One More Cup of Coffee: A Few Thoughts on Knowledge Transfer and Lifelong Learning

Learning to drink a coffee and learning to code is the same thing. — Waren Gonzaga

This post was inspired by a conversation with a friend who works at my local coffee shop. It was a busy Saturday morning and she was on her own after a colleague had phoned in sick. In between customers we got talking about team working, staff turnover, and the challenges of bringing new team members up to speed. Despite never having worked in hospitality, I could relate to what she was saying. It got me thinking about my experience of training and being trained, the things I learn relatively easily, and those I struggle to master. Working in a busy coffee shop would definitely fall into the latter category!

KT in the Workplace

My friend was amused that I couldn’t immediately recall my job title, but Intermediate Information Technology Service Manager reveals little about what I actually do. I explained that I’m part of a team responsible for ensuring the computer systems we support are up when they should be up and doing what they should be doing.

Until roughly a year ago I led a small team. It had been pretty stable for a long time in terms of staff and responsibilities. We knew each other well. We knew our respective strengths and weaknesses. We understood the applications we supported, and what we needed to do to keep them working as they should. After several of these applications were retired, my team was merged into another so that members of that team could move on pursue other opportunities.

All this means I’ve experienced the “new people needing to learn stuff” dynamic from both sides. I’ve had to learn the technologies, techniques, and processes involved in supporting applications that were totally new to me. I then found myself sharing that newly acquired knowledge and experience with two new colleagues who joined us from outside the organisation. Terms vary, but in my workplace this is known as knowledge transfer, or KT. Some of it involves formal courses or online learning, but much is on-the-job training conducted face-to-face, either in person or via video calls.

Things I Learn Well

This approach works well for me. I’m better at picking up new skills when they’re demonstrated to me, rather than being presented with masses of reading material, or sent on courses that relate poorly to the work in hand. Having things demonstrated by people currently in the role allows me to ask questions, take notes, and then begin taking on the tasks myself.

Having specific goals motivates me to learn. Many years ago I taught myself HTML, CSS, Javascript, and other web technologies so I could design and build websites for myself and others. I learned Photoshop to a high standard in order to process my digital photographs. I used these skills to design a website and promotional leaflets for an animal rescue centre I supported.

For the past year and a half I’ve been teaching myself Teeline shorthand. I’ve always been fascinated by different modes of writing, including the Tengwar letter forms created by fantasy author JRR Tolkien. I use Teeline to capture personal notes and blogging ideas, although I’m not yet sufficiently proficient to use it for taking meeting minutes at work.

At work, I enjoy the creative challenge of application design and development. I had little such opportunity in recent years, because the applications I supported were nearing the end of their life. Moving to a new team has reawakened my interest in problem solving and coding. I’m currently teaching myself unix shell scripting. I’m using a mixture of resources. These include adapting scripts written by past members of the team, discussing ideas with colleagues who know more about scripting than I ever will, YouTube channels, online tutorials — and a lot of Google searches to troubleshoot and refine my code.

I’m also exploring generative AI applications such as chatGPT. I’m interested in chatGPT’s potential as a learning/teaching resource, as well as its writing capabilities. I recently published a blog post generated by chatGPT in response to a prompt regarding identity and mental health. The risks and benefits of AI are beyond the scope of this article, but I was intrigued by this quotation by Yejin Choi, Professor of Computer Science at the University of Washington, in her TED Talk Why AI Is Incredibly Smart — and Shockingly Stupid.

These language models do acquire a vast amount of knowledge, but they do so as a byproduct as opposed to [it being a] direct learning objective. Now in contrast, human learning is never about predicting which word comes next, but it’s really about making sense of the world and learning how the world works.

Making sense of the world and how it works may be beyond the current scope of AI (and many humans for that matter) but I believe it has immense potential in developing solutions to practical problems. This is already true in relation to programming. It might appear a lazy approach (witness a recent social media meme: “I’m a programmer” “Which programming languages do you use?” “ChatGPT.”) but AI does much more than spit out cut-and-paste code fragments. Formulating the prompts helps me clarify my understanding of the task in hand. ChatGPT fully comments and explains its solutions which helps me learn. Furthermore, I can ask it to refine its solutions or suggest alternatives. In a very real sense (and I use the term deliberately) it’s like having a human tutor sitting beside me.

Things I Don’t Find Easy to Learn

The skills I’ve talked about so far have been mostly technology and process-related. I’m much less proficient at what are called soft or people skills; anything to do with leading, organising, or managing groups or teams. I recently wrote a blog post about anxiety for Mental Health Awareness Week 2023. In doing so, I realised that one the reasons I get anxious is that I’m poor at organising things that involve other people. I relate well one-to-one or in (very) small groups, but I struggle with larger groups or teams. This is reflected in the kind of support network I have.

I discharged my team leader role well enough, but I had a small team of three or four people, all of whom were skilled at what they did and worked together well. I handled the team’s workload but had little need to manage them personally or to moderate between them. I led a group of fellow Mental Health First Aiders for a time. I loved the conversations and discussions, but became increasingly anxious as the monthly meetings came and went. I stepped back from the role, although I remain a Mental Health First Aider. At the time I felt I was failing my fellow MHFAs and myself, but in hindsight it was the right decision.

I’ve undertaken training over the years to improve my interpersonal skills, including courses in Nonviolent Communication (NVC) and an online workshop led by Brene Brown. At work, I took the Living Leader training and was mentored for a time by my organisation’s CEO. NVC improved my one-to-one skills but otherwise these attempts have largely been unsuccessful. The main reason was that I had little idea what I wanted to be or achieve. I explored this in Connection, Creativity and Challenge: In Search of My First Best Destiny.

I have exasperated my workplace mentor (sorry, Loveday!), various bosses (apologies especially to you, Judith!), and colleagues, but I still have no sense of direction. A recent change of employer may open new opportunities, but only if I can figure out what I want.

Two years on, I still have little idea what I want to do or be. That said, moving to a new team — and relinquishing any managerial responsibilities — has given me the opportunity to focus on my technical skills. Accepting I’m not a natural leader (and have no desire to become one) has been liberating.

Mental Health Learning

I may not be cut out to lead a team of Mental Health First Aiders, but I value the MHFA training I’ve undertaken, including refresher training earlier this year. I’ve taken a number of other courses and workshops related to mental health, suicide awareness and prevention. If you’re interested, check our listing of Online Suicide Awareness Courses and Podcasts. My original MHFA and ASIST training was classroom based but in general I prefer online, self-paced courses, irrespective of the subject matter.

The best mental health awareness training of all, though, is talking with people with lived experience. It’s not their responsibility to educate me, but I’m hugely grateful to Fran and other friends who over the years have shared how their lives are impacted by mental and physical health conditions. To the extent I’ve learned anything, it’s down to their patience and trust. The benefits aren’t limited to mental health awareness, as I describe in our book High Tide, Low Tide: The Caring Friend’s Guide to Bipolar Disorder.

I am a better person for knowing Fran. I have a greater understanding of my strengths, values, weaknesses, and vulnerabilities than ever before. I have learned more about mental and invisible illness, suicidal thinking, stigma, determination, courage, and responsibility since we became friends than in the fifty years before we met. [...] I have greatly expanded my circle of friends, met people who feel safe sharing their stories in response to mine, and learned how it feels to offer my skills and experience in the service of others. I have grown — and continue to grow — as a friend and as a man.

