FALL RIVER: Jim Malone cleans his basement—a thankless chore that many home owners must set aside countless hours in the afternoon or weekend for.
Sorting through objects meant for the junk pile, the keep pile, and the ‘sort some more’ pile, he stumbles upon camera equipment, where it’s been sitting, unused, since he underwent a major depressive episode in the winter of 2008, and was forced to take leave from his job. He’s hit with a sense of guilt, sadness, and mental paralysis. He says it takes him everything he’s got just to move it a few feet.
But, in the midst suffering from his own illness, he’s still doing all he can to help others. Malone was recently nominated for an Inspiring Lives Award, an initiative that’s partnered with the Mental Health Foundation of Nova Scotia. The awards pay recognition to those facing the challenges of mental illness but have taken it upon themselves to make a difference in the lives of others.
“It’s not that you don’t care,” he said. “You just don’t have the capacity for it. You’re totally consumed with trying to make yourself better.”
Having experienced what Malone coins, his darkest days, he knew there had to be others out there like himself, in need of recovery. He was attending a support group in Dartmouth for people suffering from depression, when he recognized a need for a similar support system out of town. He was nominated by his doctor, William McCormick and outpatient coordinator Edie Lloyd. They saw his efforts to facilitate the Bedford-Sackville support group since September of 2009, even while undergoing his own major depressive illness.
Malone, sits at a boardroom table at a Fall River community centre, a well groomed man of average build and semi-athletic stature. His caring, open demeanor, folded hands, head tilted to the side thoughtfully, and empathetic creases in his eyes prepare to tell a story he is all too familiar with, about a time where everything came to a stop.
Malone talks about what it’s like to have three children, aged 12, 16, and 17, and of all the community groups he was avidly involved in. He was a member of the Knights of Columbus, serving as Grand Knight in the 90s, a Kinsman at the Lions Club, and an active member of his church community’s parish council. He helped plan the local Keloose festival, and served as LWF volunteer Fire Chief. He was a driven sales worker, supplying wholesale building materials to community businesses. He travelled extensively around the Maritimes. He was living life, but not to the fullest.
“I was going 90 miles an hour,” said Malone, “and now, some days I can’t even get out of bed. Some days, it’s like you’re wearing 10 X-ray jackets all day—it’s always weighing on you.”
James was diagnosed with depression in 1989, but said he seemed to manage his illness somewhat successfully with the help of medication. It was in 2006, he said that things started to go downhill.
“I kept it quiet,” he said. “You can talk about high blood pressure, but, when push comes to shove, mental illness is still taboo.”
Coworkers were starting to notice a difference in his behaviour, but didn’t approach him directly on it. He says it only hit him when he received a phone call from a representative from HR department. The rep told Malone that people at his workplace were concerned—he hadn’t been his happy, chipper self as of late.
“She asked me, point blank, if everything was okay,” he said. “I just broke down and balled. I couldn’t answer."
Having been a valued member of the company, they agreed that he needed to take some time off. It was during the first few months of his leave that he experienced some of his darkest times. Alone in the house for the first time, Jim would travel, unenergetically down to the basement, where he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but sit in the dark. Just the thought of completing even the smallest of tasks overwhelmed him.
“I associated all of these with some form of impending doom,” he said. “I know it’s extremely hard for people going through it to understand, but I was losing control. I felt helpless.”
He said the worst of it lasted six months. He slowly and painstakingly entered the road to recovery. His efforts to understand the illness as he and many others experienced it kept coming back with more questions. He saw an overburdened mental health system; statistics show one in three people will suffer from some form of mental illness in their lives. He saw people, like himself, who used to be actively involved in the community, slowly withdraw. Many continue to suffer in silence, afraid of what family and friends might think. So he started his own group.
“Only three per cent of the budget is being devoted to mental health in this province,” he said, “and not everyone can afford to see a professional on a more regular basis.”
Malone is living off of 65 per cent of his regular income, covered by CPP disability and insurance from his work, minus the commission he was paid from sales. Although it’s difficult, he says it give him a new perspective on life.
“We’re so driven by material things,” he said. “We’re all striving to fulfill accomplishment after accomplishment, and we don’t take time to give ourselves that balance.”
At the Fall River community centre, after having accounted much of his ordeal, he sits quietly, reflecting on his views of the future. He is humbled at having been recognized for helping those with similar difficulties. He expresses his regret that he’s not nearly as active as before. Right now, he’s taking things one day at a time. He muses that when he’s ready to return to work, he may concentrate on the mental health field.
“I feel like I ought to help others,” he said. “People ought to give back, to give as much as we can, because we have so much.”
For now, Malone will continue his volunteer work, facilitating his support group at the Cobequid Centre, every Wednesday from 7-9 p.m. He’s also a part of the healthy minds collective, a group that advocates for individuals with mental illness and reducing the stigma. The group holds a series of talks throughout HRM libraries.
“I love life; I love people,” He said. “I’ve been held back for so long now—I want to live life again.”
acano@enfieldweeklypress.com