Diary of a nervous breakdown

by , on
16th May 2018

At the beginning of 2017, I put a post on my personal Facebook page.  This post was about my nervous breakdown in 2013 and basically how we shouldn’t stigmatise or feel embarrassed about discussing mental illness. There was a chain of events and reasons that led me to make this post – none of which are important anymore.  As I don’t generally post a lot of personal stuff on social media; I was completely staggered by the responses and support I was met with, following my admission.  As clearly mental health is an issue that is far reaching and will probably touch all of us in some way or another during our lifetime; it was important to me that – as a women’s lifestyle blog – this site should cover the topic; along with the other more “fluffy” stuff.

To start; my observation is that we live in a world of self-help pollution. Simply checking my Facebook every day uncovers a new “life coach” espousing their own particular brand of wellness. The market is fast becoming saturated and the pressure to be happy/together/successful/fulfilled has never been more apparent.  Now don’t get me wrong; I love a good Guru as much as the next hot mess – one look at my Kindle library will tell you that – but for some people; they’re simply not ready to take that trip.  For many out there, there’s a more important journey they need to take first – the journey to recognition.  Recognition that there’s something very, very wrong in their life. Recognition that they’re not feeling right. Recognition that they’re not coping. This is that story.

So, leading on from that point, just what make me so qualified to write this?  Well you asked, so here goes. I. AM. A. FUCK. UP.  Yep, you read that right – I’m a fuck up. So, sue me.  The truth is we all are in some way or another but sometimes our poor behaviours and choices get the better of us.  When this happens, the biggest favour you can do yourself is admit it – because that my friend; puts you in the unique position to actually do something about it……

How it all started for me.

In 2013 things started to unravel for me in a fairly dramatic way. Truth is, they’d actually been pretty shitty for quite some time but as one of life’s “copers” (let’s change that to martyr shall we), I had become very good at shoving a lid on my unhappiness ……correction…..FEAR.    To summarise; since 2008, I had been on a rollercoaster of life changing events – a serious back injury followed by a diagnosis of Fibromyalgia, death of a stepdaughter followed shortly thereafter by a marriage separation and inevitable divorce. I had moved my life 300 miles from Cheshire to Scotland, pretty much on a whim.  I had no support network and no friends.  As well as the emotional impact of the marriage separation; the financial element was shattering. So, to numb the pain, I dove into work.  I was a Regional Manager in the Motor Industry and my job took me all over Northern Ireland and Scotland.  I worked with some amazing people and I worked extremely hard, often arriving back from the ferry port on a Friday night at 11pm and working through the weekend on reports.  I was permanently tired and was not sleeping properly….but at this point was coping….just.  Slowly, insidiously, a voice started creeping into the picture.  A voice telling me that I wasn’t good enough. That I was actually terrible at my job. That I was a fraud. That I’d be found out.

Obviously, feeling this way was the perfect time to move into a new role – a more demanding role – but I did it anyway – “feel the fear and face it anyway” and all of the crap we tell ourselves to justify our crazy decisions.  I realised pretty much immediately I had made a HUGE mistake. Having had a really great relationship with my previous boss, from the outset, I just knew I’d made a serious error of judgment in deciding to work for my new one.  We were completely different people and just not a “good fit”.

By this time, I was in pretty bad shape both emotionally and physically.    I was SO paralysed with fear and a terrible sense of foreboding, that I just wasn’t sleeping.  At all.  I was convinced that another life-changing drama was just around the corner and I was powerless to do anything about it.  Every work meeting I attended was preceded by a pep talk to try and calm the sense of dread and inadequacy I felt.  This was crazy considering I was highly qualified for the role with over twenty years’ experience within the industry; but nonetheless I felt like a total imposter.  To add injury to insult, my damaged back was permanently in spasm from all the driving and the nerve compression was giving me a numb right leg.  Just to get through the day I was shovelling pain killers down my neck at an alarming rate.  Despite all of this my “game face” was nailed tightly one but I was dying inside.  I felt like a rat on a wheel, just peddling mindlessly along whilst everything unravelled around me. But I had no idea of how to stop the ride and get off.