Those words are as true now as they were written. I grow and learn from each and every friendship and connection. These days I’m much better at navigating difficulties with people when they arise, as they inevitably do. I’m also far less insecure and clingy when friendships change, or even end.

Sharing the Wisdom

Fran and I have always been keen to share what we’ve learned about managing a mutually rewarding and supportive friendship where one person lives with mental illness. That was the motivation for writing our book and the reason we continue to share on our blog and social media. My friend Emma McDade expressed this beautifully in relation to her recent guest post on disassociation. “I’m still learning how to live as myself,” she told me. “I want to be able to help others learn about it all, too.”

In the workplace, knowledge transfer isn’t always straightforward. It requires a willingness to learn, and patience on the part of both trainer and trainee. It also needs time to be set aside, which can be a challenge when you’re short-staffed and need to keep the show on the road. That’s something I recognise in my working environment. Secondary tasks such as documentation and knowledge transfer often take second place to supporting the live service.

When circumstances permit, however, I enjoy the opportunity to share my skills and knowledge. As well as the satisfaction of helping a colleague learn something new, I almost always come away with a deeper understanding of whatever we were discussing. Fran and I learned a great deal in the process of writing our book. The same applies to our blog posts and other work in the mental health arena.

This is sometimes that’s often overlooked. Helping others learn takes time and effort, and it can seem a chore with little to commend it. It’s not uncommon to find people reluctant to share what they know, hoarding skills and knowledge to consolidate their perceived expert status. Learning is not a zero sum game, however. Approached in the right way, both teacher and student benefit.

Whether it’s unix scripting, mental health, Teeline shorthand, or something else entirely, I hope the urge to keep learning new things never leaves me. Who knows, maybe my friend will teach me how to make a proper cup of coffee!

Over to You

In this article I’ve described some things I find relatively easy to learn, and others I struggle to master. What do you find easy to learn? How do you learn best? Do you enjoy learning new skills, or find it hard work? Do you feel confident sharing your skills and knowledge with others? Do you find it a pleasure or a bind? Fran and I would love to hear from you, either in the comments below or via our contact page.

 

Image by Gabriella Clare Marino at Unsplash.

 

The Stress Bucket and Other Models That Help Me Talk about Mental Health

Talking about mental health can be difficult and I wrote recently about some of the reasons we may not want to. Part of the problem can be that we lack the words to adequately describe what’s going on for us when we’re struggling. I was reminded of this a few weeks ago when I completed a Mental Health First Aid Refresher course. The training covered several models of mental health and wellbeing, including the mental health continuum and stress container (or stress bucket). Models such as these can never completely describe the personal and often subtle details of what we’re going through, but they can provide a starting point and some common language with which to explore and share our feelings. In this article I’ll cover a number of models I find helpful when talking about mental health, plus two relating to supportive friendships.

The Stress Bucket

Also known as the stress container this model was originally developed in 2002 by Professor Alison Brabban and Dr Douglas Turkington. There’s a useful overview in this article on managing stress published by Lincoln University.

When we’re stressed it’s natural to focus on the events, situations, and triggers that led us into that state. These stressors can be difficult to avoid or eliminate, however, leaving us feeling hopeless or overwhelmed, with no option but struggle through as best we can until — hopefully — things ease up. The stress bucket model reminds us we have other options.

The model invites us to imagine we each have a stress container or bucket. The size of the bucket varies from person to person, and can also vary from time to time throughout our lives. Stressful events and situations flow into the bucket, starting to fill it up. These stressors might include problems with our relationships, friendships, work, or money; anything that adds to our feeling stressed and anxious. If we have a relatively large bucket, it might take a while before it starts to overflow, but no matter how small or large it is, our bucket will fill up unless we do something about it.

The most obvious approach is to address the source of the stress. If we can resolve the issues then the flow of stress into our bucket will reduce or stop altogether. That’s not always possible, though, at least in the short term. And even if we resolve one stressful situation, there’s likely to be another potentially stressful situation not too far behind. It’s possible to become more resilient, which we can think of as increasing the size of our stress bucket. Without being able to let stress out, though, any size bucket will fill up eventually.

We can let stress out in various ways. Think of this as making holes in the bottom of the bucket, or opening taps to let the stress out. Healthy taps include exercise, meditation, journaling, listening to music, or spending quality time with friends; anything that helps you relax, de-stress, and regain a sense of balance. Less helpful strategies include excessive use of alcohol or drugs, or attempting to ignore or avoid the issues. These may provide temporary relief but tend to feed additional stresses back into our bucket.

I like this model because it helps me focus on what I can change, and how I can best manage stressful situations without becoming overwhelmed or resorting to unhealthy coping strategies. I particularly like the taps imagery. It reminds me I can choose which taps I want to open, how much, and for how long. My taps include journaling, blogging, and spending time with friends.

Spoon Theory

Spoon theory was coined by Christine Miserandino in an article first published in 2003 at But You Don’t Look Sick. The article recounts a conversation with a friend in which Christine shares her experience living with lupus. She passes her friend a handful of teaspoons and explains that each spoon represents one unit of energy which must be relinquished as she goes through her day-to-day activities. The limited — and fixed — number of spoons reflects her need to continuously monitor her resources and manage her activities accordingly.

Although originally devised to explain what it’s like to live with the autoimmune disease lupus, spoon theory has been adopted by people living with a wide range of chronic physical and mental health conditions, characterised by limited resources of energy and focus.

It reminds me that activities that require little advance thought or planning for me, such as cooking a meal or taking a shower, might place major demands on someone who lives with illness or disability. It’s more than simply feeling tired. Someone with few remaining spoons for that day has to mete out their resources with extreme care. They might need to forsake activities or cancel arrangements in order to accomplish tasks that are more important or essential.

Although I wasn’t aware of spoon theory at the time, I recall Fran describing what it was like for her to try and make a sandwich when in the midst of a crushing depressive episode. “Oftentimes,” she said, “I would only get as far as opening a can of tuna and eating it from the can rather than bothering with getting mayonnaise and bread, to save the energy needed to wash the dishes. All energy had to be minutely calculated.”

Sine Curves of Mood, Pain, and Energy

Fran and I describe several models in our book High Tide, Low Tide: The Caring Friend’s Guide to Bipolar Disorder. One I’ve found especially helpful originated in an interview Fran gave on TV before we met. In conversation with Jennifer Rooks on MPBN, she described the ever-changing nature of her illnesses.

My chronic fatigue syndrome operates like this . . . [Fran draws an up and down sine wave in the air.] My bipolar depression operates like this . . . [She draws a second wave.] And sometimes they go like this . . . [She draws two synchronised waves.] And sometimes they go like this . . . [Fran draws two waves out of phase, so that one peaks while the other bottoms out.] It’s really quite a bizarre experience.

We’d been friends no more than a few weeks when I first watched the interview. Fran’s simple analogy of interwoven waves of pain, fatigue, depression, and mania helped me grasp what it’s like for her to live with multiple, independent yet overlapping, illnesses.

