Tag Archive for: Mental Health

Creativity Heals

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I’m not a therapist.

I’m not an expert on mental health……..But, it (mental health) is something I’m grappling with constantly.

I wanted to end this over the New Year. New Year’s Eve to be precise.

This came off of the back of a euphoric high a couple of days prior to this depressive low. I experienced another brief high last night. I connected with an old friend from London Business School whom I hadn’t seen in 10 years. I hoped to carry that positive momentum a little longer…

But I’ve woken up feeling low again.

I have ADHD (as well as autism). This means I have fewer dopamine receptors in my brain than people without ADHD. As a result, ADHD strongly correlates with depression.

There is no magic cure for this. Believe me I’ve tried anti depressants and ADHD meds…

I know what works for me…

It’s a blend of community and creativity.

Today, I woke up. Dopamine levels low. ADHD winning. Depression draped over me like cumulus clouds.

I could have surrendered to this. I wanted to surrender. But…I got up, logged onto London Writer Salon’s Weekend Writer’s Group. I did my morning pages. I wrote with my community.

Do I feel eutrophic right now?

No.

But, I feel better. Creativity is a balm. Creativity…I think latent creativity is a huge cause of my mental health issues that I’ve continued to grapple with since I was 5. In case you’re wondering, I’m 40 now.

But, a simple choice, involving morning pages and creativity (in community) has shifted my mind and led to this blog post.

I’m feeling better, but I won’t leave things to chance. I’m autistic and am part of an autistic theatre group. I’ll be joining them later today to rehearse for a Theatre Showcase where I’ll be performing.

More creativity.

More community.

More creativity in community.

“Latent creativity is not benign.” – Chase Jarvis

Living With Autism and ADHD

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I have autism and ADHD.

I’m 40 years old and I received my diagnosis for both conditions when I was 39 years old.

I won’t pretend to be a guru about either condition. I’m doing my best to furiously sprint up an insanely steep learning curve to understand both conditions.

Both neurodiverse brain types have great advantages (hyper – focus, creativity, etc) but they also come with challenges.

An inability to regulate is a major challenge. I struggle to regulate my focus (ADHD) and I struggle to regulate my emotions and reactions (ADHD and autism).

One of the things that has plagued me has been how to navigate social interactions.

I don’t always understand context or boundaries in conversation. If someone opens up and shares information with me, I do the same. But I don’t understand what I can and can’t share. I can’t figure out what details to include and what details to exclude.

Autism, or at least my experience with my autism, it makes me view things in a binary way.

You get all the details of my life or an anecdote or none.

This is tricky in social interactions because at best, you’ll bore the shit of someone.

Worst case scenario? You’ll upset someone because of details that could be triggering or just plain unnecessary.

I’ve lost friendships this way. Only recently I had a chat where I struggled with context and boundaries. I needed to tell someone the ending of the story. The headline of the story to be more precise. But I gave a bunch of super upsetting details along the way.

They told me to stop. I did.

But they got understandably upset. I started to panic and apologised.

But on the inside, I was having a complete meltdown. I wanted to go into another room and have the kind of meltdown that can be common when you’re autistic and can’t regulate your emotions in a difficult situation.

I didn’t. But I did cry. The other person told me it’s cool. I made a mistake, they set a boundary. They told me they won’t think or obsess about this again. But, they’re aware that I will, because of my autism.

They’re not wrong.

It’s been a day and I’ve obsessed and beat myself up about it and even poured through memories of when I’ve had these experiences with other people in the past and they were not so understanding or forgiving.

It’s hard.

Having autism is hard.

Having ADHD is hard.

Having both ADHD and autism?

It makes life incredibly challenging because you will find socialising, navigating a work environment and getting through the education system really difficult.

With regards to my social life, I’ve lost a lot of friends along the way due to my quirks which I now realise were the challenges from ADHD and autism.

What’s changed since then?

I had to advocate for myself and get referrals on the National Health Service (NHS) for ADHD and autism assessments.

Since being diagnosed I’ve done more research on both neurodiverse brain types.

Self awareness is really important.

I’m lucky that I have an incredible partner and great friends. I can be open with them about my autism and ADHD.

They are kind, patient and understanding.

They accept for who I am and let me be me.

