My speech for JAMI

For as long as I can remember I have been different to those around me.  My interests weren’t the same as others, my ability to express myself was limited and instead of being able to verbalise my struggles, I only managed to keep them inside of me.  From a young age these internalised struggles rapidly turned into anxiety, depression and anorexia. I didn’t have a clue about mental illness when I was a teenager.  This wasn’t something taught about in school, not something spoken about at home and certainly something seen as ‘taboo’ within the Orthodox Jewish Community.

I am the third of a family of 6 children and both my older siblings were straight A students with an innate ability to manage a good social life. At 14, both my older siblings left home and concurrently my grandmother was diagnosed with terminal Cancer. In tandem with this, I became more introverted and found I wasn’t able to understand the interests and activities my classmates and peers found to be so enjoyable. Anxiety was my only companion, making every-day life difficult to manage. 

I became more and more withdrawn, spending days and days thinking and worrying and stressing.  By 6^th form, I was severely depressed. Most days I was unable to go to school, and when I did, I sat in the corner of the classroom with my head down.  I stopped eating, realising how much of a rush this gave me, and rapidly fell into the depths of starvation and depression. I couldn’t see a way out of the darkness.

It’s amazing to think that a decade ago I had no idea that there was even an illness known as depression.  The understanding and knowledge of those around me was pitiful. I was in a beis Yaakov school, where mental health was not spoken about. My parents recognised the illness, but I refused to listen to them. For months I felt this pain that I could not express. I spoke to no-one, spending all my waking hours lying in bed thinking. I was meant to be studying A-Levels at the time. My law teacher saved my life. She listened to me, she dragged me off to see professionals, and was there for me when I started my first anti-depressant. She even took me to see a therapist. Don’t get me wrong; my parents would have done (and still do) anything for me. They are the most amazing people, but at the time I couldn’t connect. I remember being so worried that being diagnosed with a mental illness and seeing a psychiatrist would affect my older Sister’s marriage prospects.  I worried what people would think of me if they knew how crazy I really was. The stigma within the community at the time was tangible and I struggled to allow anyone in to my world because of this.

Fast forward 10 or so years and I’d like to think that my understanding and knowledge of mental illness is akin to that of Freud and Yeung! I started writing a blog for the public just over 4 years ago, and in 2013 was contacted by 4Thought TV to do an interview with them about my mental illness and how I managed this alongside my faith. The feedback I received and the messages I got were phenomenal. I finally felt like my difficult experiences were for a reason.

My first experience with JAMI was when I co-organised the young patron’s dinner in aid of the Martin B Cohen Centre. After hearing more about the activities of the centre, I offered my time as a volunteer once a week at the young person’s group.  I also managed to shadow one of the social workers and worked with a young girl battling anorexia herself. I could see first-hand how much such a ‘centre for wellbeing’ benefited those who are so stigmatised and cut-off. I was lucky enough to be offered a place on the Mental Health First Aid course run by JAMI, and spent many weeks learning under the guidance of knowledgeable and well-informed professionals. This made me realise how much I wanted to continue on the journey of helping others with mental health problems.

In the past few years I have been through some very rough periods including multiple admissions to various psychiatric wards. Mental illness is brutal.  It strips you of your dignity, your freedom and anything that you love.  Depression isn’t just about being sad, it’s a place of darkness where you see no way out. Anxiety can be crippling. It can take a hold on you and stop you living any kind of normal life. Eating disorders are not just about weight or food, but take over your life. When you have spent a decade counting calories, weighing yourself multiple times a day and being afraid of your own reflection, you forget what normalcy is.  You forget that eating with your family for a celebratory birthday meal is normal, you forget that being a healthy weight, is just that – being healthy.

Two years ago I moved out of home into my own flat. JAMI helped me in applying for a grant to help furnish my flat and supported me in this transition. I am very lucky to have such a lovely home to call my own – not something I ever thought I could manage. I settled in and was proud of what I had achieved with help of others. Living in my own flat has allowed me to move on with many areas of my life, giving me the space to live fully independently.

Unfortunately the anorexia and depression worsened near the end of 2015, and by December I was suicidal and back in hospital. Although this was meant to be a short admission, I unfortunately spent more than 6 months in hospital between December and July 2016. I was discharged with little self-confidence, in fear of becoming unwell in such a way again that I would have to be readmitted.  It was a daily battle where every minute felt like an hour; each hour like a day.  Waking up in my flat feeling the sadness seeping through every part of me.

At this point I was re-referred to JAMI and met a really lovely Trainee Occupational Therapist who is still working with me today – now as a trained OT.  I still struggle daily but compared to this time last year I am a different person. I meet Siobhan weekly and plan activities that I still struggle with. Activities such as cooking, shopping and cleaning are all difficult for me. I have elements of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and therefore find it hard to limit my cleaning rituals. Having struggled with my eating for over a decade, I still find it hard to plan meals, cooking and shopping without support.

I feel so fortunate to be a part of a community that really cares about its people. I live within a Jewish Housing Association block and have support from JAMI together with various statutory organisations. I feel that there has been so  much movement towards openness within the Jewish community and this is largely thanks to JAMI who are working so hard to push the boundaries we as society have put up. To quote Bill Clinton – ‘Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of, but stigma and bias shame us all’.

I feel privileged to have been asked to speak here and open up about these matters.  Mental illness is not a defect, it isn’t anyone’s fault. It’s no different to physical illness. Thanks to JAMI, I have started writing on my blog again. Writing has reminded me that everything in life happens for a reason. I wish that no-one ever had to feel the pain of depression, the distress that anxiety brings, or the confusion that comes along with any mental health diagnosis, but I have no control over this. However, I do hope that my openness helps someone somewhere see they are not alone in their pain.