And then my second step-daughter died. Suddenly and without warning. I’d had to deal with the news a few months earlier that my ex-husband had been in hospital for several weeks and had nearly died, without anyone telling me (they had their reasons I guess).    Having only seen Rebecca five weeks prior to her death, it was surreal and six years on it still shocks me.   After the funeral, I returned straight to work, still racked with the same fear, still feeling inadequate and still working for a person I had nothing in common with and who wasn’t interested in supporting me.   Nonetheless, I kept lying to myself that it would all be okay…..somehow.  However, on top of all of this; I was now grieving.

Having not had a romantic relationship since my divorce and now feeling very much alone, I decided to cheer myself up by dating (seriously, WTF was I thinking).  To my total and utter surprise, I met someone who I really liked and things moved quickly.  Although ideally, I wanted to take things slow, I kept telling myself “ Laney, you’ve had your share of shit, what could possibly go wrong?” and to be fair, for a while, it was lovely. It took the edge off the pain I was feeling and gave me something else to focus on other than grief and work. However, coupled with that rosy tinted glow we all cast on a new relationship; was a sense of feeling overwhelmed and mixed up about just how quickly things were moving.  This just added to my inner turmoil ultimately.  A few months down the line and in January 2013, I came to the unfortunate realisation that this person was not right for me and I ejected him fairly brutally from my life.  “Expose the wound” I thought “hurts like hell for a while but the fresh air helps it heal.” (I’m just full of these gems, right?)  Although this was absolutely the right decision to make; by this time I was too emotionally battered and bruised to deal with the fallout…..and this brings us to when shit really started to go sideways….

I decided to talk to my work about how I was feeling and get some CBT sessions.   Whilst they (work) outwardly made all the appropriate gestures of support; you could tell that inwardly, they just wished I’d miraculously get “better” and fall back into line….. and boy, I tried. I really tried.   But, by now, I was too far gone. I was quite literally, “wired to the moon” through lack of sleep, fear and popping prescription pills like smarties. I estimated that I hadn’t had more than three hours sleep a night for over eighteen months. I felt like I was outside of my life looking in; banging on the window for someone…ANYONE… to notice I was in trouble.  Something had to give. And it did. In the middle of a team meeting to be precise. Having spent the whole morning staring and nodding at the obligatory PowerPoint presentation slides, bit by bit a wave of total panic began to overpower me until I quietly excused myself, went into the ladies, lock myself in a cubicle, lay on the floor and sobbed for about twenty minutes.

What happened next?

Around thirty minutes I managed to compose myself and returned to the team meeting.  I must have looked like crap when I sat back down but no-one acknowledged the fact or bothered to ask how I was.  I should have been upset, but actually, it didn’t matter to me anymore.  For the first time in ages; I had clarity.  I needed to stop trying to do the right thing and to look after myself. No-one else was going to.  So, I signed myself off – initially for a month.  However, it soon became clear that if I was going to get better; returning to that job was not an option for me. And then some game changers: an interview with an Occupational Health Therapist (who clearly didn’t think I was a fraud), a formal and proper diagnosis of my back injury and most importantly, a conversation with my CBT counsellor at The Priory who suggested I attend “Group” therapy, as it was covered by my work insurance policy anyway.

For three months I attended Group CBT sessions and I have to say it was the best thing I ever did.  Group therapy allows you to explore the individual elements of cognitive behaviour therapy more in-depth and replace unhelpful coping strategies and learned behaviours with ones that serve you better. It makes you dig deep and at times is exhausting. Mental Health is an inside job and you have to want to do the work.  It also makes you drop any preconceptions you had about the type of person that suffers with mental illness and why someone chooses a particular coping strategy or unhelpful behaviour over another.

 

Now, I was immensely fortunate to get the help that I did and not everyone will be so lucky, I understand that. However, mental health is gaining more and more awareness and less and less of a stigma.  More and more help and resources are becoming available. In sharing my story; I can’t tell you how many people came forward to tell me they’d struggled too at some point – people I have known for ages yet had NO IDEA about their experience with this issue.  Here’s the truth. Life has never been tougher: we’re all working longer hours than ever and the advent of the internet and social media means we are literally ambushed with stimuli twenty- four seven.  Given humans weren’t designed to cope with the bombardment of the twenty first century lifestyle; we need to learn (and practice) coping strategies that work for us.