In parallel I’m working hard to understand my neurodiversity better so I can make the most of my gifts and be of service to others.

I Struggle With Adult Life

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Quick note: This was written and drafted on July 30th, 2020. It’s taken me this long to let go and just share this piece. Here it is:

I’m lying in bed right now and I’m unable to sleep. In the morning I’ll wake up and it’ll be the last complete day I spend with my daughter Zaynub before she moves to Dubai with her mother. 

I wrote a blog post last year called “Love Is An Act of Sacrifice” and was meant to write a follow up not too long after…actually I was meant to write a follow up post almost immediately. It outlined what happened when I met my ex-wife to discuss Zaynub’s future and how I felt, the thoughts that I had to process. 

I started writing the post, but I just couldn’t bring myself to publish it, because that would mean really sitting down with the piece, editing it and having to think about it more. I didn’t know this at the time…I just know that I avoided the task of completing that blog post. Then I got busy writing other posts.

On March 8th I had dinner with my friend’s Sofia and Ty and we chopped it up over dinner, discussed my daughter’s impending move to Dubai that year. Expressing my feelings  with my big brother and big sister really helped me attain some peace.

During the pandemic, I had time to think. That wasn’t all I did. The pandemic was full of anxiety and grief and mourning too. I came close to losing my big sis and friend Sofia to the virus. I’ve documented Ty’s death in these posts Cosmic Dust, Tomorrow, Saying Goodbye, and Repressing Grief. I had a couple of friends in China were ill with Covid too. 

During the pandemic, I had time to think. I realised dealing with Zaynub moving away would be a two stage process. 

Stage One: Processing and accepting the idea of Zaynub leaving.

This took weeks, initially I would talk to others about this, but very quickly I decided to just keep this to myself. Dinner with Ty and Sofia helped me consolidate my thoughts and feelings after I’d done the important work of sitting with them myself. Free from anyone else’s influence and suggestions. 

Stage Two: Accepting and Adapting to the Reality of Zaynub leaving.

This is where I’m at now. At the time of me writing and drafting this, she will fly out to Dubai in a little over 24 hours from now. 

I’m teary and utterly overwhelmed with emotions. 

I knew that this day was coming and I knew a fresh wave of emotions would be visiting me. I just wasn’t aware it’d be more of a tsunami. 

The past few months have been a mixed bag, bittersweet:
I dealt with the loss of income due to the pandemic, just when I’d acquired a new skill that I think could completely change my life and finally enable me to pursue my dreams. 

I stressed over 4 friends who were hospitalised with Covid-19. I lost one of them to the virus, came close to losing 2 of them and 2 of them are still vulnerable and I still worry about them both.

My mental health has been tested to the limits and yet my understanding and self awareness around my mental health grows with each day. This enhanced understanding of my mental health is something I hope can benefit my friends whose patience, love and support I want to reciprocate. 

Part of this understanding has been facilitated by therapeutic counselling and as a result I’ve been referred and have started submitting paperwork to potentially explore diagnosis of ADHD and Autism. That’s a longer story and I’ll be exploring that in many more dedicated blog posts. 

The recent weeks have been the most trying of my life as I struggle to process grief, but they have a also been filled with pure joy as Zaynub and I have spent time together. 

We’ve laughed, joked, watched Rick and Morty. I read her some of my poetry and she genuinely loved it. We discussed my divorce with her mother. We discussed my own fractured and dysfunctional relationship with my family. 

Zaynub talked to me about my dreams and the importance of me following my dreams. 

We had a heart to heart about Ty’s death after Shortee Blitz delivered his instalment of “Pass the Torch” (an event held to remember Ty) and Zaynub held space for me to cry and let me hug her as I communicated my pain over Ty’s loss.

Zaynub has confided in me, I’ve confided in her. We’ve expressed how much we’re going to miss each other. 

I’ve acted as a chauffeur and chaperone with her and her friends as Zaynub has tried to squeeze in as much time with her close friends as possible before she has to say goodbye to them. 

I’ve felt love and pure joy. I’ve felt unconditional love. I’ve expressed unconditional love. 

Zaynub has been my anchor for the past (almost) 11 years. But children are not supposed to be tethered to their parents, not physically, nor emotionally.

