I was 21 when I was clinically diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I was 22 when I first tried to take my own life. I was 23 when I accepted that I needed help.
15 years ago, men’s mental health wasn’t a subject that was openly discussed and it almost cost me my life. The opportunity to share my journey in the hope that it can inspire just one person to accept the help they need is worth all the backlash I have faced over the years from members of my family, friends and the community.
Let me introduce myself.
I am the founder of the Complete Health Rewire, a high performance coaching company that transforms the health, body and mind of every member we partner with. The sole goal of the CHR is to ensure we develop leaders to reach their personal potential and leave a legacy of health within their families and community.
I thrive in the presence of my incredible wife Jussi, our two boys and my family unit. If I were to speak to the 21 year old me and tell them where we are now, how aligned we are to our values and vision for life, the younger me would be proud.
Despite everything that has been accomplished and the powerful vision I have for the future, I am still very much a work in progress and a huge part of my ability to continue on a journey of personal growth is to ensure I continue to look after mental wellbeing and with good reason if you knew my background.
Like many young South Asian men, I looked up to the elder generations for inspiration of what it was to be a role model. Strong characters, men that didn’t back down from a challenge and were seemingly unmoved in the face of immense trials and tribulations.
Our forefathers stared down racial abuse, the challenges of moving to a new country at a young age and creating a life from nothing but hard work and determination. There wasn’t the time for “weakness” or “vulnerability”, there was work to be done and survival was the priority.
I saw how my peers and elders treated their struggles. Food, alcohol and avoidance was the easiest way to repress the emotions, keep a poker face and continue on with their responsibility to provide and protect the family. It wasn’t a character flaw, it was learned behaviour and it worked for them, but it didn’t work for me.
After the loss of the figurehead of our family, my Babaji, I didn’t know how to respond. I was already in unfamiliar territory with moving out of the disciplined environment we had at home to go to University. I was drinking to fit in, it gave me plenty of “confidence” and I had already started to blur the lines between the real me, my values and principles and the mask I was wearing.
Drinking to excess was so normalised, it wasn’t seen as a cause for concern to anyone around me. I certainly couldn’t tell the difference between having fun and running away from how I was really feeling. I didn’t have the emotional intelligence to sit down with the people I loved and share that there was a deep pain within me that felt like it was growing, I was already in too “deep” with the reputation I had developed as a party starter and I had become so disconnected at this point that it was easier to keep running in the wrong direction despite the pain it was causing to me and those around me, than it was to put the breaks on and try to understand the diagnosis of depression.
Until one day, it came to head. I couldn’t bare the pain anymore, every day I seemed to be dragging others down with me, there was an anger and frustration within me that seeped into relationships, friendships and family life and eventually I made the decision that this would be the end.
I had a car, I knew the bridge I would be driving into and I had the opportunity to slip out of the house undetected. It was time to put myself out of misery and stop causing pain in everyone else’s life too.
As I type these words, I look down on my hands and see the scars caused by the glass shattering around me upon impact, penetrating my skin and leaving me sitting in the front seat of my battered Vauxhall Corsa, bloodied but unhurt.
My Dad was the first person I saw after trying to end it all. He had been to the scrap yard to pick up my belongings from the vehicle and for the first time in my life I saw my Dad’s tough exterior break and tears ran down his face.
Suddenly it hit home, this is what they meant by depression and anxiety. This is what happens when you ignore the warning signs. This is where you end up when you don’t take the advice, support and counsel of specialists and think its time to toughen up, man up and get on with it.
The next chapter…
I was at a fork in the road. I was either going to let this define me or I was going to take control once and for all. After speaking to multiple therapists I finally found someone I connected with who was able to explain the science behind psychology and bring logic to what felt like a tangled mess of chaotic thoughts, feelings and beliefs,
For the first time in 5 years I felt clear, capable and focused on the man I knew I could become instead of trapped by the fear of vulnerability, failure and judgement. It felt like the darkness had lifted and I could see clearly for the first time, I could see a future where I was a role model and an inspiration instead of a burden full of regret.
I learned new coping strategies, applying myself to physical and psychological excellence. Becoming recognised as one of the first elite level Asian Bodybuilders in the UK with multiple awards and a stream of people were reaching out to me for support and guidance into stepping into their personal power.
Working with specialists I became more aware of the power of effective communication, having a clear vision for the future and understanding how to live a life in alignment with personal values. I began to teach others the concepts and developed my own team of psychologists, nutritionists, coaches and health professionals to deliver a 360 degree wrap around service to help others recognise the power of their mind, body and health.
The biggest lesson of all to me was simple, I walk the walk instead of just talking the talk. Living with that level of authenticity, the ability to be completely transparent and share with the type of vulnerability that would previously have made me shudder, helped me help others to talk from the heart instead of keeping their masks pulled firmly over their faces.
Suddenly, everywhere I looked my members were transforming, reconnecting to the warrior that existed within them and inspiring their friends and family to do the same. That is when I realised that we had come full circle and the legacy I had previously only dreamed of, was now playing out before my eyes.
Yet, my work is so far from being completed. Suicide is the biggest cause of death for men under 45 in the UK and through education, support, accountability and the right community around those that are suffering from alcohol dependancy, challenges with mental wellbeing and chronic health conditions, it doesn’t have to be. I am more committed than ever to changing the narrative and breaking the vicious generational cycles for South Asian men around the world, so we can stand in this world as confident, accomplished and fulfilled role models.
Contact Juggy Sidhu at Complete Health Rewire