Waves on the Shore

Waves of a different kind feature in the model another friend uses to explore her relationship with depression. As she described for our book:

My analogy is a sunny beach. The sea represents my depression. If I’m in the water out of my depth I’m not feeling so good. If I’m knee deep I am getting better. If I’m walking on the beach with waves lapping at my feet it’s much better. If I’m on the dunes looking back at the sea view at sunset I am happy and content, at peace for a while.

The imagery reminds me of King Canute who demonstrated to his fawning couriers that he had no power over the incoming tide. Like Canute, our friend knows she cannot hold back the tide of depression by willpower alone. Her model nonetheless shows how important it is to take responsibility for what she can influence. She can alter her situation by swimming for shore or stepping onto dry land. In practical terms, this might mean changing aspects of her lifestyle and behaviour, taking prescribed medication, or employing therapies or other coping strategies.

Relentless Army Model of Suicidal Thinking

It can be difficult to convey what we’re going through to someone with no equivalent experience. I’ve never been suicidal but Fran described one aspect of her suicidal ideation in ways that I could understand.

Fran once described these [suicidal] thoughts as a relentless marching army. Each thought must be acknowledged individually, picked up, and set aside before she can take on the next. The assault repeats again and again, sometimes for hours. It is exhausting, and the danger is that weariness and desperation may lead Fran to harm herself, if only to stem the onslaught.

On other occasions she likened her experience to playing the video game Space Invaders, where the goal is to shoot down wave after wave of advancing aliens. It’s a powerful analogy, the difference being that failing to defeat the army of dangerous thoughts could cost Fran far more than a lost game.

Return to Down: My Baseline Mood Model

So far, I’ve described models which help me appreciate what it’s like for other people. What about when I want to talk about how things are for me? I’ve shared a few personal models and analogies here on our blog. One of the most helpful arose from an insight I had about my baseline mood slipping from positive to low.

I’ve always believed my emotional and mental health baseline to be essentially positive and healthy. Things might happen at times to upset my equilibrium, but after a shorter or longer period I return to my place of stability and wholeness. Lately, though, this model has been turned on its head. Instead of events and situations disturbing me from an essentially healthy baseline, it feels as though my baseline itself has shifted downwards. Positive events and situations such as meeting up with a friend, or feedback on one of my blog posts — essentially any of the things I was grateful for last week — can lift me up, lighten my mood, or provide an alternative focus for a while. But, once the distraction has passed, I’m pulled back to this low mood baseline.

There’s a parallel here with the rubber band analogy Fran uses to describe the “rebound crash of pain and fatigue” she experiences with her fibromyalgia if she exercises or exerts herself too much. I’ve yet to fully work through what it means for me, but it helps me navigate some of the (occasional) ups and (more persistent) downs I experience. It’s also helped in describing how I’m feeling to other people.

Two Models of Friendship

Our books and blog focus on mental health and supportive friendships. It’s no surprise, then, that I’m interested in models that relate to personal relationships. I’ll close with two I find helpful when working through issues with friends or exploring my need for connection and support.

In Dissolving the Circle I described my former model of friendship: an inner circle of close friends but almost no one outside of that circle. This served me for many years but led to a situation where I found it difficult to make new friends or handle the loss of people from within the circle. It took time but I eventually managed to dismantle that model and arrive at something much healthier.

In my world now there is no Inner Circle: just me and — everybody else! Of course, some people are closer to me than others, some relationships are stronger than others, but there is no circle, no event horizon. It’s been a revelation. Everything is dynamic, rich, colourful. And I feel free. I am free. I’m free to strike up a conversation one day with someone at the next table to me in a cafe, who seems to be having a rough time. I’m free to chat holiday plans with a couple I bump into most weekends. I’m free to sign up for a course without stressing that I won’t know anyone or whether I will be able to engage. I’m free to meet a new friend for coffee, to enjoy her company and the conversation, and for us to part without needing to know when we will next get together.

I explored supportive friendships in more detail in Spokesfriends and Insular Groups: What Kind of Support Network Do You Have? The distinction is between having a network of people who mostly know one another (one or more insular groups) and having friends who do not know one another well or socialise together (spokesfriends).

If I drew my network out on paper there’d be a dot in the middle representing me, with lines radiating out to each of my supportive friends, like the spokes of a wheel. [...] This kind of network is more likely if your friends live far apart, as mine do, although that’s not necessarily the case. A few of my “spokesfriends” have met, in person or online, but none of them know each other well or socialise.

In contrast, Fran has several small groups of friends, most of whom live locally to her. Within each group, people know one another and call or meet up more or less regularly. Fran’s support network could be drawn as a number of overlapping circles, plus me and a couple of others who aren’t in any of her groups of mutual friends.

It’s not a question of one type of network being better than the other, and in practice most people will have a combination of the two types. Exploring the two types of network, though, helps me grasp the different dynamics that can arise within and between friends. It’s a model I’ve used when discussing friendship and support with Fran and other friends.

Over to You

In this article I’ve described a number of models relating to mental health and supportive friendships. Do any of them resonate with you? Which ones and why? What models or analogies have helped you understand your health situation, or that of friends and loved ones? Fran and I would love to hear your thoughts, either in the comments below or via our contact page.

 

Photo by Lubomirkin at Unsplash.

 

How to Give Mental Health Help and Advice to People You Don't Know

Awareness campaigns such as Time to Talk Day encourage us to reach out for help if we’re struggling, and to be there for others who reach out to us. I’ve discussed some of the reasons people may not want to talk, but what about when they do? You might feel confident talking with a friend or loved one about their mental health, but what about someone you hardly know at all? In this post I share how I approach such requests, because it can be very different from talking about mental health with people I know.

Little or No Backstory

The most obvious difference is that I only know what the person has chosen to share with me. With a friend or loved one there’s a history and a relationship to draw on. A friend will choose to talk to me based on their trust in our relationship and in me personally. When someone approaches me out of the blue there’s very little to provide that broader context.

In the workplace I might be contacted in my role as a Mental Health First Aider. The person is necessarily a colleague but rarely someone I’ve worked with previously or closely. They work for the same organisation but could be based anywhere in the country. They may have heard my name mentioned by others, seen my e-mail signature which mentions my role as a Mental Health First Aider, or chosen me from the organisation’s list of MHFAs.

Outside work, the person might have found me through social media, our book, or this blog. Occasionally, I might have been suggested by a mutual friend. However it happens, they are approaching me based on their perception of my personality, knowledge, and experience. It helps if I know how or why they chose me, but that’s less important than the fact that they did, and their belief that I can help in some way.

ALGEE: The Mental Health First Aid Framework

Workplace conversations are conducted within the Mental Health First Aid framework, but I also find it useful when responding to other requests for help and advice. Known by its acronym ALGEE, the MHFA action plan has five steps which can be used in any order.

• A: Approach, assess for risk of suicide or harm.
• L: Listen nonjudgmentally.
• G: Give reassurance and information.
• E: Encourage appropriate professional help.
• E: Encourage self-help and other support strategies.

You can find more detail about the ALGEE action plan on the Mental Health First Aid website. The MHFA framework reminds me to pay attention to my responsibilities regarding safeguarding and escalation in the case of suspected crisis situations, and to maintain healthy boundaries.

