Mental Health Childhood
1970’s
As I sit here sipping on my strong afternoon coffee, having just munched on rather nice orange from the fridge. I find myself sitting here reflecting on the past, on my mental health journey that goes back to childhood. I have deciding to start writing about my experiences in my blog, for others to read. If it’s one thing I have learnt with kidney failure and with mental health, talking about you feelings has helped, talking to those with a shared commonality. Every time I do reflect and look back, I am often glad I grew up when I did, but it’s with a mixed view. As I open up TikTok and a video pops up with the music from the 70’s, it takes me right back. But I am also reminded of how difficult it was for me as well back then.
The Summer of 1976
Even the weather reports when it’s hot, will often take us back to 1976 and that summer of 76. It was hot, I still remember the standpipes. Jumping out of an oak tree into a big pile of straw we had collected in the wheat field. Or, skateboarding, cycling and go karting, seeing how quickly we could go on our boards. We had no fear, it was all about how quick you could go, how high you could go on the swings. Any talk of mental health, didn’t seem to exist back then. But then I reflect on why, because any talk of emotion was shut down. If you cried, the response would be ‘don’t turn on the water works’ or ‘chin up’. I do however, acknowledge getting on with it has helped me as well.
First Memory of Hospital
As 1977 came around and everyone was talking about Jaws and Towering Inferno. I was at the General Hospital in Leicester, putting an Airfix model together. Any other memories of what happened are now a little vague. My Dad would have to carry me sometimes down the stairs, although at the time I had little understanding of why. The different colour’s of the Nurses uniforms is what I remember in the hospital. It was really after that stay in hospital and all the appointments that followed, that is what sticks with me now. I found I had an uncanny knack of remembering all my doctors and the little mannerisms they had.
The hospital visits continued for many months, which then turned into years. I missed so much of school and had to catch up, or at least try to so many times. Falling behind on my work, I found humour to be a great way of not being left out at school. I struggled in class and would often get told off for talking too much. Punishment back in the 70’s was a cane on your backside, or the ruler across your hand. But I was also very creative, making crosswords and making board games for the class.
Looking back, it’s fair to say now, the punishments did me a lot of damage, as I remember how it made me feel. Because as I continued to fall behind, my father would become angry with my reports, and I would also get hit at home as well. The punishments were all so regimented as well. The cane at school was always 10 whips of the cane and the ruler 10 smacks across the hand. Even the term smacking, it was as if they didn’t want to use the term hit, when hitting is the more accurate word.
My step mother, would often come back on a Friday having had too much to drink. What was even worse back them was my mum used to drive when drinking as well, which nearly killed my brother once. Both my parents were heavy drinkers and something my mother mentioned about my father, when I met up with her.
What became apparent to me at around 12 years old, that I was fascinated by characters and individuals. I used to try and copy their voice, as well as trying to copy my teachers voices. It became a bit of an obsession, an alter ego if you like, or more than likely an escape. Watching a TV series called Taxi, I remembered that I wanted to be an actor. It was watching Christopher Lloyd and his character; I was completely memorized by him. The sound of the voice and how actors changed them. But of course, upon telling my father about acting, was like throwing a red rag at a bull. But every performer I have met over the years, has shared very similar experiences.
To be or not to be
So, actor was never going to happen and by now anything I did never seemed to please my dad. At school I still had the ability to make people laugh and was the only one of two pupils that could pull themselves up on the apparatus in the school hall. So, I just had to fit in the best I could, but missing so much school meant it was difficult. I was very energetic and would often hit a tennis ball at the school gym wall after school when out playing. Looking back, I just did not want to be at home, I did not like school much either. My health and all those appointments had such a knock on effect on me, that I took into adulthood.
Labels are for products, not for people.
The 1970’s represent the start of this recurring ‘why me’ in terms of why does this keep happening to me. What I have learnt with my mental health, where it all started and why. Everything makes sense to me now, as I unpack my life and the suitcases I was carrying around. Also, it made me question that one way is not the only way. Learnt experience and lived experience, is just not the same, but of course, its about whatever works for the individual. In my view, we should not be afraid to challenge psychiatry or psychology and the labels they give to us. labels are for products, not for people. Its ok to be different, to be creative, because we are all individuals. Lived experience has made me realise, the labels and the masking of our problems, can make it worse.
My generation, or generation x as we are often referered too, are only just opening up on mental health. When you look back, its no wonder we never opened up sooner. Its as if we were indoctrinated a certain way, never sharing our feelings. A lot has changed since the 70’s, which is great to see. Our childrens generation are much more open than we were. I hope this continues and more open up on mental health, looking at where is comes from.
Thank you for taking the time to read this – Stuart.