Everyone’s experience of a mental health issue is different and personal to them.  My Boss made the idiotic remark that I wasn’t having a nervous breakdown because “my mother had one and it was nothing like you say.” We must never fall into the trap of labelling how something should look. For me, my issues were anxiety related – most likely exacerbated by a succession of major life events within a relatively short time frame.  I had become so expectant of the next “trauma” that I was in a constant state of alert (fight or flight mode, basically) resulting in massively heightened anxiety and unhelpful thinking patterns (catastrophising) and ultimately lack of sleep. Conversely, one of my closest friends is clinically depressed – a trait that runs in the family.  She can have months of happiness when bang! out of nowhere, a black cloud descends and literally, immobilises her.   She’ll hide under the duvet for days and ignore ‘phone calls and messages, until the blackness lifts.  Although I used to get terribly concerned about the radio silence, I now realise it’s her process and we have a system for handling it.

Clearly, this is a huge topic and consequently, there are a couple of follow up articles I’m already writing as an add-on to this post.  I’d also welcome any stories that you might like to share – if so, please get in touch or add your comments in the thread below.  In closing though, if you or anyone you know is struggling or has struggled with your mood; I hope you’ll take the following from this article.

  • Don’t “dumb down” your feelings or put on your “game face” if you are struggling with anxiety, depression or any mental health issues. The sooner you admit there is something wrong, the sooner you can deal with it.  We live in pressure polluted times, with life often moving at a dizzying pace. Very often it’s second-nature to try and soldier on but this is the worst thing you can do.  I battled with crippling anxiety and sleep deprivation FAR longer than I needed to. So, recognise the signs and be honest. You are your first priority. If you can’t look after yourself, you can’t look after anything or anyone else. End of.
  • Talk to someone. On the assumption you’ve been honest with yourself and acknowledged there’s a problem – make sure you talk to someone.  In the first instance, this can just be a trusted family member or friend but make sure you share how you’re feeling and any difficulties you’re experiencing.  Just doing this can be a huge unburdening. You should also make an appointment with your GP, who will assess your mood and work with you on a plan of action.
  • Take action. Mental health is an inside job and it requires a great deal of commitment, staying power and work to fix things – most of which is down to you. Many people will have to hit rock bottom before they’re ready, willing and able to dig deep and look inside themselves, particularly when the view isn’t that fantastic.   To be honest, I was so fed up with feeling like shite; I was willing to try anything. Hard work was not an issue because I was desperate to feel better. I guess I was hungry for wellness. Just like drive and determination is essential in maintaining many areas of our lives – the same applies for your mental health.
  • Under no circumstances should you be ashamed about the way you’re feeling. As I’ve already said, the human psyche is not designed to cope with the deluge of external stress factors it has to in the current world.  It’s no co-incidence that mental health is a repeated news story, so DO NOT beat yourself up over your own struggles. Acknowledge your feelings and make yourself a promise to do something about it. After all, being kind to yourself really is the first step in recovery.

 

 

 

 

A Short Life, Well Lived. A tribute to Tim Berling.

by , on
14th May 2018

On 20th April 2018 – just over three weeks ago – news broke that Tim Bergling (aka Avicii- Swedish EDM Music Producer and DJ), had died suddenly in Muscat, Oman.  In no time at all, the press was awash with theories as to what might have happened (Bergling had suffered with some well-documented health issues in previous years) as is always the case when one so talented, dies so young.  Then – a few days later – came the news that Bergling’s death was actually suicide and what has since followed (in the media) is nothing short of a ghoulish, narrow and downright one-sided perspective of his life – and ultimately, death.

So, what is a forty-eight year old woman doing getting so riled up about all this you might ask?  Well, firstly as a child whose musical tastes were largely formed in the eighties; I have more than a healthy appreciation for EDM, which has its feet planted firmly in that era.   Bands such as Depeche Mode (commonly acknowledged as the Godfathers of modern dance/house music), Devo and Kraftwerk formed much of the well-worn vinyl in our household and I’ve always maintained that the truly great EDM anthems are modern-day symphonies.