The Initial Approach

With friends, mental health topics tend to arise naturally during regular conversation, whether that’s face-to-face, in chat, or on a voice or video call. If it’s more urgent, a text or message along the lines of “Something’s happened, can we talk?” will be enough.

It’s different with people I don’t know personally. In the workplace, the request is usually by e-mail or Teams chat, asking if I’m free to have a Mental Health First Aid conversation. The initial approach might be from the person concerned or their colleague or manager. There may be a little context or background, but that’s not always the case. We’ll decide a mutually convenient time, and meet face-to-face or via Teams depending on our location and availability. More often than not, I arrive for the meeting or open the call with little idea of what is about to be shared or asked of me.

Outside work, requests from people I don’t know arrive by e-mail or instant message. These tend to be longer and more detailed than workplace approaches. They generally describe the situation the person is in and what kind of help or advice they’re looking for.

Assessing the Urgency of the Request

No matter how it arrives, the first and most important priority is to take the request for assistance seriously. I may not be able to respond immediately but I’ll read the message at the earliest opportunity and assess how urgent it seems to be. If the situation appears urgent or critical, I respond straight away, signposting to relevant services, crisis or support lines.

If it doesn’t appear urgent, I think about when I’ll have time to give it the care and attention it deserves. The person will be looking for a response but it’s better for them to wait a little longer than receive something from me that appears rushed, or dismissive of their situation and concerns. If necessary, I might reply to say I’ll get back to them within the next day or so. That way, they know I’ve received their request and that I’m not going to ignore it.

Responsibility and Respect

I begin by reminding myself it’s both a responsibility and a privilege to be asked for help, advice, or support. I treat the person and their request with respect, recognising the courage it takes to reach out to someone you’ve never met and don’t know at all. Whether I can help them or not, they deserve to feel I’ve taken them and their request seriously.

What Am I Being Asked?

It’s important to assess what I’m being asked to provide. Does this person want someone to hear their story, or are they asking for practical help or advice? I was reminded of this distinction during one workplace Mental Health First Aid conversation. The person told me they were happy to talk about their situation all day, but they were looking for practical help and suggestions, not just someone to listen.

Advice, Information, and Signposting

I’m wary about giving advice, especially on the basis of limited information. Where possible I want to offer something practical, helpful, and positive. That often includes signposting to relevant resources, or suggesting next steps they might take. I’ve written previously about taking and offering advice, including whether I am good at taking my own advice.

If I feel an online resource would be helpful, I’ll take the time to find direct links to the websites or pages. This makes it as simple as possible for the person to check them out and decide if they’re relevant to their situation. Wherever feasible, I suggest support links and resources that are geographically relevant. Hub of Hope is a great starting point for anyone in the UK, offering crisis and support links based on your home location.

Clarity and Focus

It’s important to respond concisely and clearly to the points or questions the person raised, without rambling or going into too much detail. It’s natural to try and fill in the gaps but I resist the temptation to make assumptions or draw conclusions about the person’s situation. I find it helps to focus on the actual words they’ve used in their message or e-mail and proceed on the basis they meant precisely what they said: no more and no less.

In a face-to-face conversation it’s easy to check my understanding or ask them to expand a little on what they’ve said. This is harder where I’ve been approached in an e-mail. Where necessary, I might ask for further information or clarification, or simply state in my reply any conclusions I’ve drawn. This gives them the opportunity to consider my suggestions in context, and where necessary to correct any misundersandings.

Never Diagnose or Suggest Treatment

It might seem obvious but I make no attempt to diagnose the person’s mental health condition or suggest specific treatments. If they disclose that they or the person they’re concerned about has received a clinical diagnosis, it’s reasonable to take that into account, but it’s no part of my role to diagnose or recommend treatment. That’s solely the responsibility of the person’s doctor or clinician, and I would always advise they seek relevant professional advice.

Thank Yous and Follow Ups

I close by thanking them for approaching me, and invite them to follow up with me if they’d like to. I generally receive a reply thanking me for taking time to reply to their request. They sometimes expand a little based on what I said or suggested. On occasion, it’s clear that my suggestions were not as relevant or useful as I’d hoped, but that’s inevitable when working with limited information.

Self-care and Confidentiality

An important lesson from my MHFA training is the importance of considering my own boundaries and wellbeing. It’s rare for me to need support following a mental health conversation but I can draw on the network of Mental Health First Aiders at work, and the wider MHFA community. If necessary, I’d turn to my circle of friends for support. In either case, I take the privacy of the person who approached me for help, and the details of what they shared with me, very seriously. I would only divulge details if I felt the person was at risk.

Links and Resources

If you’re interested in finding out more about becoming a Mental Health First Aider, the websites of Mental Health First Aid England and Mental Health First Aid (US) are a great place to start. For international crisis lines and support organisations, check out our resources page. If you are in the UK, the Hub of Hope website and app can signpost relevant resources local to you.

Over to You

In this article I’ve described how I approach requests for mental health help and support from people I don’t know. Have you ever approached someone you didn’t know for help or advice? How did it go? Have you offered help and support to someone you didn’t previously know? Did you feel confident about being able to help them? Fran and I would love to hear from you, either in the comments below or via our contact page.

 

Photo by Timon Studler at Unsplash.

Talk. Listen. Change Lives. Time to Talk Day 2022

I’d like to share a few thoughts for Time to Talk Day, which this year falls on Thursday 3 February. The event was launched in 2014 by Time to Change, a campaign run in England to end mental health stigma and discrimination. This year’s event is organised by Mind and Rethink Mental Illness in partnership with Co-Op. As described on the event’s website, “Time to Talk Day is the nation’s biggest mental health conversation. It’s the day that friends, families, communities, and workplaces come together to talk, listen and change lives.”

I volunteered with Time to Change from February 2016 until the campaign closed in March 2021. I’ve shared my experiences previously, including a look-back piece written in April last year. You can read some of my previous #TimeToTalkDay posts here:

• What Does Having a Conversation about Mental Health Look Like?
• Would You Rather?
• Thank You for Not Assuming I’m OK

In a recent intranet post written for Brew Monday, one of the lead Mental Health First Aiders where I work remarked that starting a conversation can be a game-changer for the person needing support. I agree whole-heartedly but I’d go a step further. It can also be a game-changer for the person holding space for the conversation to take place. Based on my experience as a Time to Change volunteer, as a Mental Health First Aider, and in my personal life, I see this kind of conversation as a win-win opportunity for growth and understanding. We all benefit, on both a personal and a wider societal level, from engaging in honest and open conversations about mental health.

I didn’t always appreciate this. I’ll be sixty-one this year, and for the first fifty years of my life I understood very little about what it means to live with mental illness. This wasn’t from lack of opportunity. As I’ve described previously, I actively isolated myself from what others were going through – family and friends included. Mostly, this was because I was terrified of engaging and overwhelmed by what I perceived as the depth of their need for support. I lost many opportunities to help people I cared about but didn’t know how to care for.

My stoic attitude helped me deal with my own ill health, but left me incapable of responding with compassion to the needs of others. I mistakenly believed that caring for someone meant making their pain and hurt go away. It would be many years before I learned to open my heart and simply be there for those I care about. I am still learning.

