TRAVELLING & MENTAL HEALTH | IN COLLABORATION WITH LNER | AD

I’m very proud to be able to say that I’m collaborating with London North Eastern Railway (LNER) on a series of posts in the run-up to a complimentary first-class trip on June 15^th. 

I wanted to chat a bit about what travelling means for me, how it has impacted my life and my mental health, and how it can be beneficial for you!

I was born in Dorset but moved to the North East before I turned one and once my Mum and I were up here, we only moved to a new house twice – I lived in the final home for almost twenty years before being admitted to the Hospital in Bradford.

I only went on a handful of holidays growing up, and my Aunt had moved to Dubai, so we were fortunate enough to be able to visit her a few times and my Mum and I went to Spain once with one of my friend’s and her Mum. I think that one of my only – and definitely my favourite – memories from my holidays was when we swam with Dolphins in Dubai! Travelling made me happy. 

So, from where I stand; – or sit because I’m typing this on my bed(!) – it’s kind of reasonable for me to have turned to travelling when my mental health first deteriorated. I don’t think my fascination with travelling was really cemented until I moved to my Dad’s home in Dorset in 2011. At first, it was brilliant! I did all the sensible things in notifying mental health services back in Northumberland and then I started to make myself a new life. I enrolled at a local College, I got myself a weekend job at the local Primark and my Dad bought me two kittens in an attempt to replace the cat I’d grown up with at my Mum’s. Of course, mental health doesn’t just stay in one postcode or town. It follows you everywhere! So, when my Step-Mum said she couldn’t deal with having me live there permanently and my Dad told me I’d have to leave, my reaction was to overdose on my anti-depressant medication. I became tachycardia (had a fast heart rate) and collapsed. In Hospital, I was sectioned under the Mental Health Act and taken to a psychiatric hospital for a few days before being discharged to go and collect my suitcase from my Dad’s. It was thrown at me and I was taken to a hotel near the airport to catch a flight the following day; my Mum said that when I called her from the hotel room, I was hysterical.