#MHAW: It's good to talk...

It's Mental Health Awareness Week and Twitter is awash with a fantastic array of initiatives and awareness campaigns, as well as with some commendably open and honest personal accounts of individuals' battles with mental health. This is something that can affect any of us at any time and I am not afraid to admit that I have struggled - and am still struggling - with my own mental health in the wake of my cancer.

I was lucky, my cancer was caught early and my treatment has, by all accounts, hopefully cured me. However, this terrