As November approaches, I can’t help but acknowledge that it’s always a challenging month for me. On the one hand, it’s my birthday month, a reminder of how lucky I am to grow a year older. On the other hand, it’s Movember, a time to reflect on how fortunate some of us are and how unlucky others have been. It reminds me of all the people I met during my cancer journey who didn’t make it – those who fought harder than I did, yet, for reasons unknown, didn’t come out the other side. This has deeply impacted me. In the cancer world, we call this survivor’s guilt. We question why we lived while others didn’t, and we then try to live full and beautiful lives with the time we’ve been given. This is an example of a mental health struggle, and I’m okay acknowledging that I suffer from it, along with other mental health challenges. Admitting this is the first step toward overcoming it.
For context, my name is Brad Woodhouse. At 24, I was diagnosed with an incredibly rare and malignant brain tumour. It’s quite a life-altering experience for someone that young – to have everything turned upside down and to be forced into an existential crisis. But I’m still here, 12 years later. What cancer taught me is that in the end, all we have is time, and with that time we need to create as much positive change as possible. From the moment we arrive to the moment we leave, our lives are defined by what we do with the time we have.
In the 12 years since my diagnosis in late 2011, I’ve always presented myself as a positive, optimistic, glass-half-full, ‘live every day as if it’s your last’ kind of person. I’ve told countless people to appreciate life daily because you never know when things can change. I’ve said that I see the world through rose-tinted glasses because I’ve been to the brink of death more than once and made it back. I’ve spoken to others going through cancer, always encouraging them to stay positive. I’ve told them that a positive mindset, healthy eating, and regular exercise are the foundations needed to survive cancer.
But surviving cancer comes with a host of other ‘diseases’ that the world is less familiar with – anxiety, depression, post-traumatic stress disorder and survivor’s guilt – all of which are mental health challenges that I’ve faced alongside my battle with cancer.
What I’ve learned along the way is that it’s important to acknowledge when you’re not okay, to raise your hand and admit it to others or even to yourself. It’s OK to be vulnerable. Life’s daily struggles can feel overwhelming at times, and when a serious illness like cancer, or health-related anxiety, is added to the mix, it can become unbearable. It impacted my life so deeply that I knew I needed help. I take anxiety medication, and for good reason – without it, the chemical imbalance in my system would make it hard to cope. It’s difficult to describe what anxiety or depression feels like, but to me it’s a sense of hopelessness and loss of control. It’s like my body is operating at 1000%, but I feel like my battery is at 10%, with my mind constantly torn between the past and the future, leaving me unable to be present in the moment.
We don’t need to live in this constant state of imbalance – trust me, I’ve tried, and it doesn’t work. Don’t downplay the importance of your health. The time you have left is profoundly influenced by how you manage both your physical and mental well-being. I’ve done everything in my power to look after my physical health. I exercise daily, I eat well, I sleep around eight hours most nights, and I drink plenty of water. But despite all these efforts, my mental health is sometimes nowhere to be found. I’ve come to realize that I’ve only been managing 50% of the problem. The other 50% – my mental health – often leaves me feeling suffocated, wanting to curl up into a ball when the stresses of life feel overwhelming. Certain worries hang over me daily, things I don’t know how to fix, and these are the thoughts that wake me at 2 am more nights than I’d like to admit. When stress enters the picture, the line between ‘normal’ anxiety and health-related anxiety becomes blurry, and I find myself spiralling into an uncontrollable descent. Everything is affected – my personal life, my professional life and my overall well-being – while I try to maintain the appearance that everything is fine.
The message here is that, even though I’m reminded of my fragility every morning and night when I feel the scars on my head and body, and even though I’m one of the lucky ones, I still lapse into mental health struggles. I still feel lost. I still feel like I’m failing. And that’s okay. My message is to talk, be vulnerable, to understand what others are going through. I might appear as though everything is fine, but at times the pressures feel overwhelming. Yet, I remember that I have support. I have a beautiful, kind and understanding wife who listens to my fears and my weaknesses. I can speak, I have a voice, and I have a support system – and so do you.
Ignition Group prioritises the mental and physical well-being of all Ignitioners. Our dedicated wellness team is here to support this, and every Ignition Group employee has free access to a confidential counselling helpline, which they are encouraged to use.