by Stewart Bint

Friday 13th June, 1997 was the date when I was away on a business trip. They say Friday the 13th can be ‘unlucky’. But I regard that day in 1997 as the exact opposite. That was the day when it seemed my world completely fell apart, but was actually the day I recognised my illness and took the first tottering steps to recovery.

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For around a year I had had no idea what was happening to me…why I felt so depressed, why panic attacks were a regular occurrence, why I wasn’t sleeping…do I need to go on? I’m sure many of you recognise the symptoms. I simply soldiered on, as I suspect a great many of us do. Eventually, on that fateful day, my mind reached overload point. I have no idea what triggered it…and that’s probably the most frightening thing.

Okay…couple the stress of a demanding workload with the deaths of two close family members, and maybe, just maybe, there’s an explanation tucked away somewhere. But all I know is, alone in my hotel room I tipped a bottle of paracetamol on to the bed and sat staring at the pills.

I got as far as swallowing three, when my children’s faces swam before my eyes. My son was six at the time, and my daughter nearly four. That was enough to pull me back from the immediate brink.

But what was I to do? Life simply couldn’t go on. I couldn’t go on. I wasn’t going to put the pills away. They were still the road out. But my children’s faces continued to block that road.

With trembling hands I picked up the phone and rang the Samaritans. Without being dramatic I can safely say that phone call saved my life that night.

That was just the start…there was still a long, long road ahead for me, but with help from mental health professionals and the love of my family I eventually emerged into the sunlight.

I’m one of the fortunate ones who has managed to build a successful new life from the ruins of my old one. Ever since then I have supported mental health activities, and am currently working with the UK Mind charity on a fund raising event for next Spring. Also, I’ve recently joined the #mentalhealthawareness hashtag on Twitter and started tweeting about this debilitating condition.

By being a mental health campaigner, along with sharing my story, I hope to help steer people away from their own rocky road and back on to smoother paths.

In the depths of our despair it is often impossible to see the way out. I couldn’t, at first. But somehow the way will always become clear, as it did for me.

How about  programming a suicide helpline number into your mobile? I do hope you’ll never need it. But you never know if you might need it for someone else.

rp_STEWART-847x1024.jpgStewart wears many hats.  An ardent fan of Doctor Who, Stewart is also a writer, has a fast growing Twitter fan base with engaging tweets (mind you!) and is a keen mental health advocate.  

You can follow Stewart on Twitter.   You can read his interview with Defying Mental Illness in Part 1 and Part 2.

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