this talk: is about processing trauma following brain surgery - with Grace Latter
Hello, I’m Grace, and I have a very messed up brain, in more ways than one.
I heard very little about mental health growing up, and what I did hear was negative. I was taught that anyone with what they would (correctly) call ‘mental health issues’ was simply ‘crazy’ and to be avoided at all costs, incase they hurt me somehow – or worse, their inherent madness rubbed off on me.
By the time I turned 18, I’d started to believe that depression was a terrifying illness, intrinsically linked to violence, self-harm and death. When I started university, however, I found myself surrounded by peers who’d had a more open community upbringing than I’d had, so they were not only much more aware of mental health disorders, but more accepting of them, and able to recognise them in others. I quickly made it my mission to wise up and become as aware and knowledgeable as my friends. I wanted to make up for my time being woefully ignorant, and be there for people in my life who needed support. My mum went through five years of counselling when I was at university, to help her confront buried feelings and process years of grief, and I checked in regularly. I saw the difference when she came out the other side – it was amazing.
I always thought I’d made my way through uni without any misfortune, mentally. Although, now I look back I obviously see how hard it was, how lonely I felt at times, and how stressed I got with all the work combined with a hectic social life. I was particularly troubled in my second year, when I went down a dark hole following a heartbreak, and developed a disorder in my eating. That said, I don’t think my mental health journey actually began until after what happened in my third year…
I was diagnosed with a brain tumour in May 2014, not long after I’d handed in all my coursework, performed all my Drama projects, and completed my Creative Writing dissertation. I was suddenly pulled out of my little uni life bubble, brought back to the family home, and going in for major surgery, all in the space of 10 days. I was breezy and positive the whole way through. I was actually more concerned for my family and friends, having to watch me go through it all. In fact, the only time I cried was after my first meeting with my neurosurgeon (one of my all-time favourite people; a hero) when I realised I had to tell my sister what was happening (we’d kept a lot of the drama from her until that point). Not once did I get anxious or upset for myself. It wasn’t until a few months after the surgery that I realised I needed counselling, and to actually process the trauma I’d been through.
My GP (another hero of mine) told me, three years after the first brain surgery and not long after my two bowel operations (unrelated, would you believe?), that dealing with trauma is quite like when a character in a cartoon runs right off a cliff, zooming through the air, until they stop suddenly and look down at the enormous drop beneath them. And it’s only when that happens, that they fall. The analogy was in reference to my attitude throughout my (many) surgeries and treatments; I’d skate through it all with a smile on my face, inspiring others with my positivity, but then as soon as it was all over, and I was home from hospital trying to get back to normality… my mental state would spiral downwards. And the most important thing when you go through that, I’ve found, is to let it happen, and tell other people it’s happening.
I cannot emphasise enough just how important it is to surround yourself with others who will be equally open and honest in speaking about their feelings, and are always up for lending a listening ear. I’m so lucky to have friends who let me vent and/or cry over many cups of coffee, or a bag of chips on the beach. And they know I’d do the same for them. That’s important, too; a relationship must have equal amounts of give and take. I learned that somewhere along the way on my journey as well, from the friends who always needed me to listen, but didn’t hear when I asked for help.
Something else that will help your mental health? Make it just as important, in your mind, as your physical health. Factor it into your self care routine. I prioritise my mind as much as I do my hormonal skin, knotty shoulders, and irritable bowels. Your body and mind are connected, and sometimes they confer amongst themselves before they clue you in on what’s happening. You just have to listen to both of them when they decide to tell you.
Okay, last tip! It is so important to find yourself a form of creative therapy, or an effective outlet on your down days. Long walks along the seafront make me feel inspired and free. I’ve also been ‘writing my feelings out’ on my blog for over 10 years. I’m actually finding some solace in social media platforms these days, too. Shocking, I know!