I can now live with the voices in my head
Lee reveals how he has learnt to cope with terrifying intrusive thoughts.
In 2018, my mental health began to deteriorate after I ran my first half-marathon around Stafford. I went out for Sunday lunch with my beautiful wife and parents, and as I was discussing the race I thought I heard some wicked man behind me scream, “What’s it got to do with that silly old cow anyway!” The voice was inciting me to kill my wonderful mother.
As a man of love and peace I was shocked. So when I turned around and nobody was there I was bewildered and extremely anxious. I told my family, who tried to reassure me by saying “Don't worry; it's just exhaustion from the race, and your body and mind haven’t had a chance to recuperate yet.”
“I was in my wife's car, happy and relaxed, when I heard a nasty comment in my head frightening me to death.”
A week or so later, I was in my wife's car, happy and relaxed, when I heard a nasty comment in my head frightening me to death, saying “Flip this tin can over three times on its roof!” Again the voice encouraged me to kill my beloved family. I was flabbergasted. I sat on my hands because I was sure what I thought was controlling my mind, was doing the same to my body. The thought soon passed, but made me feel desperately anxious all evening.
As days and weeks went on it got worse. Every minute of the day I was hearing critical noises inside my head, and they were wearing me down. I felt depressed to the point I could have easily hurt myself just to make them stop.
One Sunday I was making tea and I accidentally dropped the chicken getting it out of the oven because I was consumed by the ugly nonsense in my head. I called the local mental health team, which sent out two crisis people to assess me. They decided to take me to the nearest mental health hospital so they could monitor my condition.
“I was shown good ways to deal with the voices when they became intolerable, including different grounding techniques.”
After 3 weeks in a ward, I was not only hearing things that were not there but now I was seeing things too. But by the time I left, I had a new mixture of meds to take and a new community psychiatric nurse to see once a week. I eventually saw a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) and put me on an antipsychotic drug.
I was shown good ways to deal with the voices when they became intolerable. I was taught different grounding techniques such as creating an A to Z of any subject I choose – the harder, the better, and I would either say them out loud or in my head. There were also breathing exercises and I tried holding an object like a pen and feeling its surface to distract me from the noises.
The meds and these activities kept me steady, but OCD goes up and down like a rollercoaster. For me, the more people I am around, the worse it gets. If my emotions are high, then it's terrible, and I find myself for example reciting the A to Z of rock bands.
I'd been doing well, I'd even completed the London Marathon and with the help of my family, friends, and work I raised nearly £2,000 for a charity. But in 2024, my OCD, took a nose dive again. I tried to hurt myself because I was hearing horrendous sexual violence in my head, so I phoned the wonderful charity Mind who calmed me down and advised me to talk to my family and doctors about getting help again. So I spent another 3 weeks in the local mental health hospital, where I was diagnosed with severe OCD and delusions. They increased my meds and sent me home.
For 16 weeks, from November 24 until April 25, I have seen an incredible psychologist. We tried CBT and I was taught that the noises in my head were just intrusive thoughts. This unbelievable psychologist taught me that my personality is not the bad thoughts in my head.
“I have turned the corner . I am not cured, but I think I can learn to live with my OCD, anxiety and depression for the rest of my life.”
We then went on to exposure therapy, where I did several exercises to confront the anxiety and OCD. I would tell her about a bad thought. Then I would write it down and leave it in my pocket for a week. The next week I looked in the mirror and said an awful thought, making sure I didn't get caught up in the content and recognising they were just words in my head. By the end of the sessions, I said out loud my worst thoughts to the psychologist and I didn't get anxious or depressed about what I said, nor did I feel embarrassed.
It's now May 2025 and after 7 years I feel I have turned the corner. I am not cured, but I think I can learn to live with my OCD, anxiety and depression for the rest of my life without them putting me into crisis. I am not my mental health, and I can be happy again. I have faith in myself, the NHS, all the different mental health charities, and of course, my family and friends. I know we can feel alone and isolated, with a black fog around us, but I have faith that there’s always hope and help out there.
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