Nature and wellbeing

IT WAS a typically dark damp November day – the sort of day that made you wish it was July again. I had just popped home for a quick half-hour lunch break, travelling the three miles from work on my scooter.

As my hand put the key in the door, I found myself shaking with cold; not from the short ride I had just had from the office, but from a cold that came from deep within.

It had been there the last couple of days despite working in a warm office environment. It had also been there when sitting in the cosy lounge of a loving family home. As I sat alone eating my sandwiches, I was aware of a sensation of fear, hitting me, wave after wave.

It would start in my stomach and then seem to radiate throughout my whole body, exploding in my head. It was something over which I seemed to have no control. I had never known such a feeling in my life.

At that point I had no idea that I was well on the road to clinical depression. That was to be revealed a few days later in my doctor’s surgery. It was going to be one of many dark days that lay ahead; a time of terror and self-discovery without a time limit that I could see.

To make any sense of what lies ahead, you need to know what lay behind.

I am Guernsey-born, with a family tree going back to 1640. I am married to Judy, and father to two wonderful daughters, and four grandchildren.

The period of depression occurred in the 1990s when there was a much greater stigma attached to this illness than there is today. I quickly became reclusive, not wanting to be seen out during daytime, not answering the door, or the telephone.

During the dark winter days, with Judy gone to work, it was left mainly to my mother, in her 80s, to cycle each morning to my house to get me out of bed. I was totally overwhelmed by waves of anxiety that continually washed over me. Each day it seemed, was darker, longer, and more hopeless than the previous one.

I was employed by an insurance company and was signed off with depression and anxiety in three-week blocks. My job at this time had become extremely stressful. With no support from the management, this only added to my anxiety. I had, till this time, also been heavily involved in children’s ministry at my local church, with the responsibility of 40 six- to 11-year-old children each week.

I had never been one who enjoyed sports, hobbies, or really had many close friends. So, when the psychiatrist who I was referred to at the Castel Hospital asked, ‘How do you switch off?’ I couldn’t give an answer. By this time, I was on antidepressants, sleeping tablets, and diazepam. I eventually became addicted to sleeping tablets and diazepam, of which it took me several months to wean myself off, not without side-effects. During this time, I received two letters expressing the management’s disappointment at my continued absence, and saying, that if I didn’t return to work after the next three-week leave of absence, they wouldn’t be able to continue my employment.

Such was the shock of receiving this news, that I developed fibromyalgia, which I have to this day.

Even though the psychiatrist didn’t support my return to work, I felt I had little option but to go back. In retrospect, I think it was probably a good thing to have a reason to get up in the morning. I did ask if I could go back part-time, but was told it would have to be full time or not at all.

It was about three months into this regime, still off work, and no light at the end of the tunnel, that something changed.

We live just under a mile away from the Vale Pond, and one day, I decided that I would walk as far as there in the belief that, because it was a working day, nobody else would be there. I had for years put out food for the birds in the garden, but that was as far as my interest had gone. It wasn’t long, as I sat in the hide, that someone poked their head through the doorway and started engaging with me in conversation. He told me that his wife worked with Judy at the same school. I found I was able to share with him what I was doing there and was surprised to hear that he too suffered from depression. Our conversation continued, and he asked if I would be interested to go out with him birdwatching one day. This I agreed to do, although wasn’t sure if I would enjoy the experience.

I guess, as you look at the context of this page, it becomes apparent that not only did I enjoy it, I continued with it.

I would be lying if I said that from that day on everything just dropped into place, I felt immediately well, and hey, life is a bed of roses. However, I believe it was a turning point in my recovery, along with a very patient wife, two supportive children, a friend who phoned me every day to see how I was getting on. She, particularly, was a great encouragement since she was someone who had herself recovered from depression. I also had six months’ psychotherapy given free of charge by a wonderful Christian lady who visited the island for a period.

It wasn’t long before I joined the RSPB local group, and La Societe Guernesiaise ornithological group.

I quickly made friends with the folk there, and enjoyed the monthly meetings and the various walks that opened up my eyes to the wonder of bird life in Guernsey. It was great starting to create a list of species seen and savouring the moments when I would see a particular species for the first time.

There was of course the challenge of identifying the birds. It helped being in a group where there was always somebody who could identify the bird for you and share in the pleasure with you. I managed to purchase a second-hand pair of binoculars from a shop in Town. In no time, I was keeping a list of birds seen in Guernsey, and a list seen in the garden which, incidentally, has now reached 68 species, either seen in the garden or feeding above it.

I can remember with great apprehension the time I was asked to lead my first walk, which was in 1998. This was at Belle Greve Bay, the RSPB was running a Wild Week and asked if I would be willing to lead this walk. Little did I know that this would be the first of probably hundreds of walks which I have led since.

In 2008 I was asked at church if I would lead a five-week birdwatching course. It was great fun putting together the framework of each class session, accompanied by photographs which I had managed to glean from the internet.

When the five weeks were completed, I felt quite sad that after all the work I put into this course, that was it. I had the idea to approach the College of Further Education as it was then known. They ran adult classes of numerous subjects and asked them if they would be interested in adding my birdwatching course to the syllabus. After they looked at my material, they agreed to trial it for one year, and to see if there was any interest.

This course proved to be eventually so popular that it carried on for the next 15 years. I have had the pleasure of seeing about 300 people come through my classes, some with mental health problems or other issues, that nature seemed to help with their recovery. It was only during a bout of Covid that I decided to call it a day. It has been a joy for me to hand it over to my friend Richard Vowles and see it continuing successfully.

I have been able to reach a point in my life, not easily, or lightly, when I can say that depression has been the best thing that has happened to me. It has given me a life, interest, friends, appreciation of Guernsey life, that I would never have had other otherwise.

This is the first of two articles, the second will be published next month when I go onto explain how I then got involved with bird photography, examples of which you can see on this page. Again, only achieved because of the journey I have been on, and hopefully encourage someone that there is light at the end of the tunnel. And it might be there in your garden, down the next road, or up in the next tree. To quote the words of Jesus in Matthew 6: 26-27: ‘Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?’

• If you are experiencing any of the things discussed in this article, please seek support. Information on available resources can be found here: www.gov.gg/mentalhealthsupport. For more idea on how you can connect with nature, contact the Nature Commission.