I believe I’ve mentioned one of the first years in an earlier post, a trumpeter who keeps falling unconscious. If not, I’m going in to more detail now, because something incredible happened.

So, first year brass player who keeps passing out. Sounds very familiar to me, and the irony is not lost on anyone. We get on really well, I’m someone she talks to about it a lot because I understand. It’s difficult for others to get their head around really, it is really hard to understand why. But I can help and be there, so I am.

But something happened yesterday that was very unexpected: I opened up and told her what happened last year. Obviously she knows about my heart, but not the mental stuff. What triggered it is that she doesn’t drink, and she said something along the lines of wanting to drink so she could forget it all. I think it just triggered alarm bells, and I told her everything: my breakdown, how depressed and suicidal I got, and how two banders saved my life by literally tackling me to the floor. I just wanted her to know that it didn’t have to get that bad, and that I would be there to support her, as would many others. I don’t know why I said it all, but I did and the significance of that only struck me this morning.

Because I can’t talk to people.

and here I am telling someone who I’ve only spoken to for a few weeks my mental health history for the past year and what happened.

I’ve kept it so close to my chest, I just didn’t realise until now how much I hide from people. I don’t think this means I can talk more openly now. I just don’t want to see my life repeated in someone else.


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