Prodigiously talented; Avicii first came to my attention in 2012 (by which time and despite being just 22, he’d already been producing EDM music for a number of years) with his track Silhouettes, which was mixed into a Podcast I’d downloaded.  Whilst Le7els was arguably his “anthem”, for me, Silhouettes was simply his most beautiful track and I played it non-stop that summer. A perfect mix of introspection and positivity.

Straight ahead on the path we have before us
Day by day, soon the change will come
Don’t you know we took a big step forward
Just lead the way and we pull the trigger

From that point on, whenever a dance track appeared on my Spotify play list and that I couldn’t get out of my head…….one look at the producer – yep, it’s Avicii again.  It kind of became a bit of a private and standing joke with myself.  However, as a busy grown-up, I didn’t really pay too much attention to following Avicii on social media and the like.  Consequently, when the Volvo “Feeling Good” ad aired on British TV in 2015 and featuring Tim Bergling himself; I got quite the surprise.  He did not look at all how I expected him to….. not one iota. Now, don’t ask me why exactly but I had Avicii pegged as this slick, thirty-something euro- dude with a mouth full of capped white teeth. All glossy, ripped and larger than life. What I did not expect was Tim with his gangly awkward gait, backwards baseball cap and boyish good-looks.  “So that’s Avicii”?  I though to myself “Blimey”…

But there was something else in that face too, wasn’t there? Despite the obvious youthfulness; there was an other-wordliness about Tim Bergling.  That certain quality you can’t quite put your finger on but you know is there – just by looking at them.  An old soul, if you will.

So his death came as a big shock to me and the way he died, an even bigger one.  In the aftermath of the news, I managed to watch (it’s since been pulled from most streaming services) True Stories, the documentary filmed by Levan Tsikurishvili and which follows Tim over a six year period – shortly before Le7els breaks and up to the point he retired from touring in 2016.  The film documents his brutal touring schedule, the impact this has on both his mental and physical health and his subsequent decision to retire from playing DJ sets altogether.  It culminates in the inevitable break from his management – who he felt pushed him too hard to gig and didn’t ultimately support him when he wanted to stop the money-spinning Avicii touring juggernaut.

All in all, it’s a shockingly honest portrayal of his life on the road as a ‘Superstar DJ’  (when actually as someone who viewed himself firstly and foremostly as a music producer;  this label was never an easy one) and not something many stars would be at all keen to share with their fans.  Several scenes are highly uncomfortable to watch, in fact.  None more so than where he’s just been released from his hospital bed and so that he can complete the Australian leg of his tour.  Ashen and gaunt, Tim is shown practically slumped in the back of a limo, eyes lolling up into his skull whilst a member of his management team pushes him to do a ‘phone interview – “to let everyone know you’re okay”.  Clearly, he is anything but.

But you see, there’s no vanity with Tim and I therefore defy anyone to watch the film and not be just a tiny bit charmed by this amazing young man.   In other rockumentaries,  I’ve always been aware that I’m watching a star – someone I ultimately can’t relate to – whereas Tim is totally believable.  When he meets industry luminaries such as Chris Martin (who tells him how talented he is) and Madonna; he doesn’t turn into some star-struck sycophant – he’s just Tim.  In True Stories, you feel like you’re watching a friend and consequently it makes his journey, your journey too. You feel his highs, you feel his lows and it makes for compulsive viewing.

Part of the documentary deals with his hospitalisation for pancreatitis (and latterly a gall-bladder operation), brought about by the pace of his schedule and the party lifestyle you find yourself in as a DJ (whether you like it or not).  Bergling is frank about his overuse and reliance on alcohol, to deal with his anxiety and  keep up with the sheer pace of his schedule. Torn in not wanting to let anyone down (fans, management and as a perfectionist, himself) we see the very real mental struggle he goes through; in actually finally allowing himself to put his own welfare first and get off the rats’ wheel of an existence he’s been living.

Given the statement released shortly after Tim’s death by his family, it’s no surprise that the media have latched onto his personal struggles, battles with industry management and previous alcohol abuse; deciding  to lump him into a group of tragic musicians (Amy Winehouse, Kurt Cobain have been quoted as comparisons) let down by his industry and those close to him; without caring to take a wider view of him as a person.  I find this  disappointing and hugely disrespectful to both the memory of the Artist and to his family and friends.   It’s almost as if they’ve decided Bergling was some sort of a victim, unable to stand up for himself and turning to substance abuse as a coping strategy.

