Nearly 20 years ago I had a breakdown. I was approaching 40. I was not in a serious relationship and had no children of my own, but I was devoted to my job; married to it, some said. I was a senior executive at this paper.
I fought and lost a battle with my GP, who wanted to sign me off work. I didn’t feel I’d have a recognisable identity without my job; she said I might struggle to live if I didn’t take a break. I had five months off work. Sleep evaded me, eating felt a battle not worth winning, a psychiatrist made house calls every week, I found it almost impossible to leave my home. If only I had acted, sought help at work, before the total slide began.
Earlier this month, the Health and Safety Executive (HSE) announced that, for the first time, work-related stress anxiety or depression accounts for over half of all working days lost due to ill health in Great Britain. In total, 15.4m working days were lost in 2017-18 as a result, up from 12.5m the previous year. These figures might be shocking but they’re not surprising. My breakdown had a complex cause, but one significant factor was my attitude to work.
None of us go into our jobs as blank slates, we all have emotional scars over which we hope work might neatly stick a plaster – insecurity, feelings of powerlessness, unresolved sibling rivalries. We often hope our jobs will fill otherwise unfillable holes. Therapy, 12 years of it on and off (and, while at the Guardian, scheduled at the crack of dawn so I did not miss a moment of work), has helped me to recognise I needed to be in demand. My unfulfilled maternal instincts were poured into my job and I allowed myself to get sucked dry. I felt there was no way I could tell my colleagues and superiors that I was depressed – I feared being thought of as weak, incapable. It did not occur to me to ask for time off for therapy.
Now I’m a psychotherapist. Not enough has changed. Too many of my patients tell me plainly that they fear being penalised in the workplace if they acknowledge their problems with mental health. Many, including the managing directors and chief executives I treat, seem to make up excuses for leaving work for their sessions. The most popular session times are early mornings and evenings – these get booked up very quickly.
It saddens me that corporations that invest in cut-price or free gym memberships to encourage a healthy workforce do not think of having a conversation about the equivalent for good mental health, despite the HSE figures and those that calculate the days lost to business in the billions of pounds.
It is evident to me that we are still in need of meaningful mental health support in all types of workplaces. HR departments need to be properly trained in recognising depression and addiction, in responding to the breakdown of relationships and bereavement and, importantly, know where to turn for trustworthy support. Everyone should have the right to attend therapy during their working day if required. An admission of vulnerability by senior figures in a workplace has the potential to foster more open dialogue about mental health and to help reduce the stigma associated with it. Each personal experience shared can help.
In a recent interview, Kamal Ahmed, the BBC’s then economics editor, now editorial director with responsibility for hundreds of staff, talked about how therapy had helped him remain afloat during a difficult divorce. Such honesty about the usefulness of therapy will do much to encourage others to seek support without fear of careers being put at risk as a consequence.
A friend has just sent me an email addressed to all humanities staff at Glasgow University from the head of school. It contains a practical list of ways staff can foster good mental health, including taking all annual leave, managing emails, availing themselves of an online “mentally healthy workplace” course and “online peer and professional support by trained counsellors”, and proposing not just lunch breaks away from desks but also “walking meetings”. It was refreshingly heartfelt, lacking in cynicism and, I hope, unlikely to provoke the hard-pressed staff who are responsible for so many students’ mental health.
Maybe we’re on the cusp of a velvet revolution. But, from the therapist’s chair, it feels as if there is still a long way to go. Perhaps the story of “Jack”, a patient of mine, tells it best. Following months on sick leave with a work stress-related breakdown, Jack returned to his City firm for a scheduled meeting to discuss the details of a phased return to work. He found crossing the threshold quite traumatic after his long absence, and was surprised to be greeted by the HR director seemingly on her way out of her office rather than waiting to welcome him in. Her coat was over her arm. “Oh,” she said. “I can’t talk now, you’ll have to reschedule. I’ve got to get to my mental health training.” We can only hope she learned something useful when she got there.