Theresa May has decided to make mental health a priority, and this week announced more help, particularly for young people who fall ill. But there simply isn’t enough money for adequate treatment at the moment, whether it be talking therapies or hospital beds. Perhaps the Prime Minister plans to release more money in the future. If she doesn’t, the government’s commitment to putting mental health on an equal footing with physical health will be impossible to realise.
The health system is disheartening. But there are many things that have cheered me as I’ve recovered. Like the journalist unsure about depression a few years ago, society has recently become kinder. A friend who had taken time off in 2010 for anxiety told me normally loving people had instructed her to ‘snap out of it’. Today that would be unimaginable. My friends and family have done everything they possibly can to help me, including biting their tongue when I cancelled on them for the third time, or leaving work early to look after me.
Cricketer Graeme Fowler, who has written candidly about his depression, and his granddaughter Zara Cricketer Graeme Fowler, who has written candidly about his depression, and his granddaughter Zara CREDIT: GRAEME FOWLER Children now grow up understanding depression. My partner’s eldest daughter, who shows compassion and emotional intelligence far beyond her eight years, had spotted something was up. John explained I had an illness that made me sad for no reason. She asked what she could do to help.
"Why don’t you ask how she’s doing out of 10?" he suggested, remembering the grading system that cricketer Graeme Fowler devised for his own children when he was depressed. "If she says 10, then she’s fine and well enough to play with you. But if it’s a 1 or a 2, then maybe she just needs a hug and a bit of time on her own." This has worked a treat: "out of 10?" is now her own fun secret code - and she really is very good at giving hugs.
My mind started working again in late November. I found myself becoming less anxious and being able to concentrate on writing again. The GP devised a plan for coming back which involved me adding a few hours each week. Each stage would feel easy, rather than a cold-water shock to the system by returning to the crazy working weeks I was quite used to but which would be impossible when I was still a bit, well, crazy.
Isabel Hardman, far left, on The Andrew Marr Show Isabel Hardman, far left, on The Andrew Marr Show CREDIT: JEFF OVERS/BBC My employers told me to take my time - telling me that they missed my work but that everything was going fine without me. But coming back has not been easy. I have needed far more reassurance than I thought I would: every day I have worried I am not doing enough, or that colleagues don’t need me any more.
I hope I can return the kindness The Spectator has shown me - but the reward they will certainly get is a member of staff who returns to work for good, because she has been given the time to recover from an injury to her mind.
My illness showed me how very badly things are going wrong in mental health care Isabel Hardman I usually try to avoid writing pieces about my personal life. But my own experience of mental illness has given me an insight into the way government policy is working: the reason I came into journalism. My illness showed me how very badly things are going wrong in mental health care. The more I saw, the more I wanted to return to work so I could write about these problems more. And that, thanks to a kinder society, very kind employers, and my own random luck in being able to afford the right treatment, is exactly what I’m now able to do once again.
Isabel Hardman’s fee for this piece has been donated to Heads Together - a campaign to highlight the work of eight mental health charities, and one of the Telegraph’s three chosen charities for our 2016 Christmas appeal. For details of how to donate, please call the charity phone line on 0151 284 1927 or visit telegraph.charitiestrust.org