1999 Green Day’s Time of Your Life was released a year or two before I finished high school, so naturally it was played a few million times by my year level as we approached our fork stuck in the road. Our adolescence coincided with the years of Seinfeld, the show about nothing and everything at the same…
In the July issue of The Westsider, in a piece entitled ‘A brief history of my former life as an occasionally-but-very drunk dickhead’, I promised the next issue would carry a follow-up, on the very easy and very hard aspects of quitting drinking. Keen observers will know that didn’t happen. You see, I am quite…
It’s been six years since I did a run of any note. Six years… and during that time I’ve reached the end of the rope and managed to pull myself back, to once again smile. But not everyone is that lucky… Imagine a growing number of men, trained in mental health first aid, who can…
The day I write this piece marks four years since I last had an alcoholic drink. Alcohol of any kind – I don’t even use rum when I make rum balls. Four years and no drinking. I needed to become a non-drinker, and I did. It was embarrassingly easy for me to stop, because I…
In announcing an expansion of its mental health program, the UK’s National Health Service (NHS) said the men “will be automatically offered a comprehensive mental health assessment and sign-posted to professional support if needed.” Australia should go even further.
It was Saturday, March 28, 1998, when I received the news that would cast a shadow over the rest of my life. I was 16 years old, and nothing would ever be ‘normal’ as I knew it, again. My dad had killed himself and now, 20 years on, I still have a father-shaped hole in…
Married with a young family and a great job, JC Clapham thought he had ticked all the boxes for a good life. Then he nearly lost it all, and himself. On paper, I had the perfect life. Married with three kids, a seemingly great job that paid very well, a mortgage in the suburbs, and…
One of the many shitful things about having a parent who died while I was young is that my kids never knew him. In my case, my dad would never be the ‘Pop’ his father was to me. He’d only ever be a blank, a gap, for them. My father’s suicide when I was 16…
Two years ago I had a complete breakdown. I was physically exhausted and mentally shot. A perfect storm of a marriage ending, total burnout and disillusionment with work meant nearly every aspect of my life needed to change. Over the decade beforehand, I had busted a nut to carved out a very promising career as…
As a creative writing student quite some years ago, one of the mantras instilled in me was to “kill your darlings”. Alarming to hear out of context, to be sure. What it means for writers is to focus on the overall purpose or value of your piece of writing, and to be fearless in cutting…