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FIRST PERSON: Learning To Ask For Help

My Dad was in the SAS. As a result we were bought up to be audacious and daring. With 1970s and 80s London as our playground we were all over it, literally. We would climb onto our neighbours’ roofs at dark, see how far we could creep along back garden walls from one end of the block to another, we snuck into museums, schools and department stores during the night and even neighbours’ houses sometimes. We walked through the race riots and ran with the Chelsea Head Hunters. It was huge fun and it taught us that fear was not to be taken too seriously as there was so much that could be done without it. We seemed to avoid trouble and always felt that the unflinching attitude kept us safe from anyone.

This approach to life took us to places that our friends wouldn’t have dared go, it seemed to protect us, and as our Dad reminded us, was the same attitude that built the Empire and achieved astonishing discoveries. So i’ve found myself somewhat baffled by the fact that I’ve been in twice weekly counselling for the past 3 years. I admit that I had a lot on my plate, passers-by would often remind me, but I didn’t have any kind of a mental crash and I’d held fast to the fearless approach to life.

When my third son was born, my wife fell into a very, very deep and dark depression. My second son was very sick, severely disabled and well known to the local ambulance crews. My first son did great, until one day in North Wales when all the stress and trauma came tumbling out and he attempted to hurl himself off a cliff face. He was only 7. Luckily I managed to grab him and have done on the several other times he tried something similar. Naturally our business and livelihood also collapsed. Throughout all this I saw myself as the strong and unflinching hero I’d seen in my Dad.

I got a part time job, took my children to and from school, spent long nights in A&E, cooked fresh food every night, changed nappies, cleared up a lot of vomit, consoled the Mrs, navigated the practicalities of caring for a very disabled child and even organised ‘fabulous’ family holidays. Being unperturbed and dynamic was the best I could do. I was well praised by those unused to seeing such an active Dad. It struck me that so long as I continued to keep things ticking along everything would eventually work out. But it didn’t.
To this day I’m not sure what made me call and meet my counsellor. I honestly thought I was doing all anyone could. I think it was the desperate feeling that my children were suffering and that I might be somehow responsible. She told me that I needed her help on our first meeting – I’ve been contesting that with her for 3years now but I have finally understood what a dangerous path I was on.

The absolute worst thing about counselling is the acknowledgement that I need help, that somehow on my own I’m not good enough. There is a whole lot of the process which is deeply unsettling, you have to take a really honest look at yourself and it’s often unattractive. It also often feels like it is going nowhere but little by little things started to change in my life for the better.

I’ve learnt that by ignoring my own feelings I have also ignored and degraded those of whom I love. I’ve learnt that not allowing space for emotions means they can express themselves in dangerous ways. I’ve learnt that making room for feelings isn’t a big drama – I don’t need to do a huge amount with them – but simply recognising them goes a long long way. Now when my wife or children cry I see their tears and feel some measure of their pain. I no longer believe that there is no need for tears and try to distract them out of it. They can cry as much as they like and I’ll do my best to console them. I see how damaging the heroism and strength that I thought I had is to those who love me, even to my Dad. Above all else, I’ve learnt that old truism, that you cannot truly love or care for another until you can do so for yourself. That means looking after your own mind, body and soul first and foremost.

My wife is recovering, slowly. My children no longer harbour suicidal or harmful thoughts and frequently dazzle me their own empathy and compassion. Myself, I’m feeling humbled by my past wrongheadedness but now that I’m learning how to look after myself, I can start to look after others more properly – I hope it won’t be long before I can foster vulnerable and disabled children.

 

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3 Responses to this article

  1. Great Piece Chris; its a weird sensation isn’t it? Elsewhere you see the cliché of ‘tough love’ and old school stiff upper lip generating the male stereotype of dysfunction, but your respect for your father’s role model, led you to test yourself in your youth – and in point of fact prepared you for what life threw at you. I used to wonder about the old Tate & Lyle logo of the dead lion and the ‘Out of the strong came forth sweetness’ motto. Mr Tate was uber religious and this was a reference to Samson slotting a lion on his way to sort the Phillistines, only to find on his way back that bees had built a honeycomb in the carcass. That’s a bit odd really but all good apart from the fact that the lion had to die in the process. Thankfully it sounds like you have been strong like you were shown but saved yourself from a lion-like disaster – where your dependants only got a sweet memory.

    j.griffithscolby@btinternet.com 27th November 2014 at 1:04 pm
  2. I am so glad your family is slowly getting better. What you said in this article really moved me. Thank you for sharing such painful experiences. Have a happy New Year!

    MollyAG16 31st December 2014 at 12:25 am
  3. I hope you continue doing the great job you are doing and with support. I read this as I find it difficult to ask for help, but I will do now I’ve read your story. I’ve struggled with depression on and off, more so since my parents passed away, and I was bringing up a baby and toddler. Husband holding the fort valiantly, but we were struggling. I felt exhausted at the slightest thing, so emotionally fragile, but after a boost of Vit D supplements, iron supplements, the brain-fug is lifting. Anti-depressants never had worked fir me but this did. I have a lot of rebuilding to do, but I will ask for help, as you have. Thanks for the inspiration. Good luck

    Bcc 12th January 2015 at 10:43 pm

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