Latest news with #Mind
BBC News
a day ago
- Health
- BBC News
The Hull Boy goes the extra miles to set a new record
A 17-year-old known as The Hull Boy has described becoming the youngest person to run the entire length of the UK as "surreal".Marcus completed the journey from Land's End to John O'Groats on raising about £130,000 for a mental health charity, he said the 58 days of running had been "the best months of his life".Marcus – whose nickname comes from his love of Hull City FC – is the first person under 18 to have completed the adventure. The teenager, who lives with his parents in Malton, North Yorkshire, has openly talked about his struggles with his physical and mental health."At the age of 15 I attempted to not be here any more," he said."I was 145kg [22.8 stone], diabetic, struggling badly with depression, anxiety and OCD."As a young carer for his father he felt unable to speak out about his own struggles, so he said he bottled up his started to run one mile a day before taking part in his first marathon in September, accompanied by his friend Russ Cook – known as the Hardest Geezer – who made global headlines after running the length of by Mr Cook, he said his dream was to run the length of the UK, and he hoped to raise £20,000 for the mental health charity said the journey was "very tough" and that at times it was wet, dark and a "lonely adventure".But there were also some unforgettable moments, from running alongside deer to enjoying amazing sunrises and said that running for a good cause brought people together."It's been beautiful. The last few weeks have been surreal," he added. Celebrity attention His challenge caught the attention of celebrities, and on day four of the run he received a special Olympic medal holder Sir Mo Farah posted on social media saying: "Keep going champ! Anything is possible."Former NFL star JJ Watt also sent a message, saying: "Just over a year ago, you began a journey to change your life and along the way, you changed the lives of so many others."Marcus said he met many "incredible" people along the way but one of his best moments was when someone drove four hours to find him on the road and share their story about mental on BBC Breakfast on Friday, he told Naga Munchetty and Charlie Stayt that he went to use the toilet at a supermarket thinking he had raised £70,000, but by the time he came out he realised he had raised £100, said he would now be doing nothing for a few days apart from resting and spending time with his family and dog Bruce. Listen to highlights from Hull and East Yorkshire on BBC Sounds, watch the latest episode of Look North or tell us about a story you think we should be covering here.
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Celebs share how they plan to remember loved ones this Celebration Day
Lindsey Burrow, wife of rugby league legend Rob Burrow, planted wildflowers today at the National Trust's Quarry Bank to mark Celebration Day this week. It is dedicated to honouring those who have inspired and shaped us long after they've died. Rob Burrow was a beloved sportsman who inspired many with his courage after a 2019 motor neurone disease diagnosis. He died in 2024, leaving a lasting legacy of awareness and advocacy. Wearing a Celebration Day star pin badge (available at WHSmith stores across the UK), Lindsey joined staff from the National Trust's Quarry Bank to help launch Celebration Day's free 'Seeds of Memory' wildflower packs. The seed packets are available for free at 94 National Trust second-hand bookshops in England and Wales, giving people a chance to plant in memory of someone special at home. Held annually on the last May bank holiday Monday, and Inspired by traditions like Mexico's Day of the Dead, Celebration Day provides a dedicated opportunity for the nation to celebrate the lives of those who have shaped us - whether through personal connections, history, or culture. Speaking at Quarry Bank, Lindsey said: 'Planting wildflower seeds at Quarry Bank in memory of Rob to mark Celebration Day has been really special. 'I love the idea behind Celebration Day – it's a gentle reminder to pause, reflect, and celebrate the people who have shaped our lives.' Free 'Wildflower Seeds of Memory 'packs are part of a wider initiative that includes a Celebration Day memorial woodland at the National Trust's Dunham Massey, where over two years, 5,000 trees have been planted thanks to public donations. Later this year, during tree planting season, the conservation charity has invited Lindsey to plant a tree in memory of Rob. She added: 'Doing something simple like scattering seeds can open up conversations, especially with children, and help create new memories in their honour. 'Rob always loved nature, and doing something like this – something gentle and meaningful – feels like a really special way to keep him close. 'The kids and I talk about him all the time, and I know we'll be planting more wildflowers together at home on Celebration Day, when Rob will be in our thoughts.' In addition to collecting free packs of Wildflower Seeds of Memory, other organisations such as WHSmith across the UK are providing Celebration Day Star Pins until June 27. 100 per cent of profits going to supporting Mind, The Royal Marsden Cancer Charity, Make-A-Wish, and Hospice UK. It comes as a poll commissioned for Celebration Day reveals that one in three Britons feel guilty talking openly about death, fearing they might burden others. Celebration Day is a national day - like Mother's Day or Remembrance Sunday, but for everyone - that aims to break this taboo by encouraging people to take time to celebrate the lives of those no longer with us. A host of well-known faces have joined Lindsey in supporting Celebration Day. Mel Giedroyc, host of Where There's a Will, There's a Wake podcast, shared that she will be remembering her parents and parents-in-law, all of whom have died in recent years. Former England rugby captain Chris Robshaw, who lost his father at the age of five, said he plans to honour his golf-loving dad by playing 18 holes in his memory. Hollywood actor Helena Bonham Carter has recorded her favourite poem in memory of her grandmother 'Bubbles' at Abbey Road Studios to mark Celebration Day. Helena said: 'Celebration Day is May the 26th, which happens to be my birthday! 'I love how we're a patchwork of every single person we've met, and every single person we've loved, and we still contain them. 'Even if people die, they remain part of our fabric, our internal world, and we need to stop, in this crazy world, and have permission to stop - a day in which we can invoke them, and remember them, and let them live again, through us.' Great British Bake Off judge Dame Prue Leith added: 'We don't spend enough time thinking about, talking about or celebrating the people we have loved, admired or been bewitched by. 'Go on, give Celebration Day a go. ' Write a memoir or drink a toast to them, plant a tree in their memory, or just put his or her picture on social media with a wee tribute.'
