by Ben Thomas
I was willing Rory to interrogate me before he intervened and strong-armed me into silence. I looked up into Rory’s benevolent eyes, imploring him to say something. The café was quiet this early in the morning but it would soon start filling up and I knew I wouldn’t be able to speak freely if there were people at a nearby table. Rory was fiddling with the salt cellars. He looked more nervous than me.
“Are you okay, Rory?”
He quickly put the salt cellar down. “Yes, Toby. Yes, I’m good, but I’m concerned for you. I don’t want to pry, but if there is anything you want to talk about…well, you know… don’t feel embarrassed. I’m not your boss anymore…obviously, but I hope you see me as a friend. What I am trying to say is…how are you, Toby?”
I was moved by Rory’s tactful approach. My eyes were gently weeping. I couldn’t help it, but strangely for the first time, these tears felt kind of good. I felt relief that someone like Rory was asking how I was.
“I need help, Rory. I can’t cope anymore.” It was my turn to pick up the salt cellar and start fiddling with it.
“Are you struggling with being made redundant?”
“No, well, yes, I suppose I might be a bit, but it’s not that.” I paused as I thought about how I could explain about him without Rory thinking I was mad or weird, but I thought ‘Fuck it, he probably already thinks I’m mad and weird after breaking down in front of his family.’ I took a deep breath…
“You’ll probably think that I’m mad and weird…well, I guess I am, erm, I’ve never really told this to anyone before…well, not properly…” I turned my head both ways, to take a look around the café. An elderly couple had come in but sat far enough away, so they shouldn’t have been able to hear us, but I was worried I might lose my nerve.
“Go on, Toby. You have my complete discretion. This will be between you and me.”
“Well, I have, erm, how can I put it…well, I’ve always described it as anxiety and worry but it’s more than that, and this really is going to sound weird…” I took another glance around me. “And you know what, I’m not one of those mad people you see walking around the park muttering to themselves. I’m just one of those mad people you see crying in the park, ha ha…You see, the thing is, I have…well, I guess one way of describing it is, erm, it feels like…it feels like I have something sort of, um, living in my head which is…well, it’s like it’s…eating my mind…it’s killing me, it’s eating away my sanity. For fuck’s sake, what am I saying! This is fucking ridiculous.” I buried my head in my hands, to avoid Rory’s judgment.
Rory leant forward and put his hands on mine. He looked at me unmoved. “It’s okay, Toby. Take your time.”
I breathed deeply and started again. “On one level I feel I’m normal, but this terror inside my head overpowers me. I live in constant dread and fear of things going bad. This thing, this terror in my head, tells me I am the cause of bad things happening. I’m not a bad person though, Rory. I know I’m not.”
“Of course you’re not, Toby. Of course you’re not.”
“But this thing tells me that I am. If I don’t do certain things, bad things will happen.”
“How do you mean?”
I looked at Rory’s face for any sign of consternation or judgment but there appeared to be none, just a sense of calm.
“It’s okay, Toby,” he said.
“Well there are the obvious ones, like I have to be certain that the gas is off, that the windows are closed, the door is locked, taps aren’t left running, my computer is signed off at work, well when I was at work.”
Rory smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Toby. I would do the same thing. You know how I feel about computer security; I had to go on about it to the team more times than I care to remember. And I always check appliances are off and doors are locked. It’s normal behaviour, Toby.”
“Maybe it is, and I’m just feeling sorry for myself, but do normal people check the door is locked ten, twenty, thirty times and then go back even an hour after leaving the house just to check again another ten, twenty, thirty times because they’ve been convinced all that time that they hadn’t checked it in the first place? And then once they’ve checked again, they spend hours worrying about whether it really is locked and only stop worrying when they have found something worse to worry about? Do normal people take two hours to leave their house in the first place because they’re conducting safety checks in their home? The times I was late for work, you used to tell me to go to bed earlier and get up earlier. I was already getting up at 5 am just to be two minutes late most days. Is that normal?”
“No, I suppose not.” Rory’s expression had subtly altered. I could see confusion in his eyes, though I couldn’t discern condemnation.
I pressed on. “If it was just the checking, maybe I could handle it…but there’s other stuff…” I hesitated and took yet another look around me. “This is private, isn’t it? You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“Of course not, you have my word.”
“Catastrophic, horrifying thoughts keep coming into my head. I don’t want to imagine them, I don’t choose to, but I see things, like people I know in a car crash, or in a fire, or being stabbed, and I think because I’ve thought these thoughts, they will come to pass and that I’ll have caused it and everyone will know I’m a bad person, an evil person.”
You have thought it, you will cause it.
“See, even now, because I’ve said and thought what I just told you, I’m convinced in my mind that I have now caused catastrophes to happen. So I try and force myself not to think the thoughts, but my resistance only seems to fuel the monster in my mind, and so the more I try to stop thinking like this, the more terrifying and persistent the thoughts become. I know there’s not really a monster in my mind, but I don’t know how else to describe it.’