It’s time to truly uphold the ideals of Kahlil Gibran’s poem “On Children”

On Children 

Your children are not your children 
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself 
They come through you but not from you
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you

You may give them your love but not your thoughts
For they have their own thoughts
You may house their bodies but not their souls
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. 

You are the bows from which your children 
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, 
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far. 
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness; 
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, 
So He loves also the bow that is stable

Kahlil Gibran

Let this be my North Star as Zaynub’s father. 

Navigating Depression and ADHD as a Creative

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It’s 7am. I’m getting up.

Doesn’t sound unusual. Thing is, I went down for a nap at 6pm yesterday. I was tired.

Again, sounds normal and reasonable.

I have long Covid. I tested positive for Covid early December 2020. I was extremely ill for 2 weeks. It’s now the middle of May 2021. I’m still grappling with severe fatigue, breathlessness and severe hair loss.

Last night I was going to go out for a walk. It pelted down with rain and hail stone and the sky thundered and roared.

I stayed indoors.

At 6pm I decided to take a nap. I was trying to read “Own Your Own Weird” by Jason Zook, but was way too tired.

Pre long Covid, this nap would be brief and I’d wake up later in the evening, ready to be creative and productive.

Instead, I woke up 13 hours later.

I woke up, upset that I can’t this control this aspect of my health and my time.

I’m anxious as I’m waiting to hear back on some leads for paid work projects. They’ll get back to me. But for now, I can only focus on the silence in my email inbox.

I decided to load up Logic Pro X and open I beat I was making so I could share it online. These beats were made using presets, so I learnt the hard way that Logic Pro X does NOT save the presets you choose to make beats with when you save it.

When you make original compositions it saves everything. But not when you use presents, it just won’t.

I created 5 beats last week. All made and saved this way. Lost forever.

Last week, just before I took a break for Eid I was on a high. New leads for paid freelancing gigs, beats made…..lots of promise.

An artistic and creative path has ups and downs, twists and turns. For me, this is heavily exacerbated by my ADHD.

ADHD makes me far more susceptible to extreme highs and lows. Depressive episodes and lows are a lifelong companion.

Waking up to the kind of start I have today is often the recipe for very unproductive depressive episodes.

But I’ve been doing my morning pages this morning and gaining some clarity.

I’m feeling very down. Doesn’t take Colombo to figure that out.

But, I have leads for work. They’re likely busy. So I’ll park that anxiety to one side, or at least try to.

As for the lost beats. I’ll create again and I’ll write down the settings for beats made using presets on Logic Pro X, so I don’t repeat this mistake.

The lost time and fatigue from long Covid?

My body has been impacted by an unforgiving virus. My body needed the rest. I listened to my body. I need to be patient with my health.

Despite my current ADHD mood swing, essentially a depressive episode, I’m gonna try and push on today.

A creative path isn’t all bouncy castles every day.

I’m going to focus on what I can control today.

I’ll go out for a walk and work on some creative and paid freelancing goals and read.

I’ll “Keep Going”.

The pendulum will swing the other way.

If you’re an artist, a creative and / or have ADHD, know that you’re not alone navigating the ups and downs that come with what feels like a lonely path.

You’re not alone.

Keep Going.

We need you and your gifts.

Share them with us.

Let generosity be your North Star.

oh baby..revisited

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I love surprises! Don’t you?

I especially love it when those surprises spring from the same well.

“oh baby” by LCD Soundsystem. It’s a sublime song. I spoke about the joy of hearing it for the first time in my last post.

Another thing that gives me joy is storytelling. Particularly visual storytelling. Films, long form TV shows and when it’s done well, music videos.

For the past 2 years and 4 months I’ve been revisiting “oh baby” on Spotify.

I never once thought to go onto YouTube and look for its music video. However, I chanced upon it a few days ago. I’d been dissociating* again. It wasn’t fun. But once again art pierced through and allowed light to seep into me.

The music video is a short film set to music. I wish more musicians did this rather than use music videos as a promotional tool for their songs.

As I watch the opening frames of the video lead from pencils makes marks on paper. I’m then greeted by the stars of this story, David Strathairn and Sissy Spacek. They’re scientists working on a teleportation device and they’re in love with each other.

Because it’s set to music, there’s no dialogue. But their love is visible in each frame. Each shot and scene conveys more than any dialogue ever could.