BBC News
4 days ago
- General
- BBC News
Mental health charity report on treatment of black people
The way black people are treated when they are detained under the Mental Health Act has been examined in a new at the Berkshire branch of charity Mind published the report, which looks into access to mental health care and comes after data from 2021 and 2023 showed black people were more than three times as likely to be detained under the Mental Health Act than white people in the was commissioned to engage with black communities, staff and groups to "understand the context" behind the figures. Berkshire Healthcare NHS Foundation Trust commissioned the report as part of a programme addressing inequalities in local mental health services. A statement from co-CEOs of Mind in Berkshire, Jess Willsher and Joel Rose, said the report "represents an important step in understanding the experiences and perspectives of black communities in Berkshire about mental health services". 'Community voices' The report was based on feedback from more than 180 people, and the charity said key themes included concerns over systemic racial bias and experiences of poor treatment and outcomes for black individuals using mental health feedback included a stigma around mental health in some black communities, a need for greater cultural awareness and representation in the mental health workforce and the impact of intergenerational trauma and mistrust in Willsher and Mr Rose said it was important the findings "lead to constructive and collaborative change, across the system, so that disparities are reduced and experiences improve".Dr Kathryn MacDermott, from Berkshire Healthcare NHS Foundation Trust, added: "At the heart of this project are lived experience and community voices. "We welcome the findings of the report and will continue to work with Mind in Berkshire, embedding learnings from the report within the ongoing work we are doing." You can follow BBC Berkshire on Facebook, X (Twitter), or Instagram.
Times
23-05-2025
- Health
- Times
After my father died I was sectioned with severe psychosis
'Bomb!' Again. Tell them again. 'Bomb! There's a bomb in my bag!' The conveyor belt slams to a halt and an alarm screams. People rush away and rush forward, dive to my right and hop to my left, and now smartphone camera lights are flashing. Then I am surrounded by security personnel. 'Ma'am, you'll need to come with me please.' The woman speaking is dressed as an airport official. But she's part of the sex-trafficking ring I fled weeks before in LA. I just know. What to do? Follow her to arrest, to interrogation? Or run? The guards flanking her are armed. They escort me, against my will, to a low-lit room where an injection is produced. A lethal injection. *** As it turns out, the injection was not lethal. And I was not in fact an accidental terrorist with a bomb in my bag being pursued by an international sex-trafficking gang who wanted to impregnate me for their ring. Instead I was a grieving woman in the midst of a psychotic break. Despite its prevalence — the charity Mind estimates as many as 1 in 100 people will experience psychosis in their lifetime — psychosis remains deeply misunderstood. Consisting of delusions and hallucinations that follow themes of persecution and surveillance among sufferers, psychosis is not a condition in and of itself such as bipolar disorder or schizophrenia but sometimes a symptom of those conditions. You can also experience it as a result of not sleeping, from taking illegal drugs or after having a baby. And you also don't need to have a family history of it. I didn't, although I'd suffered anorexia as a teenager. In my case it was a response to severe trauma — the death of my dad from a heart attack at the age of 67, a death I was informed about on the phone by the police. The funeral directors advised against viewing the body 'on account of the decay'. It was late summer and he'd been gently rotting in his home for several days before a neighbour found him. As I was living in London at the time, I went to Yorkshire to arrange the funeral alone, and waited for my mum to fly over from Brisbane, Australia, where she and my brother live. • Suddenly, at 31, I had no next of kin in the UK. I was in a one-sided 'relationship' with a guy who lived in LA (he wouldn't call it a relationship), and was spending most of my time and money flying back and forth between there and London, barely supporting myself with freelance journalism. In London I lived alone in a shabby rented flat, but I had regular work with Sky News and the BBC as a commentator and writer. In LA, where I did not have a work visa, I subsisted in a basement not far from where the Manson Family had committed some of their appalling murders. Occasionally I would see The Guy, but mostly I spent my days pitching for UK writing commissions while begging for crumbs of his attention. Constantly jet-lagged, emotionally abandoned and now grieving, I started to unravel. It began with paranoia about my relationship. Was the reason this guy was so unavailable because he was secretly seeing other women? I spent hours combing through social media, looking for clues. A trip to a conference in Vegas amped up the anxiety. He was working and too busy to see