Learning to make a fire.

World Mental Health Day.

It’s World Mental Health Day. (Well, it was yesterday, but I needed to prioritise my mental health and only post this today).

I’ve felt quite moved by it most of today and I’ve been trying to find the right wording about the “why” to that. I think it’s because it’s the thing I’ve dedicated my life to. And it’s not the thing I thought I would. But it’s the thing that I’m so deeply grateful that I have, and that I continue to.

I went into medical school thinking that I wanted to be a paediatrician. Paediatricians are automatically revered, right? You are looking after sick kids. Patch Adams. It was the medical dream. But then it wasn’t. Patch Adams is also the essence of that, isn’t it? The mental health within the beauty and revere of Medicine. And it remains in Medicine. And it remains in most things. The shadow and the pain and the mental health within all the beauty and revere of life.

I chose mental health for many reasons, but the core of it all has been my own mental health journey. My diagnosis of a Generalised Anxiety Disorder, and the experience I have had with it all across the course of my life. The debilitating panic, to the illuminated wonder of self discovery and understanding, the starting, and working of psychiatric medication, and the interactions, both good and bad, that I have had with mental health professionals along the way. Therapy has become a home for me. Mental health has become ingrained in the blueprint of who I am. And practicing within its realms has been one of the biggest gifts of my life.

I am a storyteller at heart. And my patients have, and continue to, gift me with the stories of their lives. They gift me with their vulnerabilities, their struggles, their hurts, their pains, and they allow me into their worlds during what often is, the dark nights of their souls. A time when few people are allowed through the door. And I am allowed right into the house, to the fireplace. And it’s in that fireplace where they trust me enough to light a fire.

I learnt to light fires during a very hard period of my life. I was staying in an AirBnb and it was Winter. The owner had gifted me two walls filled with firewood. I promised myself I would learn to light a fire. At first, it took mostly firelightersand the spark went out without any wood lighting. Eventually, the wood took, and it kept that fireplace warm for hours. It empowered me. And it helped me to learn to trust in myself again.

For patients, in the beginning, I am the firelighter. I help keep the fire of hope alive in the times of true despair. Eventually, they become the wood and they keep burning themselves, with empowerment, and trust, and hope.

To be able to be there to witness that reminds me, time and time and time again, that there is always hope. Even when you can’t see it. Even when I’m the one keeping the fire alive. Eventually, you will see it. Eventually, you will see it. Eventually, you will be it.

You have every bravery that you need to take the first step towards looking after your mental health. Go for it, darling.

All my love,

Jess