They tried to make me go to rehab and I said no, no…….oh fuck it, go on then!
I’ve not written for a while. The truth of it is that I have been feeling really shit. Ever since I came off my anti depressants back in March, my mental health has suffered. I’ve gone back to that grumpy old man who got annoyed by absolutely everything. Whilst doing so, my anxiety has gone through the roof. Having never really suffered from the feeling before, I’ve found this unbelievably hard to get my head around. Constantly thinking about what is happening and why it’s happening at the same time as feeling guilty about not being the husband, father, friend, colleague I should be. Mind blowing stuff!
Then at the beginning of July, I went into work for a night shift and just didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to be anywhere apart from at home with my family. At the same time I knew that I wasn’t contributing anything to that side of my life either. I went out onto the balcony to vape (I like to call it my safety blanket) and looked across the skyline. I felt very lonely. Even with the support my wife provides to me, I just felt really…..SHIT. Upon that 3rd floor balcony, I had a brief moment where I looked over and thought, what would happen if I jumped? Would I die? Would I just hurt myself? Would I be missed? And at that moment I knew I needed to stop and get help. To be honest, I could never have jumped. As much as I put on this manly front to life, I am a scared little boy inside and jumping was never going to happen. So I managed to get through my shift and went home the following morning knowing that I wouldn’t be returning to work for a while. I was going to get help and change these feelings.
Luckily, my job offer a rehabilitation service for both physical and mental health. Set in a beautifully, picturesque part of Oxfordshire, this amazing facility is open to all that contribute to the charity and accommodates your every need. After suffering for a long time and lengthy discussions with my wife about being away for two weeks, I took the plunge and applied to stay there. To say I felt guilty about going is an understatement. But as my wife said, spending two weeks fixing my own mental health is much better than sitting at home becoming a fat, reclusive TV slob! (not her actual words but that’s how I was feeling) I am bigger help to my family if my head is in the right place.
So I booked myself in to rehab. Even writing that makes me feel weird. I think of rehab as a place where celebrities go after being smashed out of their faces through drink and drugs. Not someone who has a full time job, a family, nice house and a lot to contribute to the future of my kids. I wanted to change these feelings inside me and make myself a nicer person to spend time with. Not a grumpy husband. Not a shouty father. Not an aggressive colleague. Just a “normal” person, who could get through a day without letting everything get to me.
So that’s what I did. I jumped on a train on Tuesday 28th of August and headed off to rehab. I was scared shitless of what I would face. I think I was scared of learning more about myself and my feelings and how I would cope with being with a group of people that had their own issues to resolve. What if they were all knobheads? What if I hated being surrounded by like minded people? But I wasn’t coping doing it my way, so I had to give it a go. I didn’t share these feelings with anyone but my wife. Two days before I left I had a BBQ at mine with all my closest friends. I wanted to tell people about what I’ve been going through but there never seemed the right time to bring it up. Hopefully they’ll read this at some point and they’ll see where my heads at……
My experience deserves it’s own post and not to be tagged on the end of this part so will follow in due course. It was an amazing experience and it’s safe to say I’m feeling the benefits of it already.