This is why I want to be a screenwriter. Telling a story in pictures is an art form and the director, Rian Johnson delivers a poignant masterclass.

Sissy Spacek and David Strathairn‘s devotion to each other…..I can’t take my eyes off of them. I really can’t. I can’t help but care deeply about them. I wanna see them win in their pursuit of creating a teleportation machine.

Seconds and minutes elapse and I travel through time and space.

Intrigue draws me in, enchantment keeps me there and I return to my life with sorrow.

I process it all and I walk away with hope.

I’m crying.
I’m emotional.
I’m inspired.

oh baby

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I love surprises! Don’t you?

With my head hunched down at my laptop in a trendy office I hummed “oh baby….”

The sounds of hypnotic synths travelled through the room.

“What song is this?” I asked my colleague.

“It’s ‘oh baby’ by LCD Soundsystem” she replied.

For decades I’ve struggled with dissociation*. I’ve found it hard to feel. Joy has been hard to come by.

This was NOT one of those moments. An honest piece of art can disrupt you and heal you. It can act as a form of therapy.

Music does that for me.

Find something that does that for you.

It’ll act as a balm for your spirit.



*You can find more information about dissociation at this link.

It’s Ok to Not Be OK…

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I’ve been grappling with what to write lately. Part of me has wanted to write a review of the year so far. Part of me wants to tackle my mental health challenges and where I’m at currently with it. Or maybe I write about both?
 
I’m just going to write until I’ve emptied myself, then I’ll figure out if everything I’ve written in this particular writing session will be in one epic blog post or if I’ll create several blog posts.

I just need to get back to writing and doing so without judging myself and without getting so hung up on the end product. 

Process > Outcome.

I keep reminding other people of this, yet I’ve completely forgotten to internalise this truth. Just write. See what takes shape and then take it from there. 

I’ve promised myself and my readers recently that I’ll get back to writing this blog. It’s not happened and I’ve struggled to make it happen. 

One of the best creative decisions I made this year was to start writing this blog. It tapped into latent aspects of my creativity and it has resonated with people strongly. 

I loved doing it and I still want to do it. But I’m struggling. 

I’m struggling to get started. 

I’m struggling to finish what I start. 

I’m struggling to trust myself and my creativity.

I’m struggling to be honest with myself.

I’m running around telling people I’m ok. I’m not. I’m not trying to alarm anyone. I am the strongest and the most resilient I’ve ever been in my life. I’m proud of how much I’ve grown since 2017 and how much I continue to develop my self awareness. 

But in spite of all the positives, I have to really start being honest with myself. 

This has not been an easy year at all. Not even close. Yet I walk around acting like the year wasn’t that bad or that it’s not reasonable for me to be hurting and struggling to function.

I’ve had to process a lot of emotions, thoughts and grief. I’ve had to make some really important decisions around how I look after myself and how I’m going to pursue my dreams.  

My divorce came through in January, it took 3 years and I welcomed it. I felt much lighter as a result of it. But it was quickly followed by unexpected conversations with my ex wife about where she and our daughter would live going forward.

After 3 years of me playing musical chairs around different parts of South London, I’d finally decided to move to Morden to be closer to my daughter in Worcester Park.

The initial plan my ex wife had was to sell up and move to Kingston upon Thames. That was a slight adjustment, nothing I couldn’t handle. An extra 15-30 mins on travel time each way depending on traffic. 

But we had to discuss issues around money, quality of life and yes, Brexit. Brexit is not fun and the UK has become a much more toxic place as a result. My ex said she would stay close to me geographically so that I could see more of my daughter.

But I’ve never wanted my daughter to feel beholden to me. I want her to have the best chance in life. So I told my ex I was open to her exploring her options outside of London.

Within a week, my ex called me up to talk. This was the catalyst for the post “Love Is An Act of Sacrifice”.

She had landed a job offer as a head of maths department at a top private school in Dubai. 

I meant to write a follow up post to that, but I just couldn’t. The same way I’ve struggled to write and complete any blog posts over lockdown.

I’m scared to write because writing is a clarified form of thinking. And quite frankly, I don’t want to think about all the factors that went into me ultimately giving my ex the green light to take the job offer and move to Dubai at the end of July this year. 

