STEER Mental Health

These stories, related in their own words, are the remarkable and honest accounts of long and  difficult journeys made through mental illness by ordinary people of singular bravery and resolution.

It has been at once a harrowing, yet heartening experience for me to record them, knowing they will inform and inspire others with positivity, courage and hope.

Anita Robinson, on behalf of the STEER Organisation

Download the Booklet

• Download A Journey of Hope as an Adobe PDF booklet (3.2MB)

Case Study: Jack's Story

A career's officer asked me once what did I want to be? I answered truthfully that I wanted to be happy. Now with the help of my friends and colleagues, I have a sense of purpose in life. I still have a mental condition, but I like to think I'm managing it better than I was...

Ever since I can remember, I've lived with an abiding sense of alienation ~ a feeling of not belonging, of being different, I was a bright and inquisitive child to whom the imaginary seemed real, but school demanded different and duller criteria. Despite loving and interested parents, who were cultured and caring, I suffered pervasive feelings of inadequacy and could make no sense of the world or my place in it and frequently took refuge in fantasy. I felt excluded, foolish, a source of embarrassment to myself and my parents. All these things I felt keenly at the time, but couldn't express them and my difference made me the prey of bullies. A childhood dogged by recurring illness turned me into a sullen and sometimes violent adolescent with little self-esteem and no sense of purpose or direction, who sought 'normality' in drink and drugs almost to the point of self-destruction.

Sheer luck placed me on a government training scheme in a daycentre for people with disabilities. I was inept and unhappy at first, till I learned to respond to the client's needs rather than inflict my help on them. It was a steep learning curve that brought me great satisfaction, a sense ofaccomplishment, success and inner fulfilment. For the first time I felt respected and appreciated. It was the beginning of three happy years, made perfect by developing a deep and loving relationship with someone special. But it was not to last and the loss of her left me hollow inside, in unbearable pain. A prolonged spell at a residential college aided the healing process. I sublimited my energies in an increasing involvement in college activities and hard work helped me grow towards emotional wholeness again.

I came to university in Ireland thinking I could put a distance between me and my pain and make a newstart. I loved Derry from the moment I saw it. It was the first place I felt at home, and the course I embarked on, was exciting and challenging.

The first couple of years at university were happy and rewarding, full of good-fellowship and great craic, but a creeping loss of confidence and a gradual ebbing away of self-belief brought me to the brink of breakdown and I couldn't complete the course. My sense of failure was devastating, for I saw third level education as my sole chance to gain the respect I craved so much.

I will not dwell in detail on my opinion of the mental health care system as I have experienced it. Suffice to say within it are people who showed care and concern for me beyond their duty. To them I am grateful beyond words. There were others who, I feel, did me more harm than good. Nor do I exonerate myselffrom blame. I could be a diffficult and un-cooperative patient.

A new motivation came into my life when I began working in a voluntary capacity with other people with mental health difficulties. My sense of isolation diminished. I found a sense of purpose in my life.

In my work I'm constantly amazed to find that people are listening to me and respecting my views. This has proved a tremendous boost to my self-confidence and self-belief. If there is one thing I prize more highly than most, it is the sense that I MATTER. I'm not going to change the world, but if I can leave one grain of sand in the desert turned uppermost, I'll be content.

I don't know what the future has in store for me. Perhaps I may never be fit to work at full capacity again. However, at the time of writing, I'm increasingly accepting myself and my life and gaining contentment. I have goals, but I'm no longer going to break my neck to achieve them. I'll let things take the course they must and manage the consequences. I'm no longer dying to live completely.

Case Study: Carol's Story

Learn, Understand. Accept. Take hold of your life. Like climbing a mountain, each step is difficult, but you can see your goal. I could've said, 'It's too hard', but look how far I've come! I'm proud of myself!

I'm Carol. I'm twenty-eight years old and I suffer from anxiety and agoraphobia. Before my illness I would've considered myself a confident, outgoing person with no problem talking to anybody. Then, five or six years ago, I developed bowel problems which were eventually diagnosed as Crohn's Disease.

Maybe it was a combination of factors ~ my bad health, a broken romance and being unhappy at work ~ but I began having panic attacks. I'd be overcome with fear, feeling as ifmy feet were set in concrete and I couldn't take another step. The attacks grew more frequent. Though I tried hard not to become a prisoner in my house, I gradually lost the capacity to go out at all. I couldn't believe or understand what was happening to me. I'd sit in front ofthe television all day in my dressing gown, then go to bed early, but recurring nightmares made me afraid to sleep.

My family were very supportive throughout this period and did their best to understand. I was referred eventually to the mental health team and offered cognitive therapy. It was a great help. I began to take little walks, make short visits to other members of the family, my 'journeys' broken up into manageable bits ~ to the gate, to the corner, round to my sister's. Progress was frustratingly slow, but with the help of a lot of prayer and practical help, I'm overcoming my problems.

Another thing that's helped me greatly is my artwork. I love it. You see, when you're agoraphobic you have a sensation of being caged. You watch the world go by. Others are progressing in life, You're trapped ~ isolated. But when I'm doing a picture, my mind's completely absorbed. I think, "I can't work, I can't shop, but I can make pictures" ~ and I give myself credit for that.

I'm educating myself about how my mind works and how I feel about myself. You need to realise that your mind is still part of your body, not a separate thing.

In the way your body would catch the 'flu and then get well, so your emotions and feelings can get sick too and can be healed. Your attitude matters. You need to be patient with yourself and say, ''I'm worth more than this. 1can overcome this." It's hard at the beginning. A panic 'attack' is a good name for it. It's like a wild animal. As long as you keep feeding it with fear, it'll stay with you. And fear is the strongest emotion. You're shaking all over, heart jumping, head spinning. Your mind is racing, focussing entirely on yourself and your terror of not being able to cope with this situation. Yet fear and anxiety are natural. They're put into you to save your life. Ifthere's a lorry coming towards you, fear and anxiety will make you jump out of the way. It's when fear gets out of control, gets a grip on you and leaves you unable to handle perfectly ordinary situations, you can't function normally.

This preoccupation with myself troubled me. I could see I hurt other people who were trying to help me. I was critical and ungrateful. I'd say, "I don't need your help. I can do it myself" and that only made me more anxious and afraid.

I know now there's a cycle of recovery and I'm in it. The first thing is denial of your illness ~ you think "somebody's stolen mypersonality and substituted a stranger's." Your mind revolves round your illness constantly. After that comes acceptance of it. Finally, there's selfeducation and understanding that helps you re-programme your thoughts. If you understand the cycle, learning to accept it gets easier.

My therapist likens my illness to a bully. You never see a bully on his own. He always has a group of friends with him. He'll send one friend to say "We're going to attack you!" If you face up to that 'friend' and say "So what? You can't hurt me!" he loses his power over you. Other messengers may be sent. You have to keep defying each one ofthem till you get to the core bully, the one who's stirring it. When you come to him and he's on his own, you find out he's a coward. When you say, ''I'm not weak. I'm not afraid ofyou. I'm fed up being afraid and I won't do it any more" ~ he's lost his power over you. That's the day you start to get your life back again.