Meeting of the Parliament 21 November 2017
As someone who has gone through the trauma of acute poor mental health and who at one stage, a long time ago, made a cry-for-help attempt, I have some idea of what goes through the mind of a human being who feels so broken that the only way out that they can see is to become a victim of suicide. Depression, stress and anxiety can become so crippling that everyday tasks become an uphill battle. For many, even climbing out of bed every day is a struggle, and those suffering are robbed of hope and joy. It is like a black cloud that envelops people’s very existence.
Earlier this year, I wrote an article about my battles with depression and I was inundated with offers of support and stories from others who have faced horrendous battles—some, even, who have been fortunate enough to survive suicide attempts and get the support that they so desperately need. I was touched by the number of people who said that my story was their story and that I had been of some assistance to them. For that, I am eternally grateful.
Sadly, too many do not survive the horrors of poor mental health, and that is why the debate is so vital. I am sure that I am not alone in the chamber when I say that people who are extremely close to me have seen for themselves the results of what can happen when someone gets to that awful point—Alex Cole-Hamilton just talked about that. Heartening though it is to see a drop of 17 per cent in suicide rates over the past decade, we still have to examine every avenue at our disposal so that the number drops further. That is why I am pleased that the Scottish Government places such a high priority on mental ill health and suicide prevention.
I am glad that suicide rates have dropped in the past decade, but I am deeply troubled, if not surprised, to see that the suicide rate among men is still two and a half times that among women. Every death that happens at the hands of suicide is a travesty, but it is clear that we have a specific job to do with men. It took me years to open up about my illness. I had a misconception that, as a man, it was my job to be better than that or to save face in front of friends or colleagues, so I said nothing. I imagine that many men across Scotland do the same thing.
There are organisations that are trying to tackle that. The breathing space Scotland service has worked with several football clubs and organisations, and high-profile players have reached out to men across football, and indeed across Scotland, to try to remove the stigma attached to mental ill health and to show men that it is important to talk. A simple conversation with the right person can be all that is needed to save a life or at least to start someone on a recovery journey. That is why I am pleased that talking about suicide is one of the Government’s key themes.
Language around mental health is another barrier that prevents people from reaching out to those who could be suffering, especially males. Like my colleague Clare Haughey, I absolutely despise the use of the phrase “man up” when someone expresses the emotions of anxiety or depression. There is a well-used phrase that goes, “If someone had a broken leg, you wouldn’t make them walk on it.” If a man has a physical scar that the human eye can see, it seems acceptable for him to take time out, get physiotherapy and recover at his own pace. However, a mental scar can be a different ball game. Many are told to pull themselves together or can be self-critical, dismissing their emotions and thinking that they need to give themselves a shake. I am not a psychologist, but I know enough to say that if we ignore mental illness, the results will manifest themselves just as with any other physical disease—in other words, it is unlikely to self-heal. Of course, that can mean that the illness gets progressively worse, which, tragically, can result in suicide.
I know a young woman who is being seen by an expert CAMHS team. She had several physical and emotional health issues, and had cut her arms and legs with knives and attempted to kill herself. She was referred to CAMHS and I am delighted to report that, after several months in care and therapy, that young lady is almost unrecognisable.