Navigating a New World: A Journey That Changed My Life
Navigating a New World: A Journey That Changed My Life In November 2022, my life changed in ways I could never have anticipated. What began as a relentless headache quickly spiralled into something far more serious; a brain abscess that almost ended my life. That was over two years ago, and in the time since, this experience has pushed me to question everything I thought I knew about myself, about resilience, and about the way mental health is understood; not just by individuals but by organisations and businesses alike. This post is the final chapter of the MHFABlog series (but not the end of Mental Health blog posts), and while it marks the end of this journey, it also serves as a reflection of how far I have come. My partner affectionately refers to me as Mark V2.0 (born December 2022), and she is not wrong. The person I am today has been shaped by the challenges I faced and the lessons I have learned. Recovery was not just about healing physically; it was about rebuilding my perspective, my priorities, and my purpose. One of the most striking realisations I have had is how little we, as a society, truly understand mental health. Many individuals and organisations claim to value it, but their actions often tell a different story. This has driven me to become an advocate and a Mental Health First Aider, not just for awareness, but for meaningful change. Mental health cannot remain a buzzword or a box to tick; it must be embedded in how we live, work, and support one another. As I take you through this final chapter, I want to share the personal journey that has brought me here. It is a story about resilience, transformation, and the power of the people around us. It is also a call to action for businesses and communities to move beyond assumptions and embrace a deeper understanding of what mental health truly means. This post is not just about my challenges or triumphs. It is about the lessons we can all take forward; about questioning what we think we know and being open to learning, changing, and growing. Over two years ago, my life took an unexpected turn, and while it was not a path I chose, it has led me to a mission that I am deeply passionate about. I hope this post inspires you to see mental health in a new light; not as an abstract idea, but as something that touches every aspect of our lives. “The show must go on.” – Traditional Proverb “Change brings opportunity.” – Nido Qubein “Embrace each challenge in your life as an opportunity for self-transformation.” – Bernie S. Siegel The Day My World Changed It started as just another day. In November 2022, I began experiencing a persistent headache (while working away from home) on the left side of my head. It didn’t seem extraordinary, just one of those things you try to push through, chalking it up to a mild flu-like illness. As the days went by, the headache did not leave. It grew. By the time I realised something was seriously wrong, it had already started to take over my life. The diagnosis? A brain abscess. Even now, over two years later, the words feel surreal. This was not something I had ever prepared for. Who does? One day, you are managing the day-to-day demands of life, and the next, you are being told you are in a life-threatening situation. It is not the kind of thing that fits into a tidy narrative or a neatly organised plan. Life as I knew it simply stopped. What stands out most to me now is not the diagnosis itself but the loss of time. From late November to the 19th December, my memories are a blank canvas. It was as though my life had been paused, yet for everyone around me, it was a whirlwind of fear and uncertainty. I was there, but I was not present. My body fought battles I do not even remember, and my fiancé carried a weight I could not and still do not even comprehend. On 14th December 2022, I underwent my first emergency surgery to remove the abscess. The risks were high, the outcome uncertain. My fiancé later told me that during those weeks, she did not just fear for my life, she braced herself for what would come if I survived. Would I be the same person? Would I recover fully? These were the questions she could not allow herself to dwell on, even as she stayed by my side, hour after hour, day after day. Her presence was more than comforting; it was lifesaving. Without her, I know I would not be here to write this. I have to thank the amazing Drs and Nurses at Leeds General Infirmary for putting up with me for 7 weeks…. To them… Thank you The moments before, between, and after (not one) the two operations, are a blank canvas to me; A period of my life I have no memories on. My awareness only truly began to return on 19th December, when I woke up mentally. Even then, I did not fully grasp what had happened to me, why everything hurt, why I had stitches (14) running in a line above my left ear. It was only in the weeks and months that followed, and the conversations with my fiancé, that I began to piece together the enormity of it all. My brain; the core of who I am; had been invaded, and in many ways, it had to be rebooted. My affectionate nickname, Mark V2.0, came from this process of rebuilding myself; physically, mentally, and emotionally. Reflecting on this time, one thought stands out above all others: What if I had been alone? If I lived alone, there is no doubt in my mind that I would not have survived. This realisation