Looking After Each Other – a focus on mental health

“There must be sympathy, sensitivity and awareness to treat a person as a person.” Sangharakshita, A Case of Dysentery lecture.

It was in the spirit of the teachings in the A Case of Dysentery lecture (a case that concerns us all) that the Abhayaratna Trust was founded as a vehicle to help us look after our fellow Order members around the world, offering support, advice and also financial assistance in cases of hardship. 

In addition to our regular work (explore our website www.abhayaratnatrust.org for details), during the first half of 2021, the Abhayaratna Trust is focusing on an important area of wellbeing in the Order – mental health. We’ll be posting a series of interviews intended to open a deeper conversation among Order Members, and posting resources on a dedicated webpage.

This month, Silajala, currently volunteering with the Trust, responds to questions from Taradakini, the Trust’s grants and care co-ordinator.

Taradakini: Silajala, thank you very much for opening up this conversation about mental health in the Order. Could you tell us a little about your background?

Silajala: I’m originally from Birmingham, but lived in Bristol from 1992-2018, with the exception of a couple of ‘Brixits’ when I lived and worked with Buddhafield, and a year in London with the Karuna Trust. I was ordained in 2001, Vessantara being my private preceptor – my name means ‘he who is ablaze with ethical behaviour’. I now live in Devon with three other Order members.

Taradakini: You have experience of mental health difficulties - when did this start?

Silajala: Some Order members will know that back in 2014, when I was mitra convenor in Bristol, one of my closest mitra friends at the time committed suicide. This precipitated in me a breakdown. However, since my late teens, and especially my late twenties, I’ve been no stranger to periods of depression, episodes of self harm, anxiety and overwhelm.

When Martin died, my mental health took a dive, and I became overwhelmed much more easily than previously. After pushing on, as well as taking time out, I realised I couldn’t carry on and I stopped mitra convening.

How was it to be around the sangha at that time?

Silajala: I found it really hard to keep going to the Bristol Buddhist Centre. If I did happen to go there, I found it very hard to admit how bad I felt, except to those who I was close to, and even then I was tired of trying to explain what was going on. I wanted to be as I was before, I wanted to be able to be friendly, to teach, to engage with others and offer them support - but I just didn’t have it in me.

Sometimes I would just try and put aside how I felt and give as much as I could. This would work up to a point, but then there'd be a price to pay, a kind of kickback as what I’d pushed aside reasserted itself demanding to be felt and known. Eventually I felt I couldn’t go on and stopped work in order to recover.

 I imagine it was embarrassing, even excruciating at times for this side of yourself - in clear need of attention and healing - to be seen or even suspected by people used to seeing you in a certain way?

Silajala: I recall one local sangha weekend retreat we did at Adhisthana which I found deeply hard. I was embarrassed by how I felt, and feared what people would think of me. A sort of splitting would occur, where if I went to the Buddhist Centre or another sangha event, I’d be doing my best to present a cheerful Silajala or at least friendliness, but underneath I was falling apart.

Even being around a group of people talking would be taxing at that time; sounds seemed amplified; movement around me difficult to track. I couldn’t process all the stimuli. So although I tried to engage, it often led to me feeling worse, and in turn my self-esteem would rapidly deteriorate, deepening the sense of falling.

What sort of support did you receive from the sangha?

Silajala: By and large everyone I knew around the sangha did their utmost to support and understand me. Some did a great job of this; others said things which though well intentioned weren’t helpful, and I’d then have to sift through carefully in my mind the triggering which had occurred as a result of what they’d said. Of course my mental health troubles were caught up with Martin’s suicide. I have sometimes wondered how I would’ve responded if I hadn’t had a previous history of mental health difficulties.

 What changed things for you?

Silajala: Although as I say people did their best, it wasn’t until I phoned Survivors of Bereavement by Suicide (S.O.B.S. - not the greatest acronym!) that I finally felt the complexity of grief and mental health breakdown particular to me was fully recognised. It was like some sort of miracle. This person really knew what I was going through, as they too had been bereaved by suicide. When I said I thought I was going mad they knew what that was like. The relief was huge. I also contacted Crisis (mental health helpline) because I was having suicidal thoughts, and didn’t know how serious to take them. They took me seriously and assessed there and then that I was in recovery from the shock of Martin’s death. Subsequently I then entered the local mental health services and received help from them. For a couple of years I had a key worker visit me regularly. Ironically one of his colleagues was a mitra who I used to ‘convene’! It was an interesting turnaround, from being the ‘helper’ to the ‘helped’, and somewhat humbling; part of the process which unfolded was about identification and one could perhaps say a spiritual death.

Once you had been understood in this unconditional, strongly empathetic way, was there a letting go in yourself? An acceptance that was a turning point?

 It’s important to state that nothing changed quickly; it was like I had been thrown into a descent and the best option was to surrender to it, and really open to whatever came and however long it took. Part of that meant truly allowing myself to choose, like I had to really deeply know that I had choice in everything in my life. That choice came in many forms, but in particular it was about being in the Order and really throwing the Dharma up for questioning too. I definitely went through a crisis of faith. I was literally like “what the **** is the Dharma, what is this all about?” And in that process something slowly shifted in me. I did feel freer for a while, but it was also scary at times.

Another key factor which arose deeply in me was the realisation that I really did have the choice whether or not I lived or chose to take my own life. I remember realising that there is a ‘death force’ in existence, and somehow this helped me see clearly the life force too, and in that seeing I opened up to it and chose to live. It’s difficult to explain, I visited some dark spaces and was doing my best to open to the Descent and trust the process. But one has to be careful doing this; you can get close to the edges, even the Abyss, and see that it’s there. But it is also seductive and can pull you in. I think it’s important to see and know those places, but also to know you have to come back - don’t stay there.