What opened my eyes was a chance meeting online in May 2011 on the social media page of someone who was having a really hard time. A woman called Fran Houston who I didn’t know at all challenged me about a comment I’d posted to our mutual friend. It was the start of a friendship which has had a profound effect on my understanding of mental health and my ability to support others.

As most readers know, Fran lives in the United States with bipolar disorder, chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS/ME), and fibromyalgia. She has other friends and a good professional team, but despite living three thousand miles away, I quickly became – and remain – her primary support and carer. Our book High Tide, Low Tide: The Caring Friend’s Guide to Bipolar Disorder was published in 2013 as a guide for others who want to know how to support someone living with mental health issues.

The most important thing I’ve learned with Fran is how vital it is to keep the channels of communication open. Whether you live on opposite sides of the world or on the other side of the street, a commitment to staying in touch is the key to any successful relationship, and the cornerstone of caring support. This has never been more important than in the past two years, as we’ve all navigated the Covid-19 pandemic, in many cases physically separated for long periods from those we care about. My long-distance friendship with Fran undoubtedly helped me keep in touch with other friends when face-to-face meetings were impossible.

Time to Talk Day, Brew Monday, Bell Let’s Talk Day, and other wellbeing events encourage us to open up to one another and take better care of our needs. I was inspired last year by a work session organised for International Men’s Day to make an appointment with my doctor for the first time in thirty years. Nevertheless, such initiatives are not without criticism.

Some people reject awareness campaigns as trivialising conditions they live with all the time, not just on a few officially designated days in the year. Others point to professional services which struggle to meet the needs of those encouraged to seek help. Talking with friends, family, and colleagues can be hugely beneficial and protective – Fran has told me many times she would not still be here without my support – but it’s no substitute for professional help and treatment when that’s called for. Fran needs her doctor, psychiatrist, and the rest of her professional team too. The same is true of other friends, who live with a range of physical and mental health conditions. Some of these questions are addressed on the Time to Talk Day page at Mind.

Something else can get lost in the “talk to someone if you’re struggling” rhetoric. Despite the best endeavours of Time to Change and similar campaigns around the world, stigma and discrimination are still experienced by many people. Opening up to someone can be a scary thing to do. It requires a great deal of trust, and there’s no guarantee of a helpful or supportive response.

As important as all that is, Time to Talk Day isn’t just about encouraging people to talk about their problems. Sharing our stories can bring hope and help others feel less alone. There’s a tendency to feel isolated when things aren’t going well, and it helps to realise others are going through something similar or have done so in the past. That’s the primary motivation behind our book and weekly blog posts.

Other people’s stories can also open our eyes to their lived experience. My friend Aimee Wilson blogs at I’m Not Disordered about her life with borderline personality disorder (BPD, also known as emotionally unstable personality disorder, EUPD). I’ve learned so much from Aimee’s blog. It’s helped me be the friend she needs me to be and to support her more effectively. This includes understanding that there are times my presence is neither needed nor helpful.

I don’t have a mental health diagnosis, but there are times when I struggle to cope with what’s going on. Over the past year or so I’ve found this happening more and more. I explore this in my personal diary and in public blog posts, but talking about how I’m feeling with others is also incredibly valuable. That hasn’t always been easy, not least because most of my close friendships grew on the basis that I was the relatively stable and well person in the relationship. Admitting that I need support too, and asking for it, requires me to trust not only the other person, but that our friendship is strong enough to handle the shift in dynamics. In all cases, this has proven to be the case. If anything, my friendships are stronger because of it.

I believe passionately that all of us — you, me, everyone — can make a difference. Fran knows this first-hand, and I can do no better than close by sharing her words from the epilogue to our book.

Friends like Marty who are willing to be with me in the darkness are the ones who give me light. Yes, there are medications. Yes, there is therapy. Yes, there is personal responsibility. But caring friendship is the best medicine of all. Then life begins to have purpose. [...] Stick around. It may not be easy, but you can help someone make a life worth living. Maybe even save a life.

I hope you’ve found my thoughts and experiences of interest, and that they’ll encourage you to have more conversations about mental health and wellbeing. If you or someone you know need urgent support, contact professional services or a relevant crisis line. Check our Resources page for crisis and support line links.

 

Photo by LinkedIn Sales Solutions on Unsplash

 

Helping People Helps You Too (But Don't Lose Sight of Your Needs)

“We rise by lifting others” — Robert Ingersoll

I’ve written quite a bit over the past year or so about how low I get at times, including how my baseline mood has dropped significantly from where it used to be. There are periods when I doubt the value of what I do, both in the workplace and in other aspects of my life. That includes my connections, friendships, and relationships; my writing; and other work in the mental health arena.

When I’m in this kind of “what’s the point?” slump, as I have been recently, nothing seems worth the effort because it feels like nothing is going to make a difference. It’s tempting to just give up on things, or at least contemplate doing so. The scary thing is how easily slumps like this can creep up on you, and how tough it can be to shake those self-defeating thoughts and feelings. The good news is, they can and do shift, and sometimes it’s the little things that make a difference.

I was reminded of this last week. I’d like to share a few of the details because it helps to remember how much difference a word or two of thanks, an offer of help, or indeed a request for help can make.

Checking my social media one morning last week, I saw I’d been tagged in a Facebook group run by bp Magazine which focuses on support for the loved ones of people living with bipolar disorder. In response to a request for advice on how to help a friend, a member I’ve spoken to before suggested the Gum on My Shoe Facebook page that Fran and I maintain, our blog, and our book High Tide, Low Tide: The Caring Friend’s Guide to Bipolar Disorder. They went on to say our work was the first they’d encountered that wasn’t from the perspective of a spouse or parent, that they’d learned a lot from it, and that their relationship with their loved one would not be what it is today without my help. Needless to say, this meant a huge amount, and was (and is) profoundly validating. I hope our book and other resources might help the person who asked for guidance, and others who are in need.

Something similar occurred the next day. I’d posted a link to an article of mine titled Supportive Disengagement: How to Be There for Your Friend When They Need Space. The same person who’d recommended our book replied to thank me. “I needed to read this today,” she said. “Thank you.”

Two opportunities to be of help and support arose later that day. One was from a friend who was in need of practical assistance. I was more than happy to say yes to her request, especially as I was the only person available to do so. The second involved keeping a friend company on chat and encouraging them as they moved into their day and began working through the things they needed to accomplish. I was proud of my friend’s achievements but didn’t realise just how valuable my presence had been until she thanked me later.

The mutuality of support came up in a conversation with Fran in which she shared how much she’d valued the chance to spend a couple of days with a close friend. I suggested that the time she’d spent with her friend had been a gift to them both, and would be something they’d remember for a long time.

