What's Normal Anyway? Celebrities' Own Stories of Mental Illness (21 page)

On this issue, I actually think the public were well ahead of politicians. I got lovely emails from people after the debate, just extraordinary. I have been desperately moved by the emails I have received from parents, partners, spouses, and people with OCD. I wish you could read them, there are lines in those emails which are totally inspirational. Like one person who wrote to me saying he's almost there and when his OCD sparks up he says: ‘Just you behave yourself.' Do you know what I mean? Try saying that to yourself: ‘Just you behave yourself.' There's lots of lovely stuff in there but perhaps the most lovely email was: ‘Dear Charles, better a fruitcake than a plain old sponge.' Absolutely uplifting stuff, extraordinary stuff, just extraordinary, from all people, from those right at the top of their professions, from all walks of life. Fascinating.

I think, interestingly, the media were ready to move on as well, I think the appetite for moving on was there. I mean, the media have been remarkable. I think the national papers and the tabloids have thought: ‘You know what, the penny's dropping. We have been improving in the way we've treated mental health in the last five years, but we've still not been great, we've been using fairly inappropriate headlines. And we thought our readers liked that, but actually our readers are laughing nervously along with us while, in fact, not liking it inside at all. It's actually making them feel rather uncomfortable.' Do you understand what I'm saying? So maybe the media is thinking: ‘We might be out of step with our readership on this.'

Somebody said to me in an interview afterwards: ‘Have you ever been discriminated against?' And I have no idea. I hope not, I hope not, but you don't know. If one were to leave parliament I think there are clauses in certain employment contracts that say you can be dismissed if you develop mental health problems, which I shall be looking at very, very closely. You know, that worries me, I don't like that. There
is
discrimination out there and there
is
prejudice and we're going to be addressing that. I mean, I have no special right not to be discriminated against – but why
would
you discriminate, wouldn't it be ridiculous? This isn't meant to sound pompous, but politically I think I've been a moderate success: I'm Vice Chairman of the 1922 Committee, I'm on the board of the Party, I'm competent on my feet speaking. And I've done all this with OCD. So what would have changed since I went public with it?

What I want people to understand is that there are lots of people out there doing great jobs who actually have problems that they can manage and get on with it. Or they may have problems that they can't manage but the outside world doesn't know that because they're doing . . . because they're working hard. In fact, I would probably say that if employers were to look closely, some of their most high-functioning, dedicated, focused staff probably have – or are more likely to have – a mental health problem than perhaps the middle of the pack performers. Basically because you might always be trying to compensate. Do you see what I mean? You might be more driven.

It's certainly made me a better member of parliament. It's definitely made me stronger, much stronger, and more resilient. Because, you know, when you've beaten yourself up constantly, and then other people beat you up, one can smile and say: ‘Yeah, well, okay, tell me something that I haven't already said to myself ten times today.' It's also improved my ability to cut through the bullshit. It's made me more independent minded: I'm pretty unbiddable, I'm pretty unwhippable. If there's something I believe is wrong or I don't want to do it, then I'm invariably going to say it's wrong and not do it. As long as I don't hurt and upset people, that's good enough for me. And you know what? I'm pretty sure that's because for the past thirty-one years I've been constantly doing deals with myself, constantly negotiating a balance with this OCD. And so at the end of the day, there's part of my life – my professional life – where I'm not willing to compromise too much.

Does that make sense? It's a hard one this, I don't know how you're going to project this. Let's just try that one again. I'll tell you what, I'm so – happy's such a weak word – I'm so pleased and delighted and honoured to be a backbench member of parliament. It's been a struggle to get here at times and now that I
am
here I'm going to do the right thing for me – I don't ever want to betray myself and do something I don't believe in. And I'm sure that may be connected to OCD, you know? In a sense, you're already exhausted when you get here and you're like: ‘Now I'm here, to hell with it, I'm going to do it the way I want to do it.' So it's probably made me truer to myself.

***

Now I think I've been given a gift. For thirty-one years I've had this unwelcome house guest that, at times, has made me feel very, very, very depressed and anxious. But at the end of the day – and this is where I make the point that I have a great life in so many ways – if actually this small hardship I've had to endure for thirty-one years has prepared me to campaign on mental health, as I've done in the last seven years, then in some ways it's a blessing. It's a blessing if it's put me in a position to do what I did along with other very brave members of parliament . . . no, very
useful
members of parliament, what we did wasn't
brave
, it was
useful
. Fighting for your country is brave, working at A&E is brave, being on the front line as a police officer in a riot is brave, what we did was useful. But if it allowed me to do that then actually maybe it
is
a blessing. Because I think in some ways OCD has shaped my personality, so actually, and I don't want to sound pompous – and I can always sound pompous when I'm trying not to – the lovely thing is that it's allowed me to pursue this interest in mental health.

It's allowed me to feel I've made a contribution, and we all want to make a contribution. When I became an MP somebody said to me: ‘Oh, the Chamber of the House of Commons is a waste of time', you know: ‘Nobody listens to what goes on in the Chamber. It's what we do outside the Chamber that counts.' You've seen this, you follow politics. ‘Backbencher MPs, there's not really anything much you can get done.' And I said: ‘Hmm, we'll see about that', and in a sense there's a slight ego thing here, to prove people wrong, to show that actually parliament matters. I have a blinding faith in politics to do good and that's what drives me. We are so lucky as members of parliament that we have this amazing place where, if you work hard, you can make a difference to an area as important as mental health.