  What else helped at this time?

My chapter were amazing - and still are! Some of them had known me since I first walked through the Buddhist Centre doors, and they’d all seen me through my ordination process, so I was extremely fortunate to have such depth of friendship with them. They’d certainly been through their own descents at times, and along with having strong Dharma practices they were also well steeped in psychological work. Personally I think this is really solid ground on which to support anyone in the Order having mental health problems.

 Also my girlfriend at the time was consistently kind and attentive to me. Even though sadly we had our struggles (largely accentuated due to my breakdown), I am deeply grateful for her unfailing support to me during that time. There were quite a few other close Order friends, particularly my kalyana mitras and Preceptor, as well as friends and mitras in the Sangha who simply continued to show me kindness – it is never to be underestimated how powerful this can be. Although I couldn’t face people very much – without fully knowing it I felt a lot of shame – I can still recall various acts of kindness which looking back now I see were keeping me sane.

I would also encourage anyone to practice openness, to speak up about their difficulties, no matter how dark things are for them. But choose who you speak to carefully. Not everyone can take on board people who are in deep waters, be careful not to re-trigger yourself. Anyone who knows me will know how sensitive I am (!) but I think when you’re suffering with depression and anxiety you can be even more sensitised to everything.

  What would you say to someone reading this who can identify with the split between being a helpful, friendly, sangha engaged Order member and privately experiencing overwhelm from being around people mental health difficulties?

Hmm… well, I think we all face the challenge of being true to our individuality and when we experience deeply conflicting aspects of ourselves this becomes even more apparent – it puts you to the test. It may be that you simply don’t feel able to attend sangha events, and maybe you don’t even go out much at all. I would say that’s ok, if you force yourself to do such things it will probably deepen the split. But if you only wait until you feel ok before attending things you might never go out, and your social anxiety may well get worse. At some point I think you have to consider facing that challenge and perhaps try attending things. It’s a really tricky balance to strike. I found I had to continually befriend those overwhelmed aspects of my being, cut a deal with them, so to speak, and I’d have to really stay in touch with myself listening to what I needed as I attended events.

Breaking things into small chunks is really effective too. I remember one Sangha Day where I just knew it’d be too much for me to attend the whole thing, so I just went at lunchtime so I could see a few friends (and eat nice food!). This really helped. I built up some confidence and those fragile parts of me were honoured and loved, rather than kept out. This was gradually integrating, and of course was loving. You might also consider whether there are close friends you could attend things with, or tune in with when you’re at an event. I did this with Buddhafield festival and the Order conventions, and knowing I had ‘anchoring points’ was very reassuring. Essentially it really does boil down to kindness, whatever is happening for us/to us needs kindness – no exceptions!

  And to someone reading this and unsure or even avoiding how to help someone where they suspect mental health support could be appropriate? 

This is a tricky area. I think the simplest thing to do is to make contact, extend the hand of fellowship as the saying goes, but don’t in any way make assumptions about the person in question. Text or phone them, send them a card saying hello and asking if they fancy a catch up at some point, etc. Hang out with them. Then, when you’re in connection with them, you might perhaps tentatively explore further whether they might be suffering with their mental health. It depends of course on how close you are. Building up trust is paramount before broaching the subject of their health. Otherwise they’ll probably back off and it’ll be even harder next time to approach them. Don’t immediately give advice, be careful not to ‘preach’ the Dharma to them, and aim to make listening your priority.

I just want to add that I am conscious we are currently living in very different circumstances now with regard to covid and the limitations that puts on us, so what I’ve said will of course need to be adapted for our times. And any mental health pressures people may be feeling could well be particular to the pandemic, isolation, etc. I hope nonetheless that opening up the area of mental health and conversing about it will be of benefit whatever situations any of us are in.

 How are things for you now, Silajala? Would you say you have ‘recovered’ your mental health?

I think the process of recovery can’t be given time limits, rather like the grieving process - there’s no precise right or wrong way to do it, and if we tell ourselves ‘I should be better by now’, that can put a spanner in the works. I like to remember that mental health stuff is a health matter: if someone has stomach or migraine problems all their life do they put a pressure on themselves to be well? Often these conditions are recurring and the key is to live with them, not get rid of them. Of course the paradox is that sometimes this in itself does heal the problem. So I live with mental health difficulties basically. And as anyone would if they have recurring migraines or say, heart trouble, I work with it and watch for the triggers and try and catch them before they get a hold of me, and so on.

I’m aware that opening up this conversation about mental health has challenged me, writing about it sometimes has stirred me up and I’ve had to pull back. So I’d like to finally add that for anyone experiencing mental health troubles and wanting to explore it in the Order, do be careful too. Go at your own pace, check in with yourself whether or not you’re comfortable to disclose certain things, and see if you can sense when you need to stop. And do plenty of enjoyable, pleasurable and nourishing things too – they are vital supports for holding the tricky stuff.

 Thank you Silajala, for your courage and willingness to share something of your experience. May it be of benefit to you and all who read this. 

The Abhayaratna Trust supports Order members to access mental health resources, such as psychotherapy, CBT, EMDR and counselling. If you want to get in touch for signposting, wellbeing grants or to share your story, in the first instance email Taradakini@abhayaratnatrust.org or message her on (+44) 07857 351818.

Visit our dedicated mental wellbeing page here