As valuable as it can be to help others, it’s important to pay attention to your own needs, and I was reminded of this too last week. One specific thing that’s been on my mind recently is whether I need to step back from my workplace role as a Mental Health First Aider. It’s not something I want to do and I’ve felt I’d be letting myself and others down if I were to step down for even a short while. On the other hand, I’ve felt very drained of late — physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I mentioned this to one of my fellow MHFAs. She replied with such empathy and compassion that I was moved deeply. She understood. Two things she said resonated with me in particular. The first recognised how valuable and validating it can be to offer support to others: “Helping people is a satisfaction which is sometimes unmeasurable, it is also a blessing to be able to offer that support.” She’s wise enough and experienced enough to realise how much supporting others can take out of us at times, and how important it is to pay attention to our needs. As she pointed out, “[k]nowing the difference between loving ourselves and validating ourselves is sometimes a very hard thin line.” I’ve yet to decide about my MHFA role, but her words reminded me it’s ok if I need to take a break, whether for a short time or more permanently.

My mood hasn’t lifted dramatically as a result of these exchanges, and I still have my doubts and uncertainties about what I ought to be focusing on. The comments and conversations I’ve described, though, did help me move through what I was feeling, and gave me some degree of reassurance that I’m not totally on the wrong path. As I said to Fran when I told her about the Facebook group comments, “Little things like this are good to see. They help me feel I’m doing something useful.”

 

Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash.

 

Would You Rather? Time to Talk Day 2020

Time to Talk Day 2020 is Thursday February 6, 2020.

Time to Change, the UK’s largest mental health campaign challenging stigma and discrimination has chosen the party game “Would you rather?” as the focus of this year’s Time to Talk Day.

Choose talk, change lives.

Mental health problems affect one in four of us, yet too many people are made to feel isolated, ashamed and worthless because of this.

Time to Talk Day encourages everyone to be more open about mental health – to talk, to listen, to change lives.

We know that talking about mental health can feel awkward, but it doesn’t have to. This year, we’re using the popular game ‘Would you rather?’ to help break the ice and get the conversation flowing.

I have a confession to make. I’d never heard of, let alone played, this “popular game” until I started writing this article. Maybe I don’t get invited to the right kind of parties! To save you the trouble and embarrassment of googling it (as I had to!) the game is played by asking a series of questions of the form “Would you rather [do this] or [do that]?”

The questions can be light, deep, funny, silly — whatever you like. The idea is to get a conversation started in a fun and potentially interesting way. Any number of people can play, individually or in teams. You can even ask and answer the questions on your own, perhaps in a diary or journal. It’s easy to see how this fits the Time to Talk Day idea. The Time to Change website has examples of questions you might use, including:

Would you rather be stuck in a spider’s web or talk to a friend who feels trapped in their thoughts?

Would you rather kiss a jellyfish or talk to a colleague who feels all at sea?

Would you rather have the neck of an ostrich or talk to a friend who’s burying your feelings?

I thought about it and came up with a few of my own. One resonated with me especially. I’ll come back to that in a minute.

I’ve been a Time to Change Champion (the charity’s word for its registered volunteers and supporters) for several years in a personal capacity and co-lead the mental health and well-being team at work. I’m passionate about what we are doing at BPDTS Ltd and proud to have led the initiative to sign the Time to Change Employer Pledge. You can read our pledge on the Time to Change website.

I’m also one of the company’s team of mental health first aiders and it’s here that my Would you rather? question feels most relevant. The mental health first aider role involves being available to colleagues who want to reach out for a chat, information, or signposting to relevant support services.

It’s become one of the most rewarding aspects of my job. I’ll go further. My involvement in the mental health and wellbeing working group has become the single most rewarding aspect of my job, eclipsing the technical role in personal significance. I’m particularly excited to be involved in arranging mental health first aid training for others within the company.

Mental health first aid (MHFA) is certificated training delivered by trainers affiliated to Mental Health First Aid England or equivalent organisations around the world. I’ve described my experience taking the training previously. You can read how it equipped me to work in the mental health arena on the Mental Health First Aid England blog.

A healthy workplace is one which fosters an environment where we all feel able to talk with our peers, team leaders, and management. You don’t need to have completed special training to do this of course, but our mental health first aiders provide confidential points of contact. As I mentioned earlier, we offer confidential conversation, information, and signposting to support services provided within and by the company, as well as external organisations and professionals.

I hope colleagues throughout our organisation feel able to reach out to us without feeling they are imposing on our time or interfering with the techie side of our role. In my case at least, that’s never going to be an issue. There’s literally nothing more important to me than these kind of conversations.

So, what was the question that resonated so strongly with me?

Would you rather [insert any work-related task here] or have a conversation about mental health with a colleague?

I think we know the answer to that one!

 

Get Involved

Time to Talk Day 2020 is Thursday February 6, 2020. To get involved check out the Time to Change website. Share why you’re choosing to talk about mental health by using #TimeToTalk on your social media posts. Follow #TimeToTalk on Twitter and Instagram, and reply to and share posts. Oh, and have fun!

 

My Mental Health Talk for International Women’s Day

Last week I was proud to speak at an event organised for International Women’s Day by the Women in Digital network where I work.

I’d been invited to take part by my friend and colleague Lisa Overall. We agreed on a topic for my talk — how to support a friend who lives with mental illness — based on an article I wrote originally for No Stigmas, “a global non-profit movement utilizing peer-to-peer connections to promote mental wellness and prevent suicide.” The article was subsequently published at The Mighty.

I had given the talk once before, at a Talking FreELY event in 2017, but it is a topic which resonates with many (at The Mighty my article has been “liked” more than 1,200 times) and I was confident it would work for this new audience. The room was filling nicely by the time I arrived. I’d estimate there were close to sixty people there as the event got underway. (It is possible the promise of cake had something to do with the turnout!)

After introductions, things got off to a great start with a presentation on women and mental health by Lois White who leads the mental health awareness team at BPDTS. Like me, Lois is a Mental Health First Aider, and equally passionate about the work we are doing within the company.

After her talk Lois introduced me and took charge of the projector, anticipating almost all of my “next slide, please” moments. (Thank you!) I’ve done a number of public readings and talks in the past few years, but I still get nervous. Fortunately, once I am up there I find myself calming down and easing into things.

I had the script for my talk on my Kindle to keep me on track and on schedule, but I found myself ad-libbing freely. It’s hard to know when you are in front of an audience but it seemed to go well. There were even a few laughs in appropriate places. Lisa told me later I’d had the room in the palm of my hand, so I guess I did okay!

I received some very positive feedback afterwards, which is testament to the relevance of the key message I wanted to get across: that no one is too far away to be cared for or to care; and that with some basic tech and a little imagination we can be there for our friends and loved ones, whether they live on the other side of town or an ocean away.

In the interval I got chatting with a few of the other attendees including Andy Heath who was photographing the event. I couldn’t attend all the sessions but I’m glad I stayed for the next two speakers, who shared what has influenced and motivated their life and career journeys. The message to follow what interests you most and where your passion lies rather than “chasing grades” resonated strongly for me, as did their commitment to remaining open to new challenges and opportunities.

In case anyone is wondering, I didn’t have Fran with me on live video link (maybe next time!) but she messaged me before and after my talk and was very much with me as I shared our story. I even sneaked in a mention or two (or was it three?) of our book. I still feel self-conscious doing that, but a friend told me something this week that really struck home:

You were wondering where you are in the mental health community ... you are a writer, and an adamant and steadfast supporter.

