I’ve been out of hospital for a number of weeks now. As many of you know, I was suddenly admitted into psychiatric care at the end of May, spending roughly seven weeks on Succoth Ward in Lochgilphead. It was a necessary admission which undoubtedly saved me from the ravages of the deep depression I was suffering. As ever I’m deeply grateful for the care and attention I received from the community mental health team, in particular the crisis intervention folks, and ultimately the staff on the psychiatric ward. I had left things rather late in seeking help and when I did, all the stops were pulled out to see me right and I’m deeply grateful for this.

Now I’m home, my recovery isn’t being left to chance and I receive regular attention from the local GP and the new community psychiatric nurse on the Isle of Mull. I cannot fault any aspect of the care I’m receiving. I’m pleased to say too, the new anti-depressant medication I’ve been prescribed is working well and I’m not suffering any side affects at all. I think this is the first medication for depression I’ve taken which has had a noticeable impact on shifting my low mood. I won’t say what it is because this information I want to keep personal.

Life on the ward was as I expected it to be and it did me the world of good to take a step away from regular living for a significant length of time. The greatest benefit is the palpable sense of safety I experience the moment I enter the ward and the door locks behind me. The seemingly impossible weight of fighting the urge to complete my suicide is lifted and suddenly I’m able to fully concentrate on overcoming the desolation of the illness I’m suffering. I was not well at all. I think as I age, so my depression interludes become fiercer. This bout of depression was also the first time I felt I was mentally ill, rather than experience my depressions as an expression of my psychological frailty and inadequacy. There was something organic about this episode because it emerged from deep within me rather than from an external trigger or life circumstance. Needless to say, the symptoms were all too unpleasantly familiar. I kept a daily journal during this admission and this entry somewhat explains what I was experiencing during the first few weeks of my stay.

“My desire to die is strong this morning. I want to end this inner turmoil and hatred I feel, once and for all. I’m tired - so very tired. I have no energy left to keep fighting this illness. I’m tired of referring to it as an illness with the following words, it will pass and I will recover again. I’m done with listening to this fact over and over again. The words I hear sound so glib and at times so plastic. I feel myself I am so plastic and unreal. The desire to drift off into the sea is so incredibly strong within me. I’m not frightened by this and think of how pleasant a death it would be. I remember so vividly how this felt when I jumped off the ferry. I felt I belonged to the sea and hold no fear for my gradual death through hypothermia.”

While I struggled with these deeply dark thoughts and feelings, I knew I was safe on the ward and there was no intention on my part to act out. I simply waded my way through the morass of the illness, aching for the moment the glimmers of recovery began to shine forth. It seemed to take a long while before these appeared but when they did, the transformation was remarkable. I’ve never been one to sit and wait for recovery to occur. I’ve always held the notion this is a process which requires my full participation and compliance with the medical protocols presented to me. In my opinion, there is little to be gained through non-compliance and a suspicious outlook. I trust the professionalism of all the staff from my psychiatrist through the various levels of the teams involved in my care. This is not to say I find it easy to communicate with everyone and there are those who I feel closer to than others. However, I firmly believe everyone working on the ward or in the external teams has my best interests at heart and I value this.

I’m not a gregarious ward participant and prefer to keep my own company when I can. There have been previous hospital admissions where I made friends with other patients, but on this occasion I found I kept my own company. As with everyone else on the ward, I appreciated we were each there for our own reasons and as such, respected the privacy and needs of each individual. We are a tight community on the ward where the nature of our conditions creates a level of intimacy not replicated in the outside world. We share our vulnerability and equally experience the vulnerability of others. I actually view this as a privilege and I believe this helps me become more accepting of others behaviour in all aspects of life. There can be times when this is a challenge on the ward, when outward behaviour can be alarming, disturbing or simply annoying. Nevertheless, even these moments are more readily accepted with the simplest response of removing myself from the situation and not allowing myself to be sucked into high energy which might be occurring. I value how the staff generally leave us to manage our style of community only intervening if a situation is really becoming untenable for all.

The key to my recovery on the ward is keeping myself busy and sticking to a self-imposed regimented routine. This does two things. Firstly, it prevents me from becoming introverted and indulging in harmful introspective thinking. Secondly, it helps the time pass by, so much so that the days begin to blend with subtle ease into each other. Of course there are times when time seems to drag or even stand still, but on the whole, I rarely struggled with boredom. I devoured easy to read ‘whodunnit’ books, puzzle books and rediscovered my creativity with writing my journal and this time, writing screeds about last year’s kayaking journey. I was never stuck for something to do and apart from my early days on the ward, I very rarely slept during the day. There is also a sense of safety in a regulated routine and this was invaluable for me too.

Setting targets for myself was useful too. I found myself determined to lose weight while in hospital and I’m pleased to say I managed to reduce my weight by nine kilograms during my time there. This required considerable will power to resist the delicious lunchtime puddings, the copious tea time biscuits and the supper time racks of hot buttered toast.

Eventually the tide turned in my favour, as I knew deep down it would. Here’s an entry in my journal.