me most of the time, and I drifted about the airless casinos, deep in grief and burgeoning suspicion. I had also started taking the odd Adderall pill to combat the jet lag. Later I would be told by doctors that the Adderall had not caused my psychosis. But the drug, which contains amphetamine and is banned in the UK, had certainly not helped. Every morning I woke with an increasing jolt of panic. Cortisol rushed through my body. Was I in denial about this crappy relationship? Or was there more going on? As a journalist I am attuned to noticing inconsistencies. Why did that person say that? What is so-and-so hiding? And out of these inconsistencies I am always trying to stitch together the facts. In this case the 'facts' now rolled in thick and fast. A trip to NYC with a peculiar meeting in the Empire State Building? Must have been with the Mob. Prescription pills I didn't recognise in The Guy's bathroom? Must be antiretroviral medication. That's it. That's why he treats me so terribly. He is in fact gay, with HIV, and he is using me for some greater purpose I haven't yet figured out. • I don't remember the moment I settled on it being because he was part of a sex-trafficking gang and trying to impregnate me 'for the ring'. But I do remember one morning waking up so terrified that I simply caught the red-eye back to London without telling him and never returned. In London, meanwhile, I became ever more convinced that I was in grave danger. I'd spent much of my career working on stories about male sexual depravity and the vulnerable women who 'knew too much'. I was an expert here. Suspicious of my therapist, I instead went to the GP, who listened to my story and said, 'It sounds terrifying. You need to go to the police.' I did go to the police. Several times. On the final occasion I explained yet again about the sex-trafficking ring, and about being a journalist and knowing too much, and about how they would now find me and kill me, all at breakneck psychotic speed. And then I froze. 'Please don't write that down!' I cried. 'They'll kill me!' The police officer put his pen down and looked thoughtfully and then said, 'OK, I won't report this if you go round the corner [to the hospital] and get yourself checked out.' At the hospital, when I told the doctor there my story, he merely offered me beta blockers. I was so paranoid that I refused them, at which point he became irritated and I was discharged. I was feeling more terrified than when I had arrived, and the nurses took pity on me and let me sleep in their private room until the morning. And then I was back in the world, on my own and still psychotic. A few weeks later, petrified that I was going to be raped at a political party I'd been invited to, I pre-emptively took the morning-after pill. I made an appointment to write my will for my family's sake, and decided to leave the UK. And then I found out I was pregnant. I told only one person about the abortion, and that was the close friend who accompanied me. I was barely speaking to my family by this point. Every morning I woke up with a new 'realisation' about the Ring. Yet I was careful not to tell those I loved about these realisations. It would only endanger them. • Cannabis psychosis: how super-powered skunk blew our minds Meanwhile, Mum had begun to sense something was desperately wrong. She called family friends, who prepared to come and get me from London. But before they could collect me I had booked a flight to Brisbane. I needed to make it home. Those 26 or so hours travelling to Australia while in the height of psychosis will remain some of the most traumatic of my life. It was at this point that I began to believe there was a bomb in my suitcase, somehow planted there by the sex traffickers I'd managed to escape. When I realised this I duly informed the plane's flight attendants — already concerned about my mental health thanks to my distressed appearance — about the 'traffickers'. When we landed in Singapore to change planes I was approached by a medical escort who had been assigned to care for me. She gave me some kind of sedative tablet, which I slyly spat out, and I gave her the slip. I missed my connecting flight. Some time later, when the staff, who were by now aware I was very unwell, had found a seat for me on another flight, I placed my suitcase on the security conveyor belt by the gate and screamed, 'Bomb!' Somehow the staff managed to get my mum on the phone. 'Listen, love,' she said, her voice quavering, 'you've got to get on the plane home.' Did I trust her? I didn't know. But something cut through in the moment. It was our mother-daughter bond. So I agreed. By the time the plane prepared for landing, I was having full-on visual hallucinations. I became hysterical. 