No We Can Anthology

MY JOURNEY: Lewis Whitehead

I was young, scared and anxious back then. I felt like I'd never get out of the black abyss that was consuming my every thought. I went into school with a smile on my face because I didn't want anyone thinking I was 'weird', the thought of being pestered for something I couldn't control scared me. It left me with thoughts I couldn't get out of my head.

At the age of ten it confused me. The idea of mental health was just a mystery to me. I didn't know what I was going through. I have dealt with a stammer for my whole life and it was the main reason for my mental health not being as good as I wanted it to be. It made me feel like I wasn't allowed to have a voice of my own, because I couldn't voice myself as prominently as everyone else. I was lost. I felt like I had good things to say and I wanted to talk to people.

Friends weren't a thing I considered in school as I didn't want to make a fool of myself. In my head, talking to new people was like climbing Mount Everest and I didn't want the challenge as I didn't want to fail.

School was difficult for me. It was a place where I felt pressured to talk and it led to me feeling more anxiety. Talking to my teachers was a way I coped with it, as they were the only people in school that I knew I could trust to not rush me or judge me for something I didn't have control over.

One of the first experiences I had that made me realise my stammer was something people would make fun of was in school. We were put on reading tables and I was moved to the highest table, as I was a bookworm as a kid. I struggled with reading aloud however, as my stammer gave people the impression that I couldn't read. Luckily, my teacher knew I was a skilled reader which was nice. But one of the kids on my table was very impatient with my reading and decided to mimic my stammer, laugh and point it out to the rest of the kids on the table. It destroyed me. I cried and ran away. It hurt me and made me feel worthless.

I didn't know what to do. Someone I thought was my friend made fun of me. I felt petty for reacting in the way I did, but I look back now and I know my reaction was a perfectly normal response, as I was young and was struggling to come to terms with why people were so mean to me. I felt stupid for ever trying to read aloud and it made me think 'what is the point? People will never be patient and will never listen to what I say. My voice is pointless.'

I was told all my childhood that my dream job to be Prime Minister was never going to happen as it requires a lot of public speaking. As my self esteem was as low as it could possibly be at the time, I believed them. My dreams were shattered; all I ever wanted to do was make an impact on a global scale, and I didn't want my stammer to get in the way of the things I wanted to do.

The way I was feeling was impacting my school life. I didn't know it at first but I wasn't doing as much or being as engaged as I used to. It wasn't until my teacher talked to me that I realised that my emotions were impacting the thing I loved to do most; learn.

My mum was my lifeline and still is. I told her that I didn't know what to do and that I wanted help. I had no idea if help for what I was going through was available. But I left it with my mum and the rest of my family, and a few months later, in the autumn on 2014, I met with a speech therapist for the first time.

I had never even heard of speech therapy and at first it was difficult for me to get my head around, as I didn't believe it would help me. It was awkward. I didn't know what to say. It made me more anxious being there than not going at first.

Although I found it awkward, my speech therapist made me feel normal. She made me feel accepted which bought my self confidence to an all-time high. This allowed me to do small things that were huge steps. Things like putting my hand up in class and reading to a small group, and getting my own ticket on the bus. I was given the opportunity to either carry on with speech therapy or to stop it when I moved on to secondary school. I chose to stop

I did it to prove to myself that I could deal with it on my own, but also to prove to other people that despite all they said I could do this. I viewed secondary school as my time for redemption, a time for me to come out of my shell.

Year seven was a very tough year for me. Going into an unfamiliar environment brought back all the anxiety I had before. Although I didn't really do everything I wanted, like public speaking and reading aloud, I did make friends that accepted me and it built up my confidence, which was a massive step for me and it set me up for future opportunities within my school life.

The start of secondary school was also a clean slate for me and the chance to give people a new impression of who I was. They didn't know the old me, so they could just see my new confidence. That excited me as it meant that people didn't have pre-judgements.

A big milestone in my school life was joining the debate team in year nine. Being chosen made me feel like the teachers saw something in me. It made me see that if I put my mind to something, I could do anything, despite being told I couldn't by so many people.

I will be truthful - I tried to quit before one of the debates. I reflected on the decision I was making and told myself, why pull out of something I was chosen to do? Surely, it was for a reason, surely they saw something in me. After I told myself, I can do it, I decided to stay on. When the day came, I was filled with so many nerves and it showed. I messed up and nearly caused the team to lose the debate, but luckily, we still won.

Based on that experience, I went back and looked at what I was doing wrong and I realised that because I wrote a script, it made me fumble my words because it wasn't something I was crafting in my head.

When the second debate came along, I learnt from my mistakes and I didn't write a script. I went with prompt cards and I showed everyone what I could do and showed everyone if you have a set back in your life, you can move past it and that there is light at the end of the darkest tunnels.

The debate team gave me a sense of pride for once, and I was proud of what I had just done. It was something I know a younger version of myself wouldn't have been able to do. I knew I could do it, but people doubted me, and it was even sweeter when we won as it made me think back to the children and adults that said I'd never be able to do anything that required public speaking. I had doubters, but they were all wrong. I could do it and I still can do it.

Since year ten, I've been a peer mentor for my school. This role is one I hold very close to my heart as it means I get to counsel the younger years and it allows me to use my experiences to relate to theirs. It also shows me that I am able to talk to people. I have students who take my advice on board and listen to what I say as they value it.

Coming to the end of secondary school, I look back on it as the experience I never knew I needed. It's been a mix of ups and downs, but it's been worth it. Recently, I did a series of school assemblies, for all year groups and school houses about mental health and my journey.

It showed that everything I put into myself and the therapy I went through was worth it. I'll be wrong if I - or anyone else - ever tells me I can't do something.

I feel like my journey has been a positive one and I feel like it is one many people can look at and think, if he can do it, then so can I.

I now sit here and think about the people who said I could never be Prime Minister, and know I'm going to do it, and prove to them I am capable of anything. It isn't about saying no I can't, it's about saying no, I can, and together, we can.