Before I start this post I’d like to make something clear. I’m incredibly grateful to have received the recognition I have and to be amongst some incredible winners who have achieved brilliant things for those living with poor mental health. I highly recommend looking at the other stories of winners if you want a lift. Visit the East Kent Mind Mental Wellbeing Awards page for more information.
This post is one I’ve been promising for a few weeks. Since I found the out that, unbelievably, I’d won two awards from the mental health charity Mind for my Mental Health advocacy and volunteering, my thoughts haven’t been quite as celebratory as most would think.
Yes, I’ve worked really hard for the recognition, and all the voluntary work I do is about improving the healthcare landscape for mental health patients in the future, but I’m still someone who struggles with their own mental illness. As most people know, having good news doesn’t grant you a break from being unstable, in fact, it just gave me more reasons to become extra wobbly.
Let me explain…
I found out in September that I’d won, but before I’d had a chance to let the news sink in, I was thinking about how I’ll tackle the awards ceremony. Yes, I’d won, but in order to get hold of the proof I’d need to leave home for the first time in 2.5 years. That’s without considering how I stay safe and healthy while out, and juggle the severe levels of social anxiety that’ll pop up as I meet new people for the first time since before the pandemic. For someone as isolated and afraid as me, that’s a huge amount to contemplate, and panic quickly started taking over.
The life of an agoraphobe isn’t one that’s easily navigated, and when you start thinking of life outside again, you don’t just worry about leaving the house or being in crowds (both common misconceptions). For me, the anxiety manifests in much simpler things like how has the environment outside changed, what’s it like to visit a shop now, and how fast are cars going on the motorway? Life inside for so long takes a huge amount of adjustment, so achieving the reverse takes as much (if not more) effort just to do the things others take for granted every single day.
A few times I reminded myself that this is why I’ve won the awards, because I’ve kept working on all my campaigns despite my own physical and mental health being incredibly challenging. Unfortunately I couldn’t hold on to those thoughts for long, as the pressure started to mount for me to attend in person.
It’s no one’s fault, but people seem to read my story, show interest and even empathy, but then forget or expect me to be able to selectively overcome the symptoms with ease. If it was simple then I wouldn’t have been at home for so long. I think that imagining life so sheltered for so long is very difficult for everyone on the outside. Try as I might, people kept applying pressure for me to show my face, and I sobbed for several nights at the anxiety and paranoia it was causing.
That’s right – I’d won two awards and it made me overwhelmingly sad.
Despite my story, mental illness, severe social anxiety, pain, seizures and 2.5 years indoors all forming part of the reason I’d been awarded, a huge amount of internal and external pressure was mounting on me to be there in person. I desperately wanted to go, I wanted to meet the other winners, I wanted to talk about my ideas and campaigns, and I wanted to get the awards myself, but I knew it was going to be impossible to achieve even if I moved every mountain in my way. I understand it’s weird (like most things in my life) and many people would move heaven and earth to be at such an important event themselves, but getting out safely is currently impossible, so that pressure left me feeling defeated for weeks.
In the lead-up to the event, I imagine most winners were getting excited and hopeful for the possibilities the ceremony might bring. I hope they felt proud of their moment in the spotlight. For me the lead-up was pretty scary and anxious, but I wish it had been different.
Something that should be a happy event, a moment to take stock and realise that my life actually does have some meaning and worth, turns out to be a reason to hate myself and feel useless for not being able to be there. Those feelings then morphed and manifested as something much worse – a forceful imposter. In my head I was hearing…
“Well if you can’t be there to accept the awards in person then maybe you shouldn’t have been given them at all. It must be a mistake.”
For some time I’d settled on the fact that the awards would be revoked because I wasn’t able to be there in person. I didn’t have someone to send, the organisations I volunteer for didn’t have anyone available, and it didn’t feel fair to send my partner, who is a private person.
Can you imagine that? You get the news that the work you’ve done for 2 solid years, the graft you’ve put in on your worst days, the money you’ve invested, the time you’ve volunteered all on your own steam, can’t be recognised by an award from a mental health charity because your own mental and physical health is so poor. It was perplexing, and really sad. I know how hard I’ve worked, and I know how much I care about making some sort of difference before my time is up, but I didn’t expect to feel deflated and disappointed in myself when some wonderful praise unexpectedly arrived.
Nonetheless, the external and internal pressure was very real, and in the end I felt I didn’t deserve a thing for being so useless. As time drew closer, the idea that couldn’t go and therefore I should forego the awards and potentially accept that they’re revoked, started to make sense and feel safest.
My partner, always the positive influence in my life, was determined that all shouldn’t be lost and insisted that he would go for me, so (after a LOT of discussion) that’s what I arranged. As always, I worked hard to make sure it was as simple as possible for him, but he was going on my behalf just to be kind, knowing how hard I work from this little square of the planet, so he still wanted to keep his privacy. The pressure then grew for him to be in the media, even though he wanted to stay private, despite me asking that all press comes to me directly because he didn’t ask to be in the spotlight.
I felt like a failure.
What transpired was several weeks of worry, then an evening of panic while my partner attended without phone reception (so he couldn’t even stay in touch and I was so worried) followed by regret that I’d sent him at all because I felt guilty I’d passed on the pressure.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled I was ever even nominated and feel really chuffed that anyone thinks highly of my work to give me two blooming awards. But if awarding someone who openly admits their anxiety, agoraphobia and pain are so high that they haven’t even been outside for nearly 3 years was too complicated, then in some ways I just don’t feel deserving. As a result, my certificates remain on the floor waiting to be hung and I haven’t posted any acceptance pictures on socials.
I still feel like a failure.
It should have been such a celebration. All this time stuck indoors while still campaigning for better mental health support for everyone else, and the moment I get to celebrate it feels like a loss, like letting me win is a burden to everyone else and that I should be better at all this.
The only thing I know from this journey is that the people you think will understand the best, actually understand very little. I’ve started expecting to explain myself over and over again knowing I’m often unheard and, if I’m going to survive the stigma, I have to try and empathise with those that find me weird.
Because (let’s face it) I am weird and, ultimately, it’s my weirdness that’s left me, once again, feeling a failure for receiving two frigging awards. I wish the process had been gentler for me and my better half, but it was hard going.
I’m confident Kate Wilslet celebrated her Oscar with many glasses of champagne, that Adele bathed with her trophies the morning after her first Grammy, and that Streisand has shelf upon shelf of shrines dedicated to her Egot (Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and Tony award winner) status.
I just have tissues of tears, and I guess that’s all mental instability will grant me right now.
I’ll sign off by repeating my starting statement – I’m still incredibly grateful to have received the recognition and to be amongst some incredible winners who have achieved brilliant things for those living with poor mental health. I highly recommend looking at the other stories if you want a lift. There are some truly groundbreaking ventures and groups that are helping people in innovative and exciting ways.
Visit the East Kent Mind Mental Wellbeing Awards page for more information.
Look after yourselves and thanks for reading 💜
Creative Steph 