I don’t want to write about and ultimately think about a lot of things this year because it has been exhausting. I’m fucking tired. Yet, I know I can’t give up. I can’t give up on life. I can’t give up on my gifts. So I’m trying to navigate the balance between being “kind to myself”, but also holding myself accountable and trying to “get shit done”. 

I’ll likely write a more in detail blog post, or even a series of posts around my daughter and  how I’ve been processing and navigating her move Dubai. 

Needless to say, it’s been challenging and I had to navigate all kinds of opinions and advice from friends and acquaintances on my decision. Most of it has been supportive. Some of it well meaning but really not helpful. I had dinner with my friends Ty and Sofia back on March 8th to process all of this. 

It was an emotional dinner at the time, even more so now as Ty has since passed due to complications from Covid-19 and I almost lost Sofia to Covid-19 too. 

I’ve not allowed myself to acknowledge how hard that was. Two close friends, both struck down with Covid-19. It’s stressful waking up every day wondering if your friends will still be here. 

It’s stressful when you lose a friend. 

I’m grateful that Sofia survived. 

I had to not only lose a friend, but attend his funeral and help lay him to rest.

Prior to all of that, at the beginning of lockdown, my ex wife got ill with Covid-19 symptoms. I had to figure out what life may look like if she had passed away and my daughter came to live with me. My daughter was shook during this whole time. She loves her mother dearly and it knocked her off balance to see her mum so ill and to entertain the thought that maybe just maybe something bad might happen to her. This took so much out of me in a brief period of time. My ex wife recovered quickly, but I’m not sure I’ve fully recovered from this incident.

I’ve literally packed this whole event in a box and sealed it shut with metaphorical rolls of brown tape. 

As this year has progressed my daughter’s departure to Dubai drew ever closer. I focused all of my time almost exclusively on my relationship with her. 

We watched Rick and Morty together, she held space for me and held me when I cried after Shortee Blitz’ edition of “Pass The Torch”, an online celebration of Ty’s life. We joked, laughed and took the piss out of each other. My daughter Zaynub asked me to perform poems I wrote and she complimented me on how much she loves my writing. She told me she acknowledges supports my pursuit of my dreams.

She opened up to me about so many things that will remain private here. She’s getting older and I want her to feel safe and unconditionally loved in ways I didn’t when I was growing up.

I’ve been often critiqued for my parenting skills and my parenting style. I’ve learnt to respect people’s opinions and input, but to follow my intuition as a father. 

Very little of how I conduct myself and live my life adheres to sensible conventions. Why on earth would my parenting and my relationship with my daughter be any different?

Anyways, we’ve become closer than ever. A beautiful double edged sword. My relationship with my daughter is in a place I’ve longed for since she was first born. But it’s bittersweet as it comes at a time when she is now leaving to go live in another country. 

Saying goodbye at the airport was fucking hard. Zaynub’s best friend and her mother also came to see her off and they were both very emotional. I did my best not to show any emotion and neither did Zaynub. Zaynub’s best friend revealed to me that Zaynub had been in tears the night before as she will miss me. It should hurt, maybe it does on a subconscious level, but I was reassured to hear this information given to me by Zaynub’s best friend. 

I’ve struggled to feel secure about my relationship with Zaynub, both for the first 7 years of her life when I lived with her and her mother and then for the tumultuous 3 years her mother and I tried to negotiate our divorce. 

This information and a handful of other moments during lockdown really allowed me to feel closer to my daughter and give us opportunities to clearly express our love to each other. 

This year, I also made some tough choices around how I intend to earn a living going forward. 

I want to earn a living as an artist, I know I can and I will. But I have to bridge that gap for now. Between where I am and where I want to be, where I know I can be. I’ll get there. Insh’Allah. 
But in the meantime I have to find a way to do “bread and butter” work. Stuff that’ll pay rent, groceries etc. 

For the past 3 years as I’ve leaned more into my creativity I’ve grappled with what I do for a living. I’ve alternated between working for startups and during extreme bouts of depression and anxiety, I’ve worked for below living wage delivering pizzas. 

Regardless of what I was paid, the challenges were the same. Giving too much energy to things that don’t contribute to my dreams and then having to find a way to switch gears when I get home and “create”.