And there is no magic solution to this but I think we need to get to a stage where people feel more able to get help. And help doesn't have to be pharmaceutical, help doesn't necessarily have to be professional, help could be a place where you can sit down with a group of people and have a chat. You know, we have Alcoholics Anonymous, so surely we could have something where people could go when they're feeling a bit blue, a bit down, where they can go and chat with other people, some of whom have got much better. You know, this is a societal problem, as I said in my speech, and we just need to find ways of helping people confront their problems, talk about their problems, and cross back into mainstream society with people who can sort of shepherd them there and hold their hand in times of difficulty. It's not impossible. I'd love to see something like Alcoholics Anonymous around mental health.

I know that I'm lucky in that I've got a fantastic support network, I've got a job I love – a vocation, not a job, a vocation I love – a fantastic family, I'm comfortably off. So even when it's really bad, even when it's really, really bad, you kind of know it's going to get better. Does that make sense? That may not make you feel great but you sort of feel there is hope. What worries me are the people who don't have all the support networks around them – who are isolated, alone, financially stressed, living in a difficult environment. It must be very difficult for them; I feel greatly for them because then it must just be dreadful. You know, possibly each day worse than the one before. It must be so desperately lonely and perhaps frightening . . . no, definitely frightening. So that is something that worries me greatly, it really does.

And it's made worse because we have a very heightened fear of mental illness in this country. I'm not an anthropologist or sociologist but you could probably talk to them and you would see a heightened societal fear of mental illness. If you're in the herd – yes? – and someone is acting in a way that is different to the rest of the herd – and I mean this is real amateur, shamateur stuff – I think we're probably conditioned to be nervous about people behaving perhaps slightly irrationally. I don't know why. But because we're sentient – is sentient the right word? – and clever we need to get over that. Because we have emotion, we have understanding, we have insight, we need to get over that. There is no excuse. We don't want to walk away from people with mental illness, we want to walk towards them and embrace them, and we've really got to do that. In the Bible, Jesus reaches out to people who we would clearly now recognise as having mental health problems. So we've got to be much more Good Samaritan about it.

Having OCD myself, I've probably developed levels of empathy I wouldn't have otherwise had. I've been visited by so many people in my constituency who desperately want you to understand their mental health problems, because these are really very serious problems. And before ‘coming out' in the debate I'd often, and it sounds cheesy, want to take their hand, as I'm quite a tactile person, and say: ‘Listen, I really
do
understand.' Do you know what I mean? But now I can be more honest, perhaps, in how I approach people, and give them more of the reassurance that they're looking for. Because I have an inadequate – in the sense that my own experience is minor – but privileged insight into some of their fears and concerns and what they are going through. So I can honestly say that they're not out there alone.

Although I'm not perfect: there's a lot of people out there who think I'm a total bastard and will continue to do so. Let's be honest, I've had a lot of lovely letters from people saying: ‘I'd never vote for you because you're a Tory, but thank you.' And at the end of the day, I'm a member of parliament with political views that many people won't like. So what I'm not expecting is everyone to just say: ‘What a lovely guy.' Like you almost become like a pet, stroked on the head. Look, it's a part of me. Sometimes people will say: ‘What a decent guy', and others will say: ‘What a four-letter-man that Walker is.' Do you see what I mean? It will not prevent me from doing things politically that people don't like. You know, in politics you're charged with making difficult decisions – such as putting 3p on a litre of petrol – and you have to stand by those decisions. So it doesn't neuter you, it doesn't make you soppy, it just means that there's part of me, there are areas of my professional life, where I really think I have a good understanding of the problems and complexities faced by people.

Having said that, I've been on trains and someone very disturbed – someone probably with schizophrenia or who was psychotic – has been on the train and every instinct is to move away from them, it just is. I recognise this weakness in myself as well, I admit that freely, and actually you need to talk to yourself, you need to say: ‘Sort yourself out Walker.' We've got to get over it, and it's a struggle, and we need to find ways to ensure that people who are very ill do get the support that they need, to either recover indefinitely or at least manage their illness and recognise the signs when it's coming on so they can seek help without being frightened. I think we need to address that by doing what parliament has now done, by what people in the media are doing: Alastair Campbell, Ruby Wax. Because by talking about it more we make it more everyday, more mainstream, and a lot of that fear will fall away. And that's what I was trying to do when I stood up in that debate and, judging by the feedback I've had, I've helped people – or
it
helped, what we did – and we're going to move the debate along.

***

So I'd like to say, if you're suffering from mental ill health: things are going to improve. I'm as confident as I can be that things are going to improve – that people are going to feel less frightened, less ashamed, in three to five years' time, than they do now, maybe even as early as next year. But things
are
going to change: the mood's changing, the media's changing, and parliament's now more comfortable with this. I have had letters from the Prime Minister and the leader of the opposition, both saying: ‘This is where we need to be, this is good stuff, the debate was excellent.' So it's not going to happen overnight but it is beginning to happen, so that's a really good thing and that's something for people to hold on to.

I would also say to people suffering from mental health problems: you are certainly not alone, there is nothing to be ashamed of, and I and many others are thinking about you. We may not be able to reach all of you – we certainly can't reach all of you – but there are some really, really good strong people out there, both inside the NHS and outside the NHS, and in the voluntary sector, who want to make this a better place for you. We want to ensure that you can deal with your ill health earlier and sooner and get back to having a fulfilled, happy life, because being fulfilled in your life is a good thing. And the more people start to talk about these issues and become less frightened about them, the more people will get treated early and be back in the community doing the things they love to do: going out with their mates, having a job, socialising at work – all the fun stuff.