October is the month when, annually, we celebrate World Mental Health Day. This year’s theme is ‘Mental health is a universal human right’. The aim of the day is to raise awareness and make positive changes. It’s also a specific date in our diaries to make time to talk about mental health – looking after ourselves and, more importantly, how to get help if we need it.

In England, one of this year’s QOF QI modules looks at wellbeing and our teams. We’re required (if not already doing so) to introduce processes in an attempt to increase resilience alongside creating a compassionate and supportive culture in the workplace. The QI module’s long-term aim is to reduce burnout.

Through my IGPM role, I’ve heard about some fantastic things already happening in practices up and down the country – from supplying weekly fruit boxes and regular social events, to online resources focusing solely on staff wellbeing. This proves that a compassionate culture already exists in many places. But while we’re looking after our teams, who is looking after you? Do you have the opportunity to talk to anyone if you’re having struggles?

I greatly value the opportunity to talk. My GP partners are very open and supportive and I have an amazing friend/colleague who I can lean on as and when I need to. There are local PM/PCN/LMC colleagues who will happily listen to me having a rant and a moan in confidence – just as I do for them. The IGPM consists of a diverse group of like-minded professionals who are also there to offer guidance. I’ve bent a few of those ears and cried on their shoulders too!

Being able to chat with people who understand our work pressures and frustrations means that my long-suffering husband only gets to hear about my everyday gripes. He really is a lucky man!

This hasn’t always been the case though. Turning the clock back a bit, things weren’t so good. My own mental health took a massive nose dive, helped eagerly on its way by a good dose of menopause, and I burned out.

I thought I was behaving normally, but I understand now that I wasn’t. I was placing high expectations on myself and allowing others to do the same. I was scared of being seen as a failure if something didn’t go to plan. I felt I wasn’t getting much done (when, in fact, I was achieving a lot). And I couldn’t say no because I was afraid of looking weak or causing disappointment. I overthought scenarios, trying to plan for all eventualities (both good and bad) just in case.

This meant I had a really hard time trying to relax. In the bath: thinking what if…? Cooking dinner: rewinding the day in my head. Lying in bed: trying to prioritise tasks for the following day. These thoughts became all-consuming and stole the real me. I couldn’t read anymore (I used to manage a book a week). I wasn’t interested in TV; I just wanted to sit and stare at the wall.

Procrastination became my new hobby. I was fearful of being criticised for poor achievements or constantly worrying about what my team might think of me.

So, where did I go from here? I sat one evening, sobbing in my husband’s arms, and simply said, “I can’t do this anymore.” I wrote a detailed eConsult to my GP who rang the next day and issued a Med3.

I had to stop. Press reset. Then, slowly but surely, build myself back.

Time out made me think (yes, I thought about the hundreds of accruing emails and if anyone had bought milk and toilet rolls…). Importantly, though, I thought about myself, what I needed and what I should do. My answer was to try and find me again. I’ve always been a crafter – knitting, decoupage, embroidery, etc., but I needed to do something initially that didn’t require too much concentration. And that’s how I found jewellery-making. It’s how I practise mindfulness and, even now, I can lose myself in beautiful beads and glittery gems.

I made changes professionally too – new practice, shared responsibilities, regular breaks and I don’t take work home.

I wish I’d known then what I know now. It’s okay to say no. It’s okay to close the office door. It’s okay to take a step back and breathe.

Practice Managers are an amazing group of people. We’re multi-skilled, multi-talented, tenacious, diligent and bloody hard-working. But, please remember, above all, take care of yourself. If you recognise in yourself any of the things that I’ve experienced, you’re not alone. Reach out, it’s a universal human right.

You’ve got this. We’ve got this. x