Nobody wants to share a story like this
Sketches from my breakdown
Psychiatric hospital: depression and anxiety. The nurses took away anything I might use to harm myself.
That’s me on the left.
I was churning with emotion: shame, at finding myself there; guilt, for the effect on my family; and self-pity, that my life seemed to have fallen apart.
I’d have been mortified to learn that my story would later be shared among large numbers of professionals.
But I’m jumping ahead. I’ll come to that later.
Although admitted to hospital for a week (it would actually be much longer) I somehow forgot to pack a toothbrush.
Tellingly, I did remember to bring pens and a sketchbook. So I drew pictures, lying on my bed.
Things I could see:
The view from my bed.
And things I could only imagine:
The terrible voices in my head.
Altogether, I drew nearly 300 pictures in hospital.
Those drawings were more important than I realised, for two reasons:
- moving my hand over paper to draw what I can see has a restful, calming effect.
- externalising my thoughts with a pen and paper allowed me to see them as if they belonged to someone else – to detach myself a little.
Three reasons, actually, because the pictures would have a more enduring value too, when I shared them with large audiences in law firms, among other places, where HR teams work hard to prevent this kind of thing happening to people.
But I’m jumping ahead again.
I should say: this all happened a while ago. I’m a lot better now. Back to normal (whatever that is) but with the awareness that this can happen.
It can happen even if you think you “know quite a lot about this stuff”. I thought I was quite self-aware. In the years immediately before my breakdown I had trained as a coach, and interviewed (for The Guardian) Brene Brown and the incredible Byron Katie.
But self-awareness doesn’t necessarily protect you. What does?
Over the next few days, I’ll try to explain. I’ll do that by sharing what happened to me in hospital and afterwards.
I’ll tell you about an unexpected meeting with a woman who worked in a City law firm, how that meeting led to me standing in front of hundreds of lawyers and others, and how one associate lawyer sobbed – believe it or not – as I spoke.
All in the name of promoting wellbeing within professional services, you understand.
I know how lonely it can be to struggle in silence with depression and anxiety – how it feels to conclude that you are basically worthless, and that everyone would be better off without you.
I learned what it means to have a catastrophic breakdown where you just can’t function any more, no matter how talented, clever and high-achieving you may once have been. I hope what I learned might help you or someone you care about.
P.S. Nobody wants to share this kind of story. But by taking a risk and sharing it anyway, I learned that sharing it helps:
1) it helps me and
2) it can help others.
👉 Click here to see how an illustrated talk about my breakdown can help you at your law firm.