Beating mental illness means more 'Tigger days' and less 'Eeyore days' for Mansfield's Townsman

I volunteered to work extra hours at school to cover staff absence and after that I was playing catch-up all day.

I had my car booked in to find the source of an irritating rattle but the mechanic was less than helpful, and no-one answered the phone when I rang for information.

I had to sort out my car insurance – which I had forgotten about – and the internet was running slow, before my daughter picked me up for a late lunch.

Later that afternoon I had a workman coming around to the house to give me a quotation – and he never turned up.

Four months ago, I would have found it difficult to get through a day like that and six months ago, I would not have been able to because at that time I was struggling with debilitating anxiety.

In retrospect I realised that I had not been myself for nearly two years.

I was worried about my dad who was struggling with his health at the time and I was diagnosed with cancer.

It all came to a head one day when absurdly I could not decide what time to eat my sandwich for lunch – I broke down and sobbed.

My wife immediately phoned the surgery for a doctor’s appointment.

I love that quotation of Rocky’s, ‘you, me or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life.’

Rocky was right, life had hit me like one of his mighty left hooks and I was falling through the ropes.

I remember looking at myself in the mirror and I did not recognise the man looking back at me.

‘What is happening to me, why can’t I get over it?’ I asked myself in despair.

At the time I did not realise it, but my fight-back had begun and I was beginning to get over it.

I was throwing everything I had at this unforgiving mental illness and I was exhausted.

I had taken time off work, worked out at the gym regularly and changed to a healthier diet.

I tried to remain positive despite my anhedonia.

My psychologist supported me along with my wife, who was tenacious in getting me all the resources that I needed to move forward.

Slowly but surely, I began to feel a little better over the weeks as they turned to months, my ‘Eeyore days’, as my wife called them, were becoming less.

I realised for the first time that I was going to get better and I hung onto that like a child hangs on to a blanket.

Now I do not have many ‘Eeyore days’, most are ‘Tigger days’ as I jump out of bed bounce off the walls focused and ready for the day ahead.

I am enjoying my life and I am proud of the way I fought this illness.

It might come back but I know how to fight it now.

This is my story and I hope it can be an inspiration.

I ask you to remember two things: You are going to get better and to do so, you must reach out.

Contact the [email protected] if you would like to discuss something you have read here or tell your story.

Follow the Townsman on Twitter: @TheTownsman2.