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SHORTLY BEFORE I began to write my first novel, I found out I had depression. I say ‘found out’ but actually I woke up one day crying and could not stop, and did not stop, for a whole day.
At first I did what any young man of 24 would do: I pretended I was OK, I lied to my local GP, said it was nothing and that I would be fine.
The beginning
I had returned to Ireland to write a book but in reality I had fled to Ireland after my life had collapsed in Australia. I once had a lovely girlfriend, business, an apartment, a charity, did some lecturing on the side and had even found time to import Irish whiskey to Australia (word to the wise – not worth your time!) and was even talking about opening a restaurant.
As the work seemed to increase, so did the stress and when things started to go a bit odd, I started to go a bit odd. In the space of a few weeks, the life I had spent four years building in Australia fell apart, and I brought my wounded frame home to Ireland filled with an anger I hadn’t ever known before.
I thought going home would fix things but when the problem is yourself, no place, no praying, no farming will make that right. The crack had indeed come in and a life ended there – my old life.
I was in denial
Like every young man, I refused to believe there was anything wrong with me. I drank, I exercised, I said I didn’t need tablets – and yet the crying didn’t stop.
The void took me in and kept me there. My family were the ones who saved me then, bringing me to see a counsellor after a few weeks of adamant noes from me, convincing me to take medication after a few weeks of adamant noes, and urging me to try to write.
Writing was, for the best part of a year, the only reason I got out of bed. The resulting book, The Ghost Estate, set in Longford and about a young electrician, was my own story in many ways; a young man who had it all and lost it, and the black dog had gripped him and pulled him down lower and lower as the Celtic Tiger spluttered and died and took the country with it.
What amazed me as I wrote was that local men of the county began to open up to me, perhaps because I was one of them but also a writer. We were living in a community of silence where, as Irish people, we said everything and also said nothing. Where every family had their own story and were afraid to say it.
The black dog
Time moved forward and gradually the dark cloud lifted. I wasn’t sure how, but slowly I thought I was coming back to ‘me’. I moved country and felt the power of myself once more and I met the girl of my dreams and her amazing family. I was finally living out some of my life goals, but, slowly, the black dog crept back for another visit. And this time, he meant business.
He has meant business for the last eight months of my life. At first it was only a low growl but, once again, I was soon waking up in an anxious state, once again I was growing angry and stressed, fighting for no reason.
The dog had struck for the jugular and I was back in the hole; my new life and wedding were gone in a confusing flash. My fiancée had no idea I had been feeling the way I was because, like any man, I kept it all to myself until, finally, weeks after the wedding had been cancelled I admitted I was not OK. In fact I was in the hole again unable to talk, to eat, to share or feel happiness.
The darkest day
This time the battle was fierce, it was a fight that had not been finished and it nearly took my life on a wet January day – when the rain and the hopelessness just seemed too much anymore, and a hayshed was no longer a barn and a rope no longer a tool, but a place and a way to solve this problem once and for all.
I was told once that coincidence is God moving in hidden ways. For surely it was God that day that made me go onto Facebook and see that another friend had taken his life, and had been suddenly reduced to a post on my newsfeed. A whole life reduced to a few hundred words; someone’s son, someone’s grandchild, someone’s friend, someone’s lover. Gone forever.
There, in that moment, I realised there was another way.
Speaking out
The prison of depression, particularly for men, is just that: it takes away your sense of fun, your drive, your compassion, your want and need for social contact. As much as it hurts you, it hurts those around you more because when you lose control they do not know what to do and have to watch their brother, their sister, their aunt, their uncle, their mother, their father slip away from them, day by day, to be replaced by a stranger.
Depression affects one in four of us – it is something that we as humans will come across at one time in our lives.
To those on the journey of healing, do not suffer in silence, there is help out there.
For those thinking of suicide, I know the pain and anguish you have felt and I know when the future seems so blank that you cannot see a way through. However, the world is a better place with you in it, there will never be another me or you or him or her for the rest of time. And though you think that you may have ended your problems, you’ve only created a new set of irreparable ones for those you leave behind.
For those caring for a loved one suffering with depression, do not give up, for though that person has changed, deep inside they need you, they need your support, your calls, or simply for you to sit there and say nothing.
Hope
Every journey through depression is different, every battle with mental health is different, but there is always hope. Though the days may become an endless cycle of groundhog day moments, this will not be forever. It will not define you. There comes a moment when you begin to make the journey inside yourself and find out what really makes you tick.
This may come through many forms; therapy, medication, meditation, talking with a friend or loved one. But when you start to live your life from the inside out, you will find a powerful person that you never knew before.
This is just my story and there are many others but I hope by sharing, I might just reach someone who really needs to read this.
For men reading: it’s OK not to be OK. You need to talk before it’s all too late, before you’ve broken hearts or – most importantly – broken yourself. It takes real courage to speak out, and it’s the bravest thing you will ever do.
John Connell is an author, producer and journalist. Born in county Longford he comes from a farming family. The Ghost Estate is his debut novel and is a modern tragedy about the boom and bust of Celtic Tiger Ireland as told through the rise and fall of ordinary man Gerard McQuaid, an electrician. This is an edited version of John’s original piece.
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Incredible group of parents, thank you for advocating for our beautiful children
@Elena R: FFG over and over failing Irish children
Children start school here at 4 or 5 years of age. We have a census every 5 years, so the statistics are there for how many children need school places, and how many have extra/special needs.
And yet this issue has been ongoing not for years but decades.
If you judge a society by how it treats its weakest and most vulnerable then in this regard our republic is a miserable failure, and shame on successive Education ministers and their civil servants
Would love to know how many of these parents voted for ffg in the recent election
@Brian Molloy: none of them. When you are knee deep in battling the government every day for your basic rights, you tend not to vote for the incumbent government.
