Good health to you and yours.
fentonsteve says
Naill, thanks, as always, for your writing.
I too had a bit of a wobble this week. I turned 51 on Tuesday. It wasn’t getting another year older that got to me, but realising that, for 12 months, I’ve not seen any of the 100 friends who celebrated my 50th with me. I miss them all. Lockdown fatigue, I think they call it.
niallb says
@fentonsteve thank you, and you have my sympathy. I’m pretty sure I don’t even know 100 people but, hey, good for you.
fentonsteve says
Honestly, neither did I. You’d be surprised if you tried it.
Then the venue told me there was a 100 capacity (fire limit) and I wrote a list of everyone I’d like to invite – including their partners and a few from work, about 250! Luckily 150 of them were busy, so there were no difficult decisions on the night.
It was brilliant, the best party I’ve been to since my wedding reception. Mrs F and I have since decided to have a silver anniversary party, another 3 years to go…
Barry Blue says
Always a pleasure to read your musings, Niall. I was going to write a protracted piece here about what, in my view, is good and what’s bad about talk therapies, having earned my living at them, with clients and supervisees for nearly 20 years so far, but too much of my attention tonight has been on Brighton’s painfully predictable and effortless loss to Leicester City. I’ll keep it brief, then.
Our nervous systems are negatively biased. We see problems where there mightn’t be any. That’s a big reason why humans have survived this long, the ‘yeah, but…’ enabling us to avoid life/tribe threatening scenarios. That was all well and good all those millennia ago, but that tendency for the sympathetic nervous system (the fight/flight/freeze reaction) to constantly kick in really isn’t so useful now. Add to that the reality that the autonomic nervous system reacts waaaaay quicker than the rational thinking bit of the prefrontal cortex, and we’re in trouble. When our amygdala, the smoke alarm trigger for the ANS is flashing away, it’s unlikely that rational thinking and reasoning, the stuff of so much TT is going to sort it out. It’s like Mike Tyson used to say: ‘Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the nose’
I’m imagining that your experience during your sleepless night was along those lines. Nights are probably the worst time for dealing with a heightened sympathetic nervous system state, hence the huge numbers of sleeping pill prescriptions (see jackthebiscuit’s post) and smoking of weed etc of an evening.
And the solution is….Interoception. It’s defined as the ability to sense the internal state of the body, and it’s something that’s increasingly becoming central to therapeutic work with sufferers of trauma, but I believe it’s vital for all of us. When we’re in that sympathetic nervous system state, we’re not practising interoception, we’re not embodied, we’re elsewhere; if there’s a physical threat we’re only aware of our bodies in relation to the threat. Yoga (not the hot variety which, frankly, is aerobics with the radiators on) is a great interoception activity, particularly Yin Yoga where you hold a pose for several minutes. Breath work is brilliant too, with its focus on the outbreath, which helps activate the vagus nerve which in turn shifts the ANS away from the sympathetic state. Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT), aka Tapping on various points of the body whilst acknowledging difficult feelings is great stuff, too, and clients can learn it really quickly and take it away. I think I’ve mentioned it here before, but I love the Wim Hof breathing exercises and cold shower routines. WH’s breath work basically involves holding the breath for as long as possible after an exhalation, ie the opposite of what you’d naturally do. The result is that we learn to be okay in our bodies, and consequently our minds, when there’s a threat state. The Buddhist idea of the Second Arrow comes into play here: there are loads of shit things (first arrows) in life: accidents, loss, illness, ageing etc, and they cause pain. The second arrow, though, is the one that causes the real suffering, and it’s the one we inflict on ourselves with that internal commentary (‘This shouldn’t be happening to me/it’s not fair/it’s all my fault’ etc).
TLDR: we can’t simply think our way to feeling safe and okay, we have to come home to the body via the breath and movement.
Still TLDR: Descartes was wrong.
Vulpes Vulpes says
Vulpes Vulpes says
Great post. This bit in particular rang bells with me: “Breath work is brilliant too, with its focus on the outbreath, which helps activate the vagus nerve which in turn shifts the ANS away from the sympathetic state.”
I must try to remember which book it was in which I read about a technique of internal visualisation and muscle relaxation that I subsequently managed to successfully use for myself when finding it hard to fall asleep from time to time. I don’t mean ‘fall asleep at random intervals’ (in the fast lane, on the tube just before my station, half way through a discussion with my boss), I mean that from time to time I have found myself lying in bed with all sorts of shit swirling through my head.
I needed a way to slow it all down and divert my internal systems to something calmer and more likely to let my mind drop off the frantic lip and into a deep well of slumber and rest. I’m sure it’ll come to me – when I recall where I read about it I’ll post the info here.
Barry Blue says
Cheers, VV, and sorry niall for hogging the thread. VV, the technique you’re referring to sounds like a variant of Progressive Muscle Relaxation (PMR), which involves mindfully flexing the body from feet up to face, and then relaxing said parts and really noticing the difference. Pendulating between dysregulation and regulation would be the poncey description. A further variant is Autogenic Scripting, which is great for migraines and IBS, and involves focusing on blood flow in various areas (back off, Moose!).
Vulpes Vulpes says
That sounds like the thing. Works for me!
nogbad says
Sorry to hear of your recent experiences mate….I hope there’s some light at the end of the tunnel..Longer brighter days, gradual re-entry into the world of things you enjoy doing..I’ve seen info for a few gigs which I hope we’ll be able to meet for and I’m assuming that the pint and a plate of something before is still to be on the agenda…..Looking forward to it !
niallb says
Thanks @nogbad. A night out with you, a bowl of pasta and some live music will do the trick, I’m sure.