Geek Mental Help Week 2016

Reasons and Care

Charles Roper •

A man standing beneath a waterfall casting a rainbow

It’s Geek Mental Help Week. That’s help not health. I realised I’ve been calling it Geek Mental Health Week since it began in 2014. I like the more proactive, optimistic feel of “help”. It evokes a sense of camaraderie. But “health” works well, too, so no biggie. I thought I would point this out in case you hadn’t noticed this nomenclatorial nuance, either. What’s that you say? It’s perfectly clear and obvious? Just me overthinking it? Very well. Moving on.

If you’re not familiar with Geek Mental Help Week, it’s an annual week-long compendium of content dedicated to mental health issues. A sort of blog-based support group. A light shone in the dark; an unmaker of shadows. The internet is wonderful sometimes, isn’t it?

Reasons to Stay Alive

I read Reasons to Stay Alive by Matt Haig a few weeks ago. This was, in part, because of the brilliant reviews it’s been receiving. It was also partly because I was trying to find a way to engage with Geek Mental Help Week. I tend to think about mental health issues a lot for various reasons. It served its purpose well, although to describe the book as a purely functional reading experience – as if it were merely another self-help book – would do it a great disservice. While Reasons does contain many elements of helpful advice, it is at heart a vibrant story of struggle, of overcoming, and of hope. Classic themes beautifully wrought by Haig.

It is notably and refreshingly graphic. The author conjures images and scenes in vivid detail. It is both pitch black and luminous at once. It’s this duality that makes it so different: he doesn’t paint depression as a merely dark or even grey experience, as it is so often depicted, but as something multi-coloured, multi-headed, and multi-faceted. It’s a spectrum. It’s an explosion of pain; it’s butterflies flickering in your cranial cavity; it’s bright flames of suffering and lurid, face-licking demons. It does contain cold darkness, yes, but also brio and good humour. There’s enough warmth to gently toast a crumpet and, at times, is more comforting than a peanut butter sandwich. It’s deliciously British, too, capturing some of our nation’s eccentricity, self-deprecation, anxieties and enduring spirit.

One of the intriguing themes of the book (it is, fundamentally, a positive memoir) is how emotional hardship and creativity can intertwine. Haig reflects on how his own creative voice was shaped by navigating his darkest periods. He considers the perspective that hardship can offer a stark contrast to the light – that finding a way through deep darkness gives greater resonance to life's brighter moments, sharpening our empathy and curiosity along the way.

Have you ever felt scared in the dark, your senses strained to the limit? Remember how you can hear your own heart and breath, every creak of the house, every flutter of a moth’s wing? Darkness intensifies the senses. It makes you more perceptive. There’s something to be said for that, despite the obvious downsides.

Haig himself reflects that he might never have become a writer without navigating depression.

He also makes the essential point that depression is separate from you. Like clouds obscuring the moon. The clouds come and go, but the moon is always there. It’s important to remember this: episodes can ebb, and the storm is not who you are. You are the moon and the sky, not the clouds.

Reasons to Stay Alive is a worthwhile read for the creative soul, especially if you struggle with your own inner battles. It’s great if you consider yourself non-creative, too (if you really consider yourself non-creative, that’s a whole other issue we won’t go into here; suffice it to say: you are mistaken.)

If you haven't lived with depression yourself, this book is a fine way to get a better understanding of people who do navigate these challenges. It’s the sort of book you can gift to someone when you’re struggling to explain what depression feels like; when you need for them to understand. It does the subject justice, in other words. That, right there, is an extraordinarily difficult feat. It is literally a life-saver.

Care for Carers

One of the most interesting people in Reasons is Matt’s partner, Andrea. The loyalty and support she provides Matt throughout is deeply moving. There are times when his anxiety reaches such a crescendo, it seems like it must take a superhuman effort to never lose patience or become exasperated. But she remains calm and supportive in just the right ways throughout. They have arguments and there is friction, sure, but it’s not destructive. It’s measured; necessary. She strikes me as an utterly remarkable woman. Strength, courage, patience, love. Easy to say, hard to practice. And yet she exhibits these qualities with a selfless ease.

It is this observation that leads to the central point of my post: we often forget those who support others through tough times. It’s common to hear stories of caregivers experiencing burnout. Those who care for older relatives are classic cases, especially if those they care for are living with dementia or Alzheimer’s. Empathy fatigue – and physical fatigue – are real challenges. The need for a break, to rest and to refresh is essential for sustained care. Love can get overgrown and shaded out by a canopy of tiredness.

With the relative invisibility of mental health, the support provided by dedicated companions and family can go tragically unnoticed. Yet, the emotional toll is real. The mental fatigue of being “a rock” can be akin to holding weights with outstretched arms. The desire to drop those weights is agonisingly tempting, yet carers can be uncommonly resilient. The need to unload and talk to others is as much a need for the carer as it is for the person receiving care. And yet the carer – due to their very nature – will often brush off attempts at supporting them.

So spare a thought for those in a position of care. Make a point to seek them out and talk to them. Find out how they’re doing. Try to make it past the inevitable and expected brush-off response. Help them to see how loved and appreciated they are. Don’t be heavy-handed about it: the last thing you want is to cause those who are unwell to feel any guilt whatsoever. But it is important to be mindful of the crucial, often life-saving role a carer plays. They are part of a successful system of support as Andrea demonstrates in Reasons. Carers need our care and understanding too.

If this post has piqued your interest in Reasons to Stay Alive, I’ll leave you with some material Matt has written for the Guardian: an extract from the book, an article and a Q&A. I also recommend the audiobook if you’re so inclined. It’s read by Matt himself and he gets it absolutely spot on.