2. Many high-achievers recognise themselves in this
Sketches from my breakdown
Hello again
Yesterday I told you about arriving at psychiatric hospital with pens but no toothbrush. (If you missed it, here’s a link.)
Today I want to tell you what happened next.
In the first group therapy session, when it was my turn to talk, I felt so overwhelmed that I burst into tears. It felt like I cried for hours.
I covered my face with my hands because I was ashamed, I suppose:
That’s me on the right.
The woman on my right (a City banker) and the young man on my left (a student) had both come into hospital after unsuccessful attempts to take their own lives. They both put a hand on me. And I remember that felt good.
After the session, I was exhausted but relieved:
What just happened?
I drew these pictures in real-time, almost immediately after they happened, to help myself make sense of it all.
Some time later, one of my therapists told me to make friends with my inner child, “little JP”. I wasn’t sure what he meant, to be honest. Hoping to understand, I drew pictures:
Meeting Little JP.
And my psychiatrist told me to do lots of exercise, including running.
As I would write later, in an anonymous article for The Financial Times, I was on what nobody officially calls “suicide watch”, so I couldn’t run because I wasn’t allowed out of the hospital.
Instead, I did yoga once a week, for an hour, when the teacher came in from The Outside World. Others in the yoga classes included people working in financial services, law, advertising, the drinks industry and the military.
A lot of people on my ward on the third floor, including the red-faced banker in the room beside mine, were addicted to alcohol, drugs or gambling. There were 12-step meetings in the hospital, and people used the Serenity Prayer a lot. I drew Little JP doing yoga, with the Serenity Prayer written across the middle:
I should be a yoga teacher.
One of the therapists gave a talk every Friday morning where he shared a gentle tapping exercise. He had a stern manner, like some kind of military type, but he taught this very gentle exercise.
Even at the time, I could see something funny about a room full of people who had hit rock bottom sitting in a circle tapping themselves – tapping on the shoulders and tapping on the knees – while somebody told us gruffly to think pleasant thoughts.
The pictures in this email are on the light side but many drawings I made in hospital are bleak – worse than bleak. Since coming out of hospital I’ve shared my story – and the whole range of drawings – with teams at major law firms.
It’s remarkable how many high-achieving people recognise themselves in these experiences. I often receive messages after doing those talks. This one is typical, from an associate solicitor in a top-30 City firm:
From the bottom of my heart, thank you for today’s talk. I did a two-month stint at the Priory last year. I related to so so much of what you said. I wanted to leap up and tell you that I’ve walked in your shoes and you’ve walked in mine. I was the one at the back sobbing and snotting. It was very emotional for me to hear your story.
I wanted to thank you for having the courage to share your experience and for reminding me of all sorts of important lessons that I’ve learned since my rock bottom. Stay well and please keep doing what you’re doing.
Tomorrow, I’ll tell you the unlikely way these talks started to take off.
👉 Click here to see how an illustrated talk about my breakdown can help you at your law firm.