I decided to retrain as a copywriter. Again, like so many things I’m touching upon in this post, I’ll go into more detail around why I chose to be a freelance copywriter. This decision to retrain is partly driven by my autism (I’ve been diagnosed) and my ADHD (I’m awaiting a diagnosis). Some of it is driven by the need to have greater flexibility and to earn better money while freeing up more time to work on artistic projects.

I came so close to landing some great clients back around March/April this year. But Covid-19 saw that work disappear. I’m on Universal Credit. This is the first time I’m on benefits. 

Again, I’ve yet to fully allow myself to acknowledge what I feel. I’m frustrated, hurt and angry at my loss of income at a time when I have retrained in a new skill and wanted to make major changes to my lifestyle. 

Let me cut through the noise I’ve just typed above. My self esteem has taken a massive hit. My entire life I’ve struggled to hold down work and earn money, whether it’s when I wasn’t pursuing my dreams and even now while I’m pursuing my dreams.

Basically, those contracts would have been the first time in my adult life I’d be getting paid consistently for something I want to do and enjoy. It was going to be on my terms. It would be to fund my dreams. To keep me going. I’ve taken this set back personally and as a reflection on me and my own abilities. So much so that I’ve not been able to regain any kind of momentum.

I try. I start. I stop. 

I need to forgive myself and remind myself of how hard it’s been for so many people to find work, keep work and earn money this year. I’m not alone. 

I got diagnosed with autism last month. That was huge. For most of my life I’ve known something isn’t quite “normal” or “right” with me. I’ve struggled to hold down jobs, form or maintain friendships and relationships. 

Being diagnosed with autism is a huge win as it allows me to begin to understand myself. But it was a lot to process. Overlapping this with all of the other emotions I’ve struggling with this year. It’s a lot. 
I’ve yet to forgive myself for all the things I did “wrong” related to my autism or that people judged me for related to my autism over four decades of my life. 

I’m anxious about my ADHD diagnosis. The final piece of my mental health puzzle I’ve been trying to solve since 2016. 

You see, even as I write this, I’m only just starting to realise how much I’ve been dealing with this year. 

I’ve succeeded in suppressing almost ALL of it. 

It’s not a shock that I’m currently not ok right now. 

I’m grappling with a very strong and stubborn depressive episode.

I’m in pain and I really want this pain to end. I’ve written about this in a previous blog post called “The Chemicals in my Brain Are Liars”. 

I’ve woken up recently and wished I’d never woken up again. It’s not new, I learn to deal with it. 

Taking stock of this year, I know where the problem lies. This year really hasn’t gone according to how I wanted it to. I have years, decades of unfulfilled potential and output as an artist to make up for. I am closer than ever to carving out MY life, not the one others thrust upon me. 

I’m close. So fucking close. But I’m treating the shortcomings of my achievements this year as an indictment of my own abilities. They’re not. 

I’ve not forgiven myself for how this year has gone. 

I’ve not forgiven myself for the past. For my marrying someone I probably shouldn’t have.

I’ve not forgiven myself for not following my dreams in my 20s and now trying to play catch up.

I’ve not forgiven myself for losing momentum creatively over lockdown. For losing momentum with this blog and my creative practice. 

This blog post is far from my best work. Sentences are not perfect. There’s likely too much repetition and it’ll be deemed “unfocused”.

I’m focusing on all things that this blog post “isn’t”. That’s what’s caused so much creative anxiety and procrastination. 

But what trumps (so sorry for using that word) all of that is what this post IS.

This post IS finished. 

Please stay with me. I have so much to share. I’ll be doing a 2nd write up of 2020 entitled “2020 – The Year So Far” where I focus on my wins and the positives. Things that should be celebrated.

I’ve written a lot of very sad, melancholy and dark work. My output from 2017 to 2018 was largely drenched in that tone and energy. It wasn’t my fault…maybe it was….but shit was hard and I couldn’t frame things in any other way than through pain, cynicism and sorrow.

But that’s been changing. Whether it’s my blog posts or my poetry, I’ll show you darkness, but my goal is to end on the light. 

Light > Darkness

I think that’s another reason why I’ve been reluctant to write and share work with you. I’ve been scared to show you the darkness, the hurt and the pain. There isn’t enough light in this post. But that’s ok. 
My follow up post will have plenty of that. 

