In light of the tragic death of Gary Speed at the weekend, I think it's time we had a little sit down and spoke about depression. In the aftermath of his suicide, many people have been coming forward, civilians and celebrities alike, to send their condolences and their heartfelt messages about what a wonderful man he was. I won't lie and pretend I had ever even heard of him until one of my friends told me who he was on Sunday, so I did a little research, and found out a little bit about the apparently footballing legend that was Gary Speed. People have spoken of how revered he was in the sporting world, and what a genuinely delightful man he was both on and off the pitch. Why would someone who had so much to live for do something like that? How could he commit suicide when he was, if you pardon the pun, on top of his game etc But I bet you my life savings (all of about £87.69p) that he didn't feel like that. That despite the numerous accolades that had come his way throughout his playing and managing career, he felt like the most inadequate person on the face of the planet, and not worthy of having any praise whatsoever for his achievements.
Depression robs you of your self belief, it makes you feel like the biggest idiot of all time, makes you horrendously jealous of your friends, makes you clam up in public for fear of being mocked and ridiculed, leaves you bereft of any self worth, in short, makes you feel almost non existent. In fact, worse than almost non existent, just plain non existent. I have depression. There, I said it, no biggie. Having only recently really faced up to it, it's actually so much easier to deal with it now that I have acknowledged it.
For quite a number of years, I wasn't able to find any good qualities about myself. I hated every single thing about me, from my stupid hair that was neither curly nor straight and wouldn't do anything I asked it to, down to my scabby horrible feet that looked like I had some kind of fungal infection. From the way I looked, to the way I sounded, to the things I said, to how uncool and annoying and stupid I was, to how I wondered why in the Hell anyone would actually want to be my friend, I've gone through it all! I have to admit, for the first year I really knew that there was something wrong, I wasn't in a good place, and not in any way shape or form to admit to anyone what was happening to me, not even my then boyfriend. Feelings of such desperate inadequacy always came to the front when I met my best friends. They are three absolutely fantastic people that I have known since I was six, are beautiful, intelligent, more fun than anyone I know, but I was insanely jealous of them too. All the reasons I just listed as to why they are amazing are exactly the same reasons why they annoyed me so much. I wanted what they had, but no matter how I tried, I would never be as pretty, or as intelligent, or as fun or have the level of talents that these three girls have. I always felt overlooked in comparison to them, and in a small way, I still do, but I have learned to deal with that. Despite the fact that to the outside world, my life is pretty amazing, I still struggle to openly admit things that I like about myself, and shy away from compliments as I really feel that people are lying to me, and that I don't deserve any praise whatsoever.
With me, it's only mild depression that I have, so for that I am quite thankful. Since admitting to family and friends this year that I have it, I have found it so much easier to be OK with myself. There are always going to be days where I hate the world and hate myself and mentally beat myself up over every little thing I do and maybe lie in a darkened room and cry about how bloody awful I am, but I am fine with that, I am accepting that as part of life! Instead of being overly jealous of my friends, I have set about trying to find what is good about me, and where my talents might lie (if anyone knows, can they fill me in please and thank you)
But in a way, it's easier for girls to own up and get help. Most women I know have a very close network of friends around them, and even the most unfeminine of ladies out there can still call on their women and tell them how they are feeling. Men really don't have the same level of support that we do. And they don't seem as capable of owning up and admitting to something. Why is that though? Why does there have to be such a mannish culture thereby alienating so many people who feel they cannot open up about their feelings, or admit that they need help? It's the reason why the highest rate of suicide is in men, which is something that really upsets me. Having known a suicide victim when I was younger, it came to me as quite a shock that someone as lovely as he was, with so much going for him, being so popular and really loved by a lot of people, would come to the conclusion that killing himself and getting out of people's way, was a more viable solution rather than seeking help. If only he could see the outpouring of genuine grief at his funeral, it would have made him forget about what he had planned.
I will admit, I have never actually thought of killing myself, am far too chicken to do that, and knowing my luck it would go horribly wrong, and I would never put my family through the pain of losing someone so close to them, even though I annoy the life out of them most times. I have however, thought a lot about what it would be like to just not be here, would anyone really miss me? Like, would Mum honestly mind if I wasn't here? I don't live at home and never seem to call, much to her consternation, so would she really take it to heart if I wasn't around? Ditto with my friends, I mean honestly, what did I bring to the table with me, I had nothing to offer, no discernible talents, and I live in a different country to most of them, so why would it really make that much of a difference if I was around or not. I've stopped thinking like that all the time, I sought help! I had to, it's no way to live, and no one should have to go through it unsupported.
Which brings us to action. How can we get people on a global scale, both sexes, to grow up and realise that mental health is not taboo. It shouldn't be! Just because most times there's not any physical evidence of an illness, doesn't make it any less present and harmful. Men, you need to start opening up a bit more. From a woman's point of view, and I think a lot of us would all agree, that you know, it is OK to say you are feeling down, or inadequate, or depressed, or generally like rubbish, we don't think any less of you, we really don't, and would only be delighted to help you, even if that means just giving you a hug! And you need to know that other men won't think you less of a man for admitting to it, and will probably have gone through it themselves. Cut it out and we might actually save some lives! I am hoping that despite the tragedy of Gary Speed and his suicide, that some good comes out of this (just call me Glass Half Full Howley). That hopefully the sporting world grows up and will come together to say yes, we need to make a stand against mental health taboo, we need to open up more, and we need to talk about Depression.