I swallowed. Rory didn’t say anything. I summoned my courage from wherever it had been hiding. I had to do this, I needed to confess.
‘Then there are certain words that I have to avoid hearing, saying, reading…thinking. If I come across the forbidden words or I allow them to enter my head then my mind convinces me really bad things, terrible things, will happen. So I have to cancel out the words, to neutralise the effects of the words by thinking a good word…it’s weird, I know. I mean they’re just words, they can’t affect anything, but my mind tells me they do. And the more I try to avoid the bad words, the more I see them, hear them, think them. Believe it or not, that’s why I couldn’t kick the ball back to you before. The words had tainted the action, so bad things would have happened if I had kicked it back. Don’t worry, I didn’t kick the ball, so you should be okay this time.” I tried to smile at this attempt at a joke. “I have to walk in and out of a room three, four, five, ten times to neutralise any catastrophic thoughts or any prohibited words that have come into my head. When the redundancies were announced, I thought how bad it would be if you were made redundant, and because I thought it, I caused it…sorry.”
“Don’t be daft.”
I smiled ironically. “That’s it, I am daft.”
“Sorry, wrong choice of word, but you had nothing to do with my redundancy. I was the obvious choice and, hey, the redundancy was no bad thing.”
“That’s just a flavour of what’s conflicting me, but there are hundreds of other examples I could give you. And it’s been getting worse. The more I fight it, the harder it seems to become. I feel like my life is over. I can’t apply for jobs, I can’t go on holiday, I have few friends, certainly no girlfriend. I feel like giving up on life because all my energy is directed on either trying to fight or trying to obey this…this, this thing.” I banged my head hard with my knuckles. I looked down at my coffee and we sat in silence while I waited for Rory to speak.
It felt like ten minutes, but had probably only been ten seconds when the panic set in and I said “You think I’m insane. I�
��m sorry, Rory. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I hastily moved to get up from my chair.
“Sit back down,” Rory said in a firm voice that shocked me into obeying immediately.
“Okay, okay,” I said checking about me in case anyone heard me being embarrassingly reprimanded. “No need to use the big boss voice.”
“Sorry, Toby, but you wanted to talk with me and I thought that’s what we were going to do. First of all, I don’t think you are insane, mad, bad or weird as you say. You say you want to be normal. Well, I tell you I think you already are. I also think you are a good person. A lot of your concerns seem to stem from you caring so much, and caring is a beautiful quality.”
I glanced up at Rory, who was smiling gently at me. I gave a weak smile in return before continuing the staring contest with my coffee.
“You are going through a difficult time, and I am no expert, but from what you’re telling me you are struggling with some mental health issues…well, welcome to the club. Lots and lots of people struggle with mental health, whether it be stress, anxiety, depression, phobias or what you’re going through. I have seen it so many times with people both in a professional capacity and on a personal level. Most people suffer in silence and so we never know the great struggle they’re going through. People fear the stigma of mental health. They believe there’s a lot of prejudice against people who struggle with it. And to be fair, there still is a lot of prejudice out there. People are labelled with the words ‘mad’ and ‘weird’ but people who use those words are ignorant of the real effects of mental health and that lots and lots of ‘normal’ people suffer with these kinds of issues. This prejudice and stigma is so damaging if it prevents people from seeking help, and let me tell you, Toby, there is help out there. Whether it be through family or friends or professional help, there is support there. When I was struggling, I had the help of my church.”
“When you were struggling?” I looked up in surprise at Rory, who right now was as calm and collected as ever.
“Yes, I struggled with depression and anxiety in the midst of Jane and I trying for children. I blamed myself for us not being able to conceive.”
“Sorry, Rory, I didn’t realise.”
“Well that’s just it, isn’t it, Toby? We can’t see an illness in someone’s mind and sometimes we don’t recognise it ourselves, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real.”
“How did you cope?”
“For me I found great support and strength though my Christian faith and through prayer and the support of my friends and my Pastor at church.”
“I sometimes think God is punishing me with my issues.”
“I’m not going to go bashing you with my Bible, but I will tell you one of my favourite bits of scripture: ‘God did not give us a spirit of fear but love, power and a sound mind.’ For me it means that God doesn’t want me to be troubled in my mind and He doesn’t want you to be either.” Rory had placed his hand on my arm and shook it.
“Well, that’s reassuring.”
“It appears to me that you recognise that you have a problem, and by speaking to me it shows that you want to be helped.”
“I think I do, but I don’t know if I can be. I’ve struggled so long with it.”
“Look at me, Toby.” Rory now moved both his hands back onto mine. I was gripped by self-consciousness and was tempted to take another look around the café, this time to see if people thought Rory and I were lovers, but Rory was so intense that I dared not look away.
