What charitable work does for your mental health

"If you wake up and have something you enjoy, it leads you to look forward rather than back." Photo / Getty Images

OPINION

When I was at my lowest ebb, charity work offered me a new perspective – and rugby, which I always loved, nearly became a curse.

From the outside, I was successful. I spent my career selling commercial fitness equipment, working up to 70 hours a week, earning hefty commissions, striving and achieving.

I’d bought a nice house, got married, and my son had just been born. It was all happening for me… but right when I was at the top of the world, everything changed.

Out of nowhere I was made redundant, which put us under financial pressure and suddenly even the basics like paying for the mortgage became difficult. Without work to distract me, I looked at my marriage and, despite the fact we’d only tied the knot fairly recently, I could see it was breaking down. I began to feel it would be better, even with my 18-month-old son at home, to walk away from it.

While we were divorcing, I moved into a bedsit, which was more or less a converted garage nearby, surrounded by the boxes full of everything from my old life.

It was at this point my passion became my curse. I’m a lifelong rugby guy. I grew up at my local club, I was captain of the team, and with that came a drinking culture. I was drinking at the club most week nights, feeling more depressed, and drinking even more to numb myself. People could see that something was going on with me, that I was gaining weight, that I wasn’t looking after myself, but I always kept a smile on my face.

My friends were checking in on me, but they’d ask me in a noisy bar, in a clubhouse, and my default answer was always “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m OK”. And then they’d offer me a drink.

Having a pint with a friend is a good environment for men to talk to each other. But alcohol is a depressant, and in my case, it accelerated my depression. I needed support, not just a drink.

I now know that how I was feeling is more common than I thought. According to the latest data from the ONS, the rate of suicides in Britain is increasing. Among women, suicide rates are highest in those aged between 40 and 49, while in men rates are highest amongst 50 to 55-year-olds.

‘One of the key things for me was finding purpose and the way I did that was by working for a charity’

Eventually, I drove to visit my mum in North Devon with the idea that I would tell her everything. The day after I arrived, she was diagnosed with cancer. She died 25 days later.

I spiralled. I ended up in a dark place. I was struggling for air. I struggled for work. I think I’d been in the same sector for so long people didn’t think my skills were transferable. I was being offered positions that had nothing wrong with them but weren’t right for me.

I was a creative and sales-driven person and I was finding myself offered warehouse work. I tried to find inspirational opportunities and just couldn’t. I was lonely and overwhelmed by everything going on in my head. When you wake up every day with no hope, no purpose in life, you’re constantly looking for a way to stop feeling that way. The only way I felt I could escape everything terrible happening in my life was to not be here any more.

It was my ex-wife who found me the next morning, after my suicide attempt. I hadn’t comprehended what I’d done and what I was actually going through.

She gave me a moment’s silence on that day, to sit with it, and then she asked me to call Samaritans. That was the moment I could take stock and realise I needed to sort this. It made me realise I’d reached a point no one should ever get to. So I picked up the phone.

I remember the voice on the other end that said “I’m here and I’m listening.” I told that female voice what I’d done and why. It was the first time I actually said out loud to anyone how I was feeling. It was a relief to say it out loud; it made me take stock of where I was and finally admit to myself that I really needed help. That was the most important thing. I could finally admit where I was in the world, in my life, and that I needed support.

The conversation made me see I had more options than I thought and I decided to contact my GP. The doctor put me on crisis watch and I had to check in by phone every day or they’d call the police, but I was offered counselling. That helped me talk through my problems, find solutions and learn to self-care and understand myself. It took time with various counsellors to build a ‘self-care toolbox’ that keeps me on an even keel. I know that medication doesn’t work for me, for instance, so I had to learn how to manage stress and adversity.

One of the key things for me was finding purpose and the way I did that was by working for a charity. An opportunity came up for six months’ maternity cover doing fundraising work for a homeless support charity in Reading. Where I’d tried to feel successful by chasing a salary and commission, now my commission was seeing what we were doing with the money we were raising, helping people move forward in life. It was an immensely powerful thing for me.

I used to share my story when raising awareness about how easily we can fall. It helped people challenge their own biases about homelessness and it helped me see I wasn’t alone.

Now, I work as a corporate partnerships and fundraising manager for Sport in Mind, a charity transforming the lives and mental health of children and adults through sport and physical activity. As a rugby guy it’s the perfect fit for me. It has completely changed everything about my quality of life. I look forward to things rather than look back on the past.

If you wake up and have something you enjoy, it leads you to look forward rather than back.

I do still struggle sometimes, but now I recognise the signs – if I’m not sleeping, not exercising enough, drinking during times of stress – and I change those. A lot of people would benefit from understanding themselves and their mental health better.

Sometimes it’s not the biggest stress or problems that break us, it’s the smaller ones piling up. If we can deal with those, it makes the bigger problems more manageable. At my rock bottom I wasn’t opening mail because it was where my problems were. If I’d opened one or two letters and dealt with them perhaps I wouldn’t have got to where I got to.

Most of my friends know my story now and they’re sad that I didn’t tell them what I was going through. At the time I felt like I didn’t want to burden them. If people are worried about a friend or family member, think about how you’re asking the questions. If I’d been asked if I wanted to go for a walk around the rugby pitch, maybe I would have opened up. Sometimes it’s not the fact we’re asked the question, it’s when and where. If we can find a better way of asking, a better place, or one which doesn’t just default to “I’m OK”, that must help.

If any man is reading this and seeing any parallels with their own lives, you need support. Be honest, be open with a friend, a colleague, or just yourself. Admitting it out loud can be the first step. We’re all going through stuff so let’s support each other.

As told to Jack Rear