Depression robs you of your self belief, it makes you feel like the biggest idiot of all time, makes you horrendously jealous of your friends, makes you clam up in public for fear of being mocked and ridiculed, leaves you bereft of any self worth, in short, makes you feel almost non existent. In fact, worse than almost non existent, just plain non existent. I have depression. There, I said it, no biggie. Having only recently really faced up to it, it's actually so much easier to deal with it now that I have acknowledged it.
For quite a number of years, I wasn't able to find any good qualities about myself. I hated every single thing about me, from my stupid hair that was neither curly nor straight and wouldn't do anything I asked it to, down to my scabby horrible feet that looked like I had some kind of fungal infection. From the way I looked, to the way I sounded, to the things I said, to how uncool and annoying and stupid I was, to how I wondered why in the Hell anyone would actually want to be my friend, I've gone through it all! I have to admit, for the first year I really knew that there was something wrong, I wasn't in a good place, and not in any way shape or form to admit to anyone what was happening to me, not even my then boyfriend. Feelings of such desperate inadequacy always came to the front when I met my best friends. They are three absolutely fantastic people that I have known since I was six, are beautiful, intelligent, more fun than anyone I know, but I was insanely jealous of them too. All the reasons I just listed as to why they are amazing are exactly the same reasons why they annoyed me so much. I wanted what they had, but no matter how I tried, I would never be as pretty, or as intelligent, or as fun or have the level of talents that these three girls have. I always felt overlooked in comparison to them, and in a small way, I still do, but I have learned to deal with that. Despite the fact that to the outside world, my life is pretty amazing, I still struggle to openly admit things that I like about myself, and shy away from compliments as I really feel that people are lying to me, and that I don't deserve any praise whatsoever.
With me, it's only mild depression that I have, so for that I am quite thankful. Since admitting to family and friends this year that I have it, I have found it so much easier to be OK with myself. There are always going to be days where I hate the world and hate myself and mentally beat myself up over every little thing I do and maybe lie in a darkened room and cry about how bloody awful I am, but I am fine with that, I am accepting that as part of life! Instead of being overly jealous of my friends, I have set about trying to find what is good about me, and where my talents might lie (if anyone knows, can they fill me in please and thank you)
But in a way, it's easier for girls to own up and get help. Most women I know have a very close network of friends around them, and even the most unfeminine of ladies out there can still call on their women and tell them how they are feeling. Men really don't have the same level of support that we do. And they don't seem as capable of owning up and admitting to something. Why is that though? Why does there have to be such a mannish culture thereby alienating so many people who feel they cannot open up about their feelings, or admit that they need help? It's the reason why the highest rate of suicide is in men, which is something that really upsets me. Having known a suicide victim when I was younger, it came to me as quite a shock that someone as lovely as he was, with so much going for him, being so popular and really loved by a lot of people, would come to the conclusion that killing himself and getting out of people's way, was a more viable solution rather than seeking help. If only he could see the outpouring of genuine grief at his funeral, it would have made him forget about what he had planned.
I will admit, I have never actually thought of killing myself, am far too chicken to do that, and knowing my luck it would go horribly wrong, and I would never put my family through the pain of losing someone so close to them, even though I annoy the life out of them most times. I have however, thought a lot about what it would be like to just not be here, would anyone really miss me? Like, would Mum honestly mind if I wasn't here? I don't live at home and never seem to call, much to her consternation, so would she really take it to heart if I wasn't around? Ditto with my friends, I mean honestly, what did I bring to the table with me, I had nothing to offer, no discernible talents, and I live in a different country to most of them, so why would it really make that much of a difference if I was around or not. I've stopped thinking like that all the time, I sought help! I had to, it's no way to live, and no one should have to go through it unsupported.
Which brings us to action. How can we get people on a global scale, both sexes, to grow up and realise that mental health is not taboo. It shouldn't be! Just because most times there's not any physical evidence of an illness, doesn't make it any less present and harmful. Men, you need to start opening up a bit more. From a woman's point of view, and I think a lot of us would all agree, that you know, it is OK to say you are feeling down, or inadequate, or depressed, or generally like rubbish, we don't think any less of you, we really don't, and would only be delighted to help you, even if that means just giving you a hug! And you need to know that other men won't think you less of a man for admitting to it, and will probably have gone through it themselves. Cut it out and we might actually save some lives! I am hoping that despite the tragedy of Gary Speed and his suicide, that some good comes out of this (just call me Glass Half Full Howley). That hopefully the sporting world grows up and will come together to say yes, we need to make a stand against mental health taboo, we need to open up more, and we need to talk about Depression.
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