I’m learning to trust myself, trust my process, trust my journey and trust my audience. 

Stay with me. Please.

The intermission is over. For now. 

I promise I’ll continue to lead with honesty and lead with love.

Always. 

Chemicals In My Brain Are Liars

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*Trigger warning* *Contains references to suicide*

This has been one of the most incredible weeks of my life.

I opened my heart to someone special. I did it without wanting anything in return, other than the desire for a more honest friendship.

I poemed the fucking shit™ out of people.

I grew closer to my daughter. 

A lifetime (almost 39 years) of performing for the validation of others is closing. I shaved my head to mark the milestone. 

I wake up in the morning and I’m happy with where my life is going. I take pleasure in my creativity. It’s where I’m at my happiest. When I’m writing my own story. 

This past week I have asked for what I want from people and I’ve done it respectfully. I’ve been firm but gentle. But the key breakthrough is that I’ve done it unapologetically. This didn’t happen overnight, I had to learn to do this, I had to give myself permission. 

As I began first drafting this, I was 4 hours away from turning 39. 

Without any warning, I turned suicidal.

Now let me preface this. I have ADHD and autism; I likely have Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD) too. I suffer from chronic depression and chronic anxiety. I have grappled with suicidal tendencies most of my life. 

You’d think I was prepared for this sudden suicidal turn? Not even close. 

This was one of the most violent suicidal mood swings I’ve felt since……shit….too many instances…but I remember one back in 2017….it was bad. So yeah, what I felt hours before my 39th birthday, it was the worst instance in almost 3 years. I had felt I’d banished such feelings, but no such luck this evening. 

It’s mad, there are so many suicidal turns I’ve taken in my life, but I find it fascinating that I’ve chosen the one in December 2017. I had just finished producing and project managing a music video for Eyes Open by Ty. 

This was a huge milestone for me. I had helped realise a music video for one of my favourite artists of all time. 

Just like the week preceding my 39th birthday, I reached a previously unexperienced peak moment in my life. Yet moments such as these are brought to an abrupt end with me shifting all of my energy and focus on fighting the urge to kill myself. 

I have to avoid the kitchen because it has knives. I have to hide my house keys so that I can’t go out and throw myself in front of oncoming traffic.

My solution to wanting to kill myself hours before I turn 39? I went to bed immediately. I can’t kill myself when I’m asleep. But also, when I’m asleep I can’t feel the sadness, despair, and pain.

That’s what suicide is. It’s a desire to turn the sadness, despair, and pain off. Permanently.

I went to bed and it helped. Early the next morning I got a message from a friend in Taiwan. She is a successful artist and grapples with mental health and suicidal ideation. She reminded me that I’m not alone and that I need to double down on my purpose. To inspire others with my art. 

She reminded me that the chemicals in my brain are liars. 

I’m here to remind you of this truth, just like my friend reminded me.

If you’re reading this, I appreciate you and I love you.

Thank you.



* The poemed the fucking shit™ is owned by the poet and writer Acafella

The Best Time To Start Writing Is Now

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I’ve been putting off writing this blog. The idea for this blog first emerged early in 2017. It was going to be called “Finding Haroon”

Back then seismic shifts were happening in my life. Namely:

1.) I admitted to myself that I had mental health issues and sought professional help.

2.) I ended my 10-year marriage. Not an easy choice, but a necessary one. 

3.) I rediscovered my identity as an artist. Namely as a writer. 

I wanted to document my journey. It didn’t happen. 

The past 3 years were turbulent. I went through numerous mental health breakdowns. I suffered financial hardships. I moved house 8 times, each move added to the already towering pile of trauma I’ve accumulated since I was a young child. 

Also, I procrastinated. I didn’t write because even though I wanted to write, I did not view myself as a writer. 

That wasn’t my identity. So, my actions, or lack thereof, aligned with that lack of self-belief. 

But that changes now. 

I ended my marriage 3 years ago, but the divorce was not finalised until late in January 2020. My divorce weighed on me. 

Thankfully, I’m now free of that mental block.

I want to write. I want to create MY life. The one that I choose. Not a life that others have chosen for me. 

This life involves writing, it involves telling stories. I want to share my joy, pain and everything in between. 


I am Haroon. 

I am a writer. 

I am an artist.

That is my identity.