My father suffered with depression for as long as I have been alive. He was a brilliant father and if you asked any of my friends about him they’d tell you that he was always cracking jokes and seemed incredibly happy. 

However, every few years, that man, without warning, would disappear and be replaced by someone we didn’t know. My mother attempted to protect us from knowing too much but ultimately this meant he suffered alone. When I look back now he almost seemed ashamed. I remember the constant apologies for his irrational behaviour. This cyclical nightmare became part of my life but it was okay because he always got better... until he didn’t. 

A few years ago, following his retirement from the police, my father slipped into another depression. Unfortunately, On this occasion the severity meant that he had virtually become schizophrenic. After being sectioned his behaviour became alien and any trace of my father vanished. Nobody knew what to do. 

This would be his final depression. He took his own life in horrendous circumstances. I will never forget answering the door to those police officers on that day - the feeling of devastation is one I wouldn’t wish on anyone. It broke me. 

In the years since his passing, I have watched as people I know and love have suffered similar circumstances. I have watched as their lives, like mine seemed to, crumbled around them. If my run can help to stop someone else having to live with the earth shattering reality of a suicide then it is my privilege to contribute. 

So, please donate as I run for my Dad.