It’s 1 June 2013, at 09:30 hours at the foot of the mythical road cycling climb of Alpe d'Huez. The sun is shining, and there is apprehension on the faces of some of the riders. The peloton has made its way down from Downing Street, London, on an epic 1,000 mile journey to Nice, on the French Riviera.
It’s a short day, and the riders prepared to wind their way up through 21 iconic bends, along 13.9km of asphalt, and bridging 1118 vertical meters with an average gradient of 8%. This was no race, it was merely an opportunity to ride one of the Tour de France’s most iconic stages, mastered by the pro peloton, including record holder, the late Marco Pantani.
I’d set a target of 1 hour, 20 minutes to complete the climb. From the start, I turned my legs as hard as I could, sending my heart rate deep into the red. Spurred on by the visualisation of the late Pantani cycling through the orange tunnel created by tens of thousand of fans at the highly-charged Dutch Corner.
As I ascended this iconic mountain road, my breath intensified in rhythm to my desire to meet my ambitious target. When I stopped the clock at the top, the timer read 1 hour, 12 minutes. Four months of dieting and training had paid off. I’d become a capable amateur cyclist. I should have been elated, but I wasn’t. It felt like two world had collided. What happened?
A Mental Health ordeal awaits
Moments after climbing off my bike, I wanted to pack up my things, and head home, abandoning the 250 miles we still had left to ride. Trying to pull myself together, I completed the 1,000 miles, and back in England a few weeks later, a colleague asked if I was ok. I said no, and he urged me to go and speak to a professional. Off I went to seek medical advice.
July 2013. On a warm summer’s day, I sat in the medical waiting room, my anxiety mounting with every passing minute. Finally, I was called in, and there, the dark-eyed figure of the psychiatrist sat waiting to here my troubles. He’d heard many tell a story similar to mine, but he listened intently as I poured out my troubles.
Right before my eyes, this brilliant psychiatrist unraveled the tangled threads of my mind and delivered a life-altering diagnosis: moderate to severe depression and general anxiety disorder. So began an eight month battle to deal with my situation and get back to some normality, nonetheless, it’s okay to ask for help.
Bouncing back from a mental health ordeal
On reflection, I found the recovery triangle, three golden rules for recovering from my ordeal;
Time - It takes time to understand what is happening to you.
Motivation - I had access to excellent medical support, but I quickly realised that I had to help myself. I needed to meet the medical team halfway down the garden path.
Empathy - Yes, empathy, not sympathy. Friends, family and colleagues needed to give me space. I didn’t want cards, and get well messages, I wanted space to find my bearings, and get my life back on track.
It was during this ordeal of panic attacks, black outs, a lack of confidence, and lots of nervous energy when I evolved into the person I am today. That person is someone who has a hunger for learning, someone who loves to write, and for someone who has embarked on a journey to write a World War 2 novel. Since my recovery in 2014, I completed a Master’s Degree in Business Administration, and a few other qualifications, including a diploma in freelance writing.
In those years since my recovery, I’ve had a few wobbles, but it’s okay to ask for help. I am not ashamed of what happened, and I’ll be sharing my ordeal with my colleagues and the board in less than two weeks. It’s a public address that I’m relishing, and one which I am going to approach with vigour and confidence.
For a long time, I believed that asking for help was a sign of weakness, a burden I didn’t want to place on others. Additionally, I couldn’t recognise the signs of depression and anxiety. But through my journey, I discovered that true strength lies in recognising when we need support and having the courage to seek it.
As I prepare for my speech, I aim to bring my message to life through props and reenactments of that pivotal cycling trip. My goal is to clarify that it’s okay to ask for help. By sharing my story, I hope to break the stigma around mental health and encourage others to reach out when they need help.
Thank you for being part of this journey with me. Let’s continue to support each other and remind ourselves that it’s okay to ask for help.
Enjoy the rest of your weekend.
Woz