She’s right (thanks, Jen!) As I wrote recently, I have been struggling a lot with my self-confidence of late, unsure in particular of my role and place within the mental health community. My talk, the positive responses to it, and the other speakers at the event helped me reconnect with the idea that I have a voice and a message worth sharing.

For that, and much else, I am grateful for the opportunity to take part. Thank you.

Photo credit: Andy Heath, with permission.

 

Six Things I'd Quite Like to Do in 2017

I’m not big on New Year Resolutions, but here are six things I’d quite like to do in the year ahead.

1. Volunteer with Time to Change

I had a great time last year volunteering for mental health charity Time to Change at Newcastle Mental Health Day (#NCLMHday) in February, and Newcastle Pride in July. At these events, and December’s Festive Networking Event (see this report by Aimee Wilson), I’ve met some amazing people, and can’t wait to continue my connection in 2017.

If you’d like to get involved with Time to Change in any capacity, check out their Champions page.

2. Visit a Pub

Specifically, Wylam Brewery at the Palace of Arts in Newcastle upon Tyne. I first visited the brewery’s new venue last August, on the day of Newcastle’s Fiesta Festival on the Town Moor. The place was heaving and I didn’t stay, but I can’t wait to pay a return visit. The Palace of Arts has a long and interesting history.

3. Fundraise for a Mental Health Charity

I’ve done a few fundraisers, including two zipwire slides for Crisis; the Alzheimer’s Society Memory Walk along Newcastle Quayside; and walking here to support Fran who was doing the NAMI Walk in Maine. I only managed the NAMI Walk last year, but I’m keen to find other mental health fundraising events in 2017. If you know of any, please let me know.

4. See HTLT on a College or University Reading List

Fran and I are very keen to get our book High Tide, Low Tide: The Caring Friend’s Guide to Bipolar Disorder into libraries and onto the reading lists for relevant school, college, or university courses. If you are involved with such courses or programs, or know someone who is, we’d love to hear from you!

5. Bring My Weight Back under 180 Pounds

Since I began taking my weight seriously in July 2012, I’ve seen it fall from 200 lbs to around 175. It remained stable for a while, then began to drift upwards again. Somewhere along the way I stopped caring, and last year my weight rose dramatically to well over 190 lbs. I’ve recently recommitted to caring about my body, and fully intend to return my weight to within healthy limits. Let’s see how it goes!

6. Complete a Mental Health Course

I’ve done several online and classroom courses over the past few years, including Mental Health First Aid (MHFA) and Applied Suicide Intervention Skills Training (ASIST). This year I’d like to develop my experience and skills further. I don’t have anything lined up yet but I’m looking at learning opportunities offered by Recovery College Collective, Time to Change and the NoStigmas advocate training program.

Well that’s it for now. Have you set yourself any goals or resolutions for the new year? I’d love to hear them!

Marty

 

Why Do You Do It?

The following is excerpted from High Tide, Low Tide: The Caring Friend’s Guide to Bipolar Disorder, by Martin Baker and Fran Houston (Nordland Publishing, 2016).

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Why Do You Do It?

People are sometimes surprised how much time Fran and I spend together, and the degree of support I provide. One friend commented, “Realistically, who’s got the time and energy to unfalteringly provide that level of care and dedication to someone outside your immediate family?” It is a valid question, but misses the point a little. Not everyone with mental illness wants or needs the kind of caregiving relationship that works for us. What they almost certainly do want and need are friends they can rely on.

Why is that so important? We all need support and companionship, but people living with mental illness often find friends are in short supply. Changes in mood, energy, and behaviour can strain relationships and leave people isolated precisely when they need help the most. Be the friend who doesn’t walk away when things get rough. It is not always easy for us either, but what began as a private joke captures the essence of commitment.

“You’re stuck with me now, Frannie. I hope you realise that.”

“Like gum on my shoe.”

Someone wrote to us recently, “Your journey as friends reminds us that mental illness doesn’t change what friendship is all about: being there for those we love.” That meant a lot because the reciprocal nature of our relationship is not always recognised. Fran is there for me as much as I am there for her. She is neither a drain on me nor a burden—although she doubts this on occasion.

Fran said to me today, “I don’t get it. Why are you still here?” I told her no matter what is going on, whether she is having a good day or a bad day, whether I am having a good day or a bad day, I never don’t want to be here.

I am a better person for knowing Fran. I have a greater understanding of my strengths, values, weaknesses, and vulnerabilities than ever before. I have learned more about mental and invisible illness, suicidal thinking, stigma, determination, courage, and responsibility since we became friends than in the fifty years before we met. I have explored meditation, Non-violent Communication (NVC), mindfulness, and other techniques that benefit my life enormously.

I have greatly expanded my circle of friends, met people who feel safe sharing their stories in response to mine, and learned how it feels to offer my skills and experience in the service of others. I have grown—and continue to grow—as a friend and as a man. But the most important thing I have gained is our friendship itself. Why do I do it? Because Fran is my best friend and that is what best friends do.

 

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High Tide, Low Tide: The Caring Friend’s Guide to Bipolar Disorder is available at: Amazon.ca | Amazon.com | Amazon.co.jp | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.de | Amazon.es | Amazon.fr | Amazon.it | Barnes & Noble

 

QPR Gatekeeper Training

Following on from my blogs on the excellent Mental Health First Aid (MHFA) and Applied Suicide Intervention Skills Training (ASIST) workshops, I’d like to share my experience of the QPR Gatekeeper course, which I successfully completed online last week.

What is QPR?

QPR Gatekeeper training (the acronym stands for Question, Persuade, Refer) is one of several suicide prevention training programs developed by the QPR Institute.

There is a good summary of the program on their website. The course covers:

• How to Question, Persuade and Refer someone who may be suicidal
• How to get help for yourself or learn more about preventing suicide
• The common causes of suicidal behavior
• The warning signs of suicide
• How to get help for someone in crisis

The course costs $29.95 (approx £12.85) on the QPR website but it is offered for free by some organisations including Hope for Life.

Who is it for?

A Gatekeeper is someone in a position to recognize a crisis and the warning signs that someone may be contemplating suicide. According to the website, Gatekeepers include parents, friends, neighbors, teachers, ministers, doctors, nurses, office supervisors ... pretty much any of us, in fact.

Our mission is to save lives and reduce suicidal behaviors by providing innovative, practical and proven suicide prevention training. We believe that quality education empowers all people, regardless of their background, to make a positive difference in the life of someone they know.

What is it like?

This is a self-paced online course which will take around an hour to complete (you can stop the course and come back to it later). There is a multi-choice test at the end (pass mark 80%). You can review the course modules and retake the exam as many times as necessary.

There is a printable certificate on successful completion, downloadable resources and a free downloadable book, Suicide: The Forever Decision by Paul G. Quinnett (this book also can be downloaded for free from the QPR store page).

Having previously taken the two day Mental Health First Aid (MHFA) and Applied Suicide Intervention Skills Training (ASIST) workshops, I found QPR a valuable refresher and it would be a useful introduction to the subject.