@James Smith: you’ll get a woeful boot up the hole if the others get in lol
@Brian Molloy: most of them probably, people in this country don’t like change,good or bad
@Brian Molloy: parents of children with additional & complex needs are often easy prey to the promises of politicians. As a father of 2 kids with autism I know the struggles & the fears. Politicians simply do not care one bit for us & our children.
@Peter Sponge: like the boot in the hole parents are currently getting off the incumbents. Your comment just doesn’t make sense.
@Brian Molloy: the people of Ireland vote for them,
@Peter Sponge: another feckin dope is what you are.
Bigger fool, anyone who believes the Irish government care about these kids.
At the stroke of a pen, a magic money tree appeared for Covid, then Ukraine, then pet projects eg bike shed, children’s hospital and self pay increases. Yes hard work will be involved in correcting these issues for the families, and unfortunately the Gov only put in the hard yards for cover ups.
@paul ruddell: The government will never do enough to support children with special needs or speech delays. Schools may be willing to help by hiring specialized teachers or assistants, but only if funding is provided. Meanwhile, the HSE (Health Service Executive) continues to neglect these children, leaving them on waiting lists for months—or even years.
Time is critical. Every day matters when a child needs speech therapy or a diagnosis. Delays in intervention cause irreversible damage, and once that damage is done, it becomes permanent. This permanence creates lifelong struggles for the child, and parents—along with every family member—are left to shoulder the burden alone. While parents and families fight tirelessly, becoming unsung heroes, the government remains detached, seemingly unaware of the depth of their suffering.
As a parent, I urge others to remember this: Screens and mobile devices cannot replace genuine human interaction and active engagement. Prioritize real communication and meaningful activities—they make all the difference.
I agree with your say
Every single person who gave Fine Gael and Fianna Fáil a vote, this is on you, and the record homelessness numbers this month.
@Jacintha Dumbrell: up yours you haven’t a clue with your flippant comments
@James Fields: on at 3.30am with new account…. berating parents with special needs kids? What’s it like being you?
These parents are so selfish. Don’t they know we need fighter jets?
A billion spent on aslyum seeker accommodation last year, a hundred thousand euro spent yesterday on deporting 30 people. The money is there but it is being spent on other things to keep the EU happy.
All in the name of protecting the vulnerable, yet truely vulnerable aslyum seekers are lost in the mass, while money being spent on free accommodation but the most vulnerable of our society, children with additional needs cannot be supported or educated in the country they were born and their tax paying parents cannot get support. This is insane, people say voting for fffg, but the opposition would still spend the money, look at social democrats who came out today denouncing the deportations and lack of aslyum accommodation,
Loudmouth Barrett, he would be happy to flood the country with Islamists
@Peter Sponge: that’s it you deflect as much as you can
@Peter Sponge: Reported you but in the meantime, maybe spend 2 mins thinking about this 1 of your million dum comments. You’ve attempted to antagonise and provoke folks about kids with special needs? You lo lyfe sk-um nugget. Get help.
@James Fields: Peter, jim, dave… you awake? If p .Sponge is already deleted, then I’ll just come after “james” and all your accounts. But seriously, are you paid to troll here? If not, then listen to everyone who tells you….. you need help.
@Peter Sponge: Clearly you know nothing about disability, highly offensive and ignorant comment. Stand with families who have kids with disabilities rather than such ignorance.
Does she not know what their concerns are. Typical of her,as usual .
The government will never do enough to support children with special needs or speech delays. Schools may be willing to help by hiring specialized teachers or assistants, but only if funding is provided. Meanwhile, the HSE (Health Service Executive) continues to neglect these children, leaving them on waiting lists for months—or even years.
Time is critical. Every day matters when a child needs speech therapy or a diagnosis. Delays in intervention cause irreversible damage, and once that damage is done, it becomes permanent. This permanence creates lifelong struggles for the child, and parents—along with every family member—are left to shoulder the burden alone. While parents and families fight tirelessly, becoming unsung heroes, the government remains detached, seemingly unaware of the depth of their suffering.
As a parent, I urge others to remember this: Screens and mobile devices cannot replace genuine human interaction and active engagement. Prioritize real communication and meaningful activities—they make all the difference.
Does she not know what their concerns are. Typical of her. As usual .
Lots of money and accommodation for those who don’t like us very much, but not for Irish children.
Sure we’re a great country.
Sadly this is not new news and each government have been fully aware of this ÿou need a country wide march with families standing together shake the core of them to their utter shame
HSE have loads of managers to compile reports and do assessments. But have rarely met any speech or occupational therapy people for my kid. The field is exclusively women and many go on maternity leave and never return. Or take years off for sabbaticals. Work life balance is great, but we need more people in general in these services and we need it to be gender balanced.
@DAN TEDSON: fathers can take sabbaticals too.
Badly behaved kids, a good clip round the ear is needed
@Peter Sponge: dear journal, can’t you delete anything that comes from this degenerates ip address?
Yeah, I totally agree. Tell me about it. I had to apply to 43 schools to secure a secondary school place in an ASD class for my son, balancing this with full-time work. Despite schools offering online applications for neurotypical students, many demand paper applications for ASD places, forcing me to deliver 12 applications personally. My husband even took a day off work for this nonsense. We’ve had to pay for everything—OT, speech therapy, private tuition, educational assessment—you name it. While the NDT shifts responsibility to parents after a one-hour course. The state offers just 40 summer tuition hours, and HSE assessments are inaccessible. Meanwhile, Sensational Kids faced roadblocks in opening a new Kildare assessment centre. The system is failing our kids.
T-h-e-r-a-p-i-s-t is a banned word on this platform?
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