'I want my mum!' I cried over and over. I was escorted off the plane and rushed through security. And there, waiting on the other side, was my mum. I fell into her arms, both of us weeping. Once home, both my mum and my brother listened to my delusional stories. My brother began to cry silently. I was taken to my mum's local GP. In the waiting room I started to smell burning flesh. I looked down. It was me. I was cooking from the inside. But there was no point explaining to my family, I decided. Then I was called in to see the doctor. After listening to a minute of my story, without hesitation he diagnosed a psychotic break. I was given yet another injection to calm me. I collapsed and was then taken to Logan Hospital, where I was sectioned ('involuntary admission' it's called in Australia) for six weeks. *** Recovery from psychosis was terrifying. In hospital I still believed my extreme theories, only now I was being treated as 'crazy' for simply telling the truth. The male patients were all potential rapists, I felt. But gradually, through a combination of antipsychotic medication and therapy, I began to realise some of what I thought didn't make sense. Bit by bit, day by day, I began to return to my 'sane' self. But now I had PTSD from my madcap adventures, and my body and brain were racked with fear. What's more, my visa was running out. I had no choice but to leave my family and return to the UK. After the psychotic high came the low. I was no longer 'mad' but I was so depressed I was suicidal, and frequently had to take an extra step back from the Tube platform on my way to work. But with the help of an excellent NHS clinical psychologist, in time I got better. Integrating back into my London life was tricky. I wanted to explain to the editors and producers I worked for what had happened, but I was wary of them thinking I was now mentally defunct, no longer a 'trusted voice' on any of the things I'd spent years researching and writing about. I also knew I had an incredible story to tell but it was still so triggering and so painful to recount that I would not be able to do that for many years. This month marks ten years since that experience, an experience that has permanently transformed my relationship with my mind. These days I have private therapy, don't drink and keep a strict sleep schedule. Most people take for granted their sanity. But what psychosis has taught me is that the line between reality and fantasy is much thinner than most of us realise, and anyone can become psychotic. These days I don't worry about entering psychosis again. For one, I'd recognise the symptoms, were it to return. But, more important, having fallen down the rabbit hole of my mind and clawed my way back up again, what is there to fear?
The Courier
23-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Courier
DCA cinema ticket stub turns 'collector's item' after comic book artist's tribute
Superhero films have divided critics recently, but they're back in a big way this year. Marvel's Thunderbolts*, starring Florence Pugh, was confirmed this week as having made more than 300 million dollars (£222m) at the box office, making it the fourth biggest film of 2025 so far. Thunderbolts is the latest in a long line of superhero cinema smashes from the Marvel comic book universe. Yet when Dundee comic artist Dan McDaid saw Thunderbolts*, it wasn't the action scenes and fighting which connected with him, so much as the film's unexpected focus on mental health issues. It would spoiler the film to go into detail, but more than one character in it has depression. McDaid was so inspired by how Thunderbolts* discussed mental health, that he's drawn the team of anti-heroes on his cinema ticket from Dundee Contemporary Arts and is auctioning it on eBay for the UK mental health charity Mind. 'I feel like the Marvel films had been growing a little uneven and lacklustre over the last few years, and there was too much additional homework needed to understand what was going on,' says McDaid, who has lived in Dundee for twenty years and is originally from Cornwall. 'Thunderbolts* was refreshingly free of that. It's incredibly exciting and very funny, but it also goes out of its way to say something about mental health issues and dealing with trauma.' As one of the leading comic artists in the UK, who has drawn the adventures of such diverse and well-known characters as Superman, Judge Dredd and Doctor Who, as well as previously working with Trainspotting novelist Irvine Welsh, anything McDaid puts his pen to is a collector's item. This auction, then, is a means of drawing attention to mental health issues in a different way. 'The idea just popped into my head,' he says. 'I'd been to see the film once, loved it, went to see it again, loved it even more, and felt very moved by the movie's themes. 'I think everyone has someone in their lives who has been touched by mental health issues, so the theme is universal, and this film tackles it in such an intelligent and accessible way. 'Anyway, I looked at my big DCA ticket stub, thought 'you could probably fit a pretty nice sketch on that' and just went for it. Mind seemed the most obvious beneficiary of the auction.' As well as paying tribute to the film and helping a good cause, McDaid's auction also tips its hat to Dundee Contemporary Arts, which has shared his auction on its social media. 'The DCA is the jewel in Dundee's crown for me, a world class arts cinema with a great restaurant, bar and creative hub for local artistic talent,' he says. 'I'm down there usually a few times a month, either for a drink or to catch a film. It's also one of the few cinemas that still offers a proper ticket stub instead of a simple receipt, and long may it continue.' The auction ends on Saturday May 24.
