Paul is a successful technology consultant and professional sailor, with a lifelong passion for the sea, living on his wooden gaff-rigged sailing yacht, Maid of Wyven. As an outspoken advocate for mental health issues, Paul hopes to use his writing, speaking engagements and workshops to break the veil of silence surrounding survivors of abuse and those otherwise battling the daily challenges and stigma associated with mental health. Together with his daughter Natasha, his hope is their example can champion the cause of getting more available and consistent mental healthcare, and break the preconceptions that these issues should hold anyone back from leading productive and successful lives.
Natasha is an aspiring writer and apprentice chef, having published several short stories in Denmark, where she was raised, prior to co-authoring The Struggle Continues. She was diagnosed with autism at a young age, and has since fought against the expectations and limitations set by society of what she can achieve.
“The writing of any book is a story in of itself. And if you tell that story honestly, completely, and without fear or favour, then you will not be the hero of that book. In any story of a life, told from the heart as truthfully and openly as you know how, you will sometimes be the villain, sometimes the victim, sometimes you're just the bystander, and occasionally you might be a little heroic, but real lives, real stories are never that neat, tidy or simple.”
Telling the story
I want to tell the story of why I wrote this book. For as long as I can remember people have told me that I should write a book. Like most people who came from an extreme place, I lived an extreme life. Even though there was so much I never told anyone, and in fact didn't admit the “A-word” (abused) about myself until I was in my late-30s, there so often that parts of my life seems so out-there, so extreme, so bizarre, that like most survivors I often doubted myself, and it was more than once I heard, “that can't be real”.
The headstone of Nuno De Azevedo, Highgate Cemetery, London.
But then in 2007 I was walking around the famous Highgate Cemetery in London and was doing the expected thing of finding Karl Marx's grave, when nearby I saw this. The headstone of Nuno De Azevedo. Before that day I'd never heard of him, and being honest I don't know much more about him now, but what was written on that headstone spoke to me somehow. At the time I didn't do anything more than take a photo with my phone, and I remember posting it as my background image on my Facebook account and writing, “Meme's in stone. Old school”. Very funny (not really), a bit trite and certainly disrespectful to the memory of the man. But there it sat on my phone and every so often I'd come back to it. I remember clipping the rest away so it was just the bottom 4 lines and making it my screensaver. Clearly my mind was stuck on something about these words, even if only unconsciously, but I didn't do anything more about it and so, there is sat.
Fast forward to 2013 and my psyche had shattered, I received the diagnosis of Complex PTSD and I embarked on a 3.5 year journey of putting myself back to together. It was in 2016 when my therapist suggested to me that I should write a book, and I told him about how everyone has always told me that only this time he asked, “so why don't you?”. The answer came to me quickly, that I didn't know how I would ever tell my story in such a way that it could actually do some good, rather than just being “trauma porn”, and me saying “hey, look at me, isn't my life terrible”. But then we began to talk about the personal stories that had helped me, which was so evident from my love of quoting people, books, poets, stories, songs, and so on.
Then in 2017 I came to look at the photo of this headstone again, and it came to me. I should write a book because I can, and if I can the questions is really, how can I not? If it would be possible for me to help even just 1 person who had gone through anything like what I had survived, then didn't I have a duty to myself, and to all those who didn't survive, to do what I could. So what's what I set myself to do, do what I could, and let those who can, do more…
The dedication
This is for all those who never stood a chance, those without a voice who are still hidden behind the veil of silence, and all those held mute by the stigma of abuse, trauma, and mental illness that pervades our society.