Like ASIST, QPR focuses on recognising that someone may be experiencing suicidal thoughts, and engaging positively with them. Both ASIST and QPR place significant emphasis on confirming whether, in fact, the person is thinking of taking their life, if necessary by asking the question plainly. QPR is clear that it teaches how to recognise and confirm the presence of suicidal thinking, but not how to assess the severity of that risk. Once suicidal thinking has been confirmed (the Question part) the emphasis is on persuading the person to seek help, and referring them on for professional support.

It is hard to put a price on information that could potentially save lives, but I do feel the cost of the course on the QPR website ($29.95, approx £12.85) is high for a short online course and could dissuade people from taking it. For me, the esuicideTALK course by LivingWorks ($20, approx £12.88) offers more for less (but note that some organisations offer the QPR Gatekeeper course for free, including Hope for Life).

Marty

Related programs

The Institue offers a range of specialised courses including:

• Suicide Triage Training
• Suicide Risk Assessment and Management Training
• QPR Training Targeting Alcohol, Drugs, and Suicide
• Online Counseling and Suicide Intervention Specialist
• Counseling Suicidal People: A Therapy of Hope
• Suicide Risk Assessment Competency Certification Exam
• Ethics and Suicide

Useful links

• QPR Institute website: www.qprinstitute.com
• Background information: available as a PDF download, QPR Gatekeeper Training for Suicide Prevention: The Model, Theory and Research by Paul Quinnett offers background information on the QPR program, and suicide prevention in general.

 

Be the Best Yourself You Can Be

Thoughts on World Suicide Prevention Day.

I feel it is important to say that being there for someone who lives with suicidal thoughts and feelings isn’t all about talking them down from a bridge or asking how many pills they took, what they were and how long ago.

In a crisis, intervention, situation, yes. But for many people suicidal thoughts and feelings are an occasional or an ongoing reality and if we care for them we can support with the hope and intention of helping them keep from ever getting to the bridge parapet or downing the pills.

If you don't know how to approach your friend or colleague or family member, give it a go anyway. If you don’t know what to say, say something, from a place of care and heart, not from a place of judgement or anger. Ask how you can help. Or just be quiet and be there.

Most of all, be yourself. The best yourself you can be. Because in that moment, your needs are not the issue. Your friend, your colleague, your family member, the person you just met, deserves nothing less.

Marty

If you are interested in learning how to be there for someone living with mental health issues or feeling suicidal, check my experiences of the excellent Mental Health First Aid (MHFA) and Applied Suicide Intervention Skills (ASIST) workshops.

 

Mental Health First Aid (MHFA)

I’d like to share my experience of the Mental Health First Aid (MHFA) course I completed last week, because it deserves to be far more widely known about than it is. I’d never heard of Mental Health First Aid until I attended an event organised by the "Time To Change" programme, but it sounded just what I was looking for and I registered on the first available course. I had to take time off work, and pay for the course myself, but I can honestly say it’s the best investment I’ve made in a long time.

What is MHFA?

"Mental Health First Aid is an educational course which teaches people how to identify, understand and help a person who may be developing a mental health problem. In the same way as we learn physical first aid, mental health first aid teaches you how to recognise those crucial warning signs of mental ill health." [MHFA England website]

Four versions of the course are available in the UK.

• Lite (3 hours, £75)
• Standard (2 days, £300)
• Youth (2 days, £300)

There is also a version of the course tailored for the Armed Forces. The prices I've listed are from the MHFA England website, but do check locally. The Standard course I did cost £95 for the two days (not £300).

Who teaches it?

According to the MHFA England website, there are over 650 instructors delivering the course in England. I was lucky to have the pick of the bunch. Bridget Woodhead and Rob Errington, of HealthWorks Newcastle, are simply exceptional. Having completed the course, I can’t imagine it being delivered by anyone else (unless maybe Ant and Dec, but they tend to be pretty fully booked these days).

Who is it for?

The course is listed as suitable for social care professionals, ambulance workers, nurses, school teachers, managers, as well as those with personal experience of mental illness, their friends and family. If you are thinking "I don’t really fit into any of those categories", don’t be put off. Find a course (there are some useful links below) and give it a go. You won’t be disappointed.

Of the thirteen in the class, I was the only one there in a purely "personal" capacity. The others represented a range of support services, including other parts of HealthWorks, which provides support for people wanting to make positive changes to maintain or improve their health, and Your Homes Newcastle, which manages council homes on behalf of Newcastle City Council. There was a great mix of personalities, ages and experience.

What is it like?

For anyone wondering, there was no role-play involved. There were several short exercises performed in groups of three or four. These were interesting and thought-provoking but not difficult, and fostered a positive atmosphere of sharing and working together.

The course is divided into four main parts. The first day covers depression and suicide/suicidal thinking: day 2 discusses anxiety disorders and psychosis. I found it odd that bipolar disorder was covered under psychosis (by definition only type 1 bipolar includes psychotic episodes) and mania/hypomania were scarcely mentioned. I feel it would benefit from a section of its own, but I recognise not everything can be covered in a two day course. Much of day one was directly relevant to type 2 bipolar, and very useful to me personally.

The value of the course extended far beyond the slides and booklet we were working from. It was stressed from the start that we were under no obligation to share more than we felt comfortable doing, but many of us felt safe doing so which added immensely to the experience. It really brought home to me that "mental health issues" don’t only happen to "other people". They are a part of all our lives in one way or another, whether we experience them directly, or in those we meet, know and care about. I came away with a deep respect for everyone there, and I am proud to count several as new friends.

And afterwards?

I think we were all sad that the course was only on for two days: we got so much out of it that we would gladly have returned for a few more sessions. Sue Field was on the course and kindly shared her experiences with me afterwards:

The MHFA course was a fantastic insight and introduction into mental health issues. I feel that this course should be compulsory for everyone as it looks at the stigma that is associated with mental ill health and how difficult it can be to be diagnosed with a mental illness. I haven't stopped talking about it to my friends, family and colleagues and it has highlighted the need for more services and support to help people to get professional help as early as possible. It has made me realise that I am passionate about helping people who are suffering with mental illness and am currently in the process of trying to find employment in this area. It was a very positive and motivational course made even more enjoyable by the fantastic course facilitators.

Rob generously shared his own perspective:

For Bridget and myself, talking about mental health is not a job but a passion. For more than five years we have delivered this training to hundreds of people and no two courses are the same. For some participants it builds on the significant knowledge and experience they already have. For other people it is a process of peeling back the layers of the myths and assumptions they have been told in the media to reveal a new understanding of what mental health is. And for some the two days are a safe place where they can feel that they aren't alone. It is a privilege to be able to explore these issues with people and we have learned so much ourselves along the way.

I wholeheartedly recommend the MHFA course to anyone. I found it built on my own knowledge and experience, and fired me to learn more. I’ve booked a place on an Applied Suicide Intervention Skills Training (ASIST) course in July. Sadly, that won’t be conducted by Rob and Bridget. Whoever I get has a hard act to follow!

~Marty

Useful links

Healthworks Newcastle

http://www.healthworksnewcastle.org.uk

MHFA United Kingdom

http://mhfaengland.org

https://www.facebook.com/MHFAEngland

https://twitter.com/mhfaengland

MHFA United States

http://www.mentalhealthfirstaid.org/cs

MHFA Canada

www.mentalhealthfirstaid.ca