Still working through it: my story for World Mental Health Day
At Eat Street, we are honest. We tell it how it is. We talk.
But there’s something that has affected my mental health for the last few years that I haven’t shared online. I’d like to talk more about it, but the truth is, I’m still trying to cope with it. I still think about it every day.
For World Mental Health Day, I want to share a little of that story.
Over the last four years, my relationships with the family I grew up in have broken down, leading to complete estrangement from my siblings and parents. I’ve had to make some incredibly hard decisions — decisions I never imagined making. But I needed to choose my own life, my health and the family Laurel and I are building together.
For a long time, I let it dominate my life and my thoughts. The stress felt relentless, and there were times when I felt physically unwell as well as mentally overwhelmed. I put on weight that I struggled to shift, and at a time when I was already finding things difficult, I felt increasingly isolated.
At the start of this year, I was told I had chronic liver disease linked to my colitis. Alongside everything else, the uncertainty was frightening. While I was having MRI scans and other investigations, my mind went straight to the worst possible outcome. I felt convinced they would find tumours everywhere. I thought I was going to die.
A breathwork session helped me find some perspective. It gave me space to begin reframing what I’d been through and how I was thinking about it, and to start prioritising my health and my family.
It didn’t make everything disappear. But being confronted with the possibility of my own mortality, however terrified I felt, helped me recognise my own value and how much I matter to the family around me.
Then there was Aslan
We lost our Maine Coon last year. He was only five, and losing him was one of the biggest shocks and hardest things I’ve faced.
I can’t really explain what he meant to me. We were soulmates. He was a comfort when I was struggling, helped me stay present and kept me calm. Just being with him made things feel easier.
I’m still lost without him.
I’m still working my way through all of this, and it has affected our whole family. I’ve always struggled with confidence, but I’m getting better. There are a few changes I’ve made that have helped, and others I’m still working on:
– Spending less time on my phone. It’s still more than I’d like, but my screen-time report shows less social media and more purposeful use.
– Setting boundaries, including blocking people when I need to. That can be difficult, especially when they’re people you care about. But I’m learning that I’m allowed to protect my own peace.
– Going to therapy every fortnight. Having a regular space to talk honestly and work through what I’m feeling is an important part of looking after myself.
– Focusing on what really matters. Shutting out some of the noise and giving more of my attention to the people and things I love.
– Playing pool most weeks. Two hours when I’m present, with no demands on me as a dad or business owner. Just me, doing something I enjoy.
– Taking a quiet moment in Aslan’s spot. Sometimes I sit with my coffee on the decking, where his catio used to be, and stop for a while.