Whilst there is no doubt that Tim was a humble, sensitive soul – all politeness and not wanting to appear ungrateful, given his meteoric rise to fame – there are several moments in the documentary that show a real inner steeliness and strength.   In one scene he is lying in his hospital bed, questioning a line-up of doctors about the heavy-duty medications they are prescribing him. Challenging their logic (despite the volume of drugs he’s taking, he’s still in great pain) he asks why they’re taking the one drug that seems to be helping with pain management and upping his dosage of  opiates, which are doing nothing, other than to make him anxious.  One Doctor slinks out of the room, uncomfortable with the line of conversation.  In another part of the film, having flown to Las Vegas to do a run of of ten shows; dread grips him and he realises (for his sanity) he simply cannot do them.   Despite some truly head-shaking protestations by his management team (“think of the money, it would be easier to do them than not do them”), Tim quietly stands his ground, makes it clear he doesn’t give a rats ass about the cash and the shows are then (begrudgingly) cancelled.

“I discovered when I started making money that I didn’t really need it. “When you have such an excess of money you don’t need, the most sensible, most human and completely obvious thing is to give to people in need.”

Tim Bergling 2013.

Away from the Avicii brand, True Stories gives us glimpses of a down to earth and optimistic man, who loves his family and friends and who just wants to walk down the street like a regular guy, without being noticed.  The need to live something resembling a normal life, increasingly becomes the elephant in the room, until the point it has to be confronted.  When Tim finally does this, he takes a break from touring and takes some much-needed down time. He  gets a dog (Liam, who he dotes on) and  takes himself, his friends and his pet on a trip across the US.  Although by this point, he’s looking tired, thin and lack-lustre;  you can still visibly see him decompressing.

More recently – and in the last eighteen months – a look at his Instagram feed shows a young man with a self deprecating sense of humour, who was enjoying life.  All in all, Bergling looks healthy and is clearly working hard to find a semblance of balance,  following the chaotic pace of the former years. Family and friends are clearly extremely important and his social media accounts give evidence to the fact he was excited to be working on (and soon to be releasing) new music.

There’s no doubt Tim was a deep thinker (you only have to listen to his lyrics to realise this) and like most super-creative types; highly sensitive.  As such, the music business – with its mind boggling rotation of artists and focus on commercialism and profit – would never have been an easy environment for one so cerebral.    Consequently, I’ve no doubt there were pressures, questions and perhaps even mental health challenges.  But for the press to seemingly want to portray him as some tragic, tortured soul; is so one-dimensional and frankly the easy and well-worn headline grabber.  It’s also unbelievably sad because it’s blatantly obvious there was so much more to him than this.

I get it.   When someone so young and so talented takes their own life, we want a villain.  We need someone to blame. We have to apportion responsibility somewhere and so that we can understand it – make some sense of it even.  From the ex-management team, to the music industry itself and even his current girlfriend (who deep in grief found herself being trolled on social media and blamed – yes blamed – for Tim’s death), the bad guys keep a comin’.

But it’s never that simple. Human beings are complex creatures and as such, mental health and personal struggles are  a complex issue too.  Tim’s reason or reasons for taking his own life were personal to him and are not to be put under a microscope by the press or public and so that we can dissect them.  It’s really none of our business and what’s more,  it doesn’t bring the person back.

Sure, there are lessons to be learned within the True Stories documentary. Lessons around how the music industry treats its artists like commodities and how cognitive dissonance takes hold of previously rational people – once they start seeing how much money is to be earned.  But for me, the biggest lessons are around what a truly good human being Tim Bergling was. At least, that’s what I’ve decided to take away from all this….

Despite his crazy talent and even crazier level of fame: despite the fact that big-time artists were queuing up for a touch of the Avicii production magic;  Tim always remained down to earth, gracious, humble and polite. Someone’s son, someone’s brother and someone’s friend; we can now only imagine where his skills might have taken him next.  The boy next door who just happened to be amazingly gifted and amazingly good.  So whilst his music lives on in Avicii;  his true legacy lives on as the man.

RIP Tim. You lived a good life. You will be missed.

 

Instagram