“A great review yesterday. All is leading in the right direction and I’ll be going home soon. This is all very exciting! I realise now I’m ready to get back home and get back to living. I know I’ll be nervous and I have concerns about being isolated again. However, I’m growing in realistic determination that all will be well and I will be reinvigorated and renewed. I’m feeling much better and stronger, my thoughts much clearer and positive. I have all but stopped thinking of suicide which is a really big positive for me. I want to use the rest of my time on the ward to prepare for getting home. I want to create a plan of action to keep me heading in the right direction and keep me safe.”

Another sustaining factor for me was the incredible support I received from family, friends and the thousands of people who follow my social media channels. I was truly heartened by the genuinely warm comments and words of encouragement, support and love. Equally, I loved receiving cards, letters and gifts from people I have yet to meet for real. In this day and age, it’s a commitment to use the postal services to make contact and I really appreciated the effort folks made in this regard. It continues to concern me I do not show sufficient appreciation for the support I receive from my social media community and I hope writing this, goes some way to emphasising the true value I receive from everyone.

During the final couple of weeks on the ward, I put my mind to life beyond hospital. I realised there would be a period of adjustment when the regimented safety of the ward would be replaced with the unambiguous freedom of home life. I understood the need for me to have focuses onto which I could place the energy and motivation I had rediscovered in hospital. It wouldn’t do if I returned home without some structures to work within. With this in mind, I decided to place my energy into projects I’d considered after completing my year long kayaking journey but hadn’t yet made headway with.

Completing the book about this incredible journey and experience is at the top of the list and I feel a sense of confidence in seeing this to fruition. While on the ward, I’d managed to hand write copious anecdotes which I’m pleased with and in doing so, I think I’ve discovered how I want to tell my story.

I will be establishing a charitable foundation too. This will be known as the “Lifeafloat Foundation”. It will be a grant making charity for people over the age of fifty, who are seeking adventure in their lives as a means for personal growth. Particular emphasis will be given to those struggling with poor mental health and other life challenging situations. My intention is to provide grants which range from enabling the purchase of a pair of boots to funding ambitious adventures. I intend to establish a network of employed advisors and mentors who will offer assistance and wisdom to anyone who may need this, to assist them realise their adventurous ventures. In addition, I would like the foundation to offer workshops and training events in all matters adventurous. The motivation for establishing this foundation stems from a desire to give something in return from the privilege I’ve been honoured to enjoy as an adventurer myself. Additionally, I’m a passionate advocate for the power of adventure incorporated with a meaningful immersion in wild landscapes, to facilitate personal awareness and positive change in peoples’ lives.

I’ve researched in detail the requirements for establishing a charity, registered in Scotland and will be approaching key (and important to me) people I’ve identified as possible Trustees. Once the Trustee group is established, I will begin the process of registering the charitable foundation here in Scotland through the OSCR, Scottish Charity Register. There are many intricacies to address before I make the Foundation totally public and I’m confident these will be in place by the close of 2024.

My determined intention to establish the foundation leads into my plan for my next big adventure beginning on 1st January 2025 - “The Four Corners”. This is where I walk and wild camp, from the southern most point of mainland Scotland to the northern most point via the eastern point, the centre of mainland Scotland and the western most point. The route I’ve planned will be just over one thousand miles. The primary purpose of this adventure will be to launch the Lifeafloat Foundation and to raise funds to enable it to begin operating in 2025. I think this adventure will be perfect to highlight the potential of the charity. Equally I will continue to raise awareness about mental health matters, living a full life despite the rigours of mental distress and the all important message concerning suicide prevention. The concept of this venture occurred to me before my admission into hospital but the real planning for it took place by my bedside on the ward, with the maps I bought for the purpose.

I’ve returned home motivated to keep myself meaningfully busy. My shed of creativity is bulging at the seams with projects I’m keen to develop. I will be returning to making jewellery with pure silver and beach combed items. I have taught myself how to make paper and have ideas of what I can do with this. I am also very excited to have my mono-printing artwork accepted for display and sale at a local gallery here in Tobermory and will be continuing to throw myself heart and soul into creating more art pieces. I have begun to kayak again and I have plans for overnight journeys. I want to return to creating YouTube films for my channel there too.

The key to all of this will be keeping my feet firmly on the ground and not expecting too much of myself. I know full well how easy it is for me to chastise myself for under achieving because I’ve taken on too much. Above all, I’m looking forward to leading a full and rewarding life once more. However, I’m also aware the recovery pathway is not a simple linear one and there will be setbacks along the way. I’m realistic enough to prepare myself for these moments and I’m hopeful I will have the sense to accept the self-care I can offer myself and seek extra assistance if I require it. Indeed, I will continue to regularly meet with my CPN and attend appointments with my psychiatrist, to ensure my recovery is balanced and attainable.

Finally, I want to close this blog entry with an apology. So many of you have kindly and warmly reached out to me and I’ve been selfishly tardy in not replying to you. While I was very ill, I withdrew deeply into myself. This is an excuse, I know, and I hope as I begin to regain my inner strength, I will become attentive to others again. My sense of self and a belief I hold worth continues to be depleted. This is not to say this will remain the case because I’m working hard to regain a modicum of self-belief and I will find the inclination to engage more and more with the world around me.

Thank you all, so very much for all the support you have given me. I deeply appreciate every word and act of kindness you have shown.

I dedicate this blog to my wife Karen, who has been a constant by my side through all of this and over the past twenty years.