“You must never give up, there is always hope. When Jane and I were struggling I eventually realised that there were some things I couldn’t control, so there was no benefit to dwelling on these things. At the same time there were certain things I could control and influence so I started looking for solutions. We explored IVF and when that looked like it might not work, we looked at adoption. There were lots of times that we could have given up. It had been so long that we had wanted children, but while there was still hope we kept going, looking for solutions. And as you know, the IVF worked and we have beautiful twins. Look at my redundancy. I’ve not found a new job yet, but I’m not worried because my worry won’t change a thing. All I can do is take the actions that are going to give me a better chance of success. Once I have done that, I let it go. I can only control my own actions. Of course, the doubts and the worries come, but they don’t help. They don’t prevent someone giving me a job. At best they show I care and at worst they could prevent me taking the action I need to take to help put myself in a better position. As I said, I’m no expert in this field, but you appear to be struggling with extreme anxiety and worry. So let me assure you: you thinking worrying thoughts does not cause anything to happen. Thoughts have no effect. It’s your actions that count. So as long as you choose to take positive actions, your thoughts cannot cause bad things to happen. Yes, it’s your actions that count, Toby, and also this,” Rory started tapping his chest, “your heart! And Toby, I know you have a good heart.”
Rory was looking at me with such intensity and compassion and was still holding onto my hands. Fresh tears began massing their ranks in my eyes, but these weren’t tears of desperation or brokenness, these were tears of hope and pride.
“What should I do?” I asked.
“Do you want to be helped?”
My eyes briefly narrowed. Why did Rory even need to ask that question, but then I saw what he meant. Of course I needed help, but did I actually want to be helped?
“Yes, yes I do.”
“Well, help is what you need to find. Have you told your family yet?”
“No, but I don’t think they would be the ones to talk to. I doubt they’d understand.”
“Do they love you?”
“I guess so.”
“They don’t need to understand; they just need to support you. If they love you, they won’t judge you. They’ll want to ease your struggles and they will ease them by being there for you and loving you. So you should tell them, and then I suggest you seek professional help. I don’t know anyone myself, but I can look into it if you like.”
“It’s okay, I know someone in that field who I can speak to.”
“Good, good.”
“Daddy!”
I looked over to see Rory’s two children and wife had entered the now full café. I hadn’t even noticed, but there were people at the tables either side of us who had no doubt seen my emotional performance, clasping hands with Rory, tears in my eyes, but…I didn’t care.
“Toby, you’ve met Jane before, I think.” This time I reciprocated Jane’s smile. “And these rascals are Teddy and Gemma.”
“Why were you crying and hugging my daddy?” asked Gemma, in the way only children can.
“Well, your daddy is a special man, and he used to be my boss, and I was very happy to see him.”
At that Gemma put her arms around her dad and said, “I’m happy to see you too, Daddy, and I think you’re special too.”
Rory, Jane and I all laughed, me through a noseful of snot. Then Teddy tugged my sleeve and asked, “Would you like to play football now?”
“Well thank you, young man, for the offer but I think I have taken up enough of your dad’s time and I need to go somewhere.” I turned back to Rory. “Thank you, Rory. I really appreciate it, and feel free to have a word with the Big Man upstairs for me.”
“I will, Toby.”
I got up and said my goodbyes to Rory’s family.
“Where are you going?” enquired Gemma.
“I’m going to see my family. There’s something important I need to tell them.”
20
“Now, Toby, you know you’re meant to give forty-eight hours’ notice before you call an official family meeting,” quipped Dad. “This better be good.”
I had run, well, part run, part walked (my fitness wasn’t that good yet) straight from Rory to Mu
m and Dad’s. Mum, Dad and Jess were all in, as was Jez, which I didn’t mind as he might be an ally in what I had to, yes had to, say. I knew in my heart that I needed to use the momentum from Rory’s chat to talk to my family.
He was whispering all the way there, but my resolve was fuelled by inspiration supplied by Rory. I was willing myself on, I was a man on a mission. He was furiously trying to distract me with all his familiar tricks but my rational mind was staging a rear-guard action. Rory had reacted positively to what I had told him so why wouldn’t my family?
We had all gathered in the front room. Jess and Jez sat together on the couch with Mum and Dad in their respective favourite chairs. I was standing in front of them as if on a stage. Or maybe in the dock.
I swallowed hard and then began. “This isn’t going to be easy for me, and maybe not for you either, and all I ask is you be open-minded. It’s something that I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I just didn’t know how to.”
“Oh, I knew it! You’re coming out, aren’t you?” exclaimed Jess excitedly.
Mum and Dad exchanged glances then Dad shifted in his chair and with a neutral expression said, “I hope you didn’t think I would judge you for this, son. I’m proud of you and I’m glad you’ve found what makes you happy.”
“Okay, so, just to be clear, I’m not coming out, but thanks for the support, Dad.” He was supportive though, which was a good sign. “And Mum, don’t worry, I’m not pregnant and I’m not rushing off to climb Kilimanjaro or Everest or anything like that. The thing is…I’ll get straight to it…erm…” I scratched the back of my neck and felt my face starting to flush. “There’s no easy way of saying it…I’ve, erm, been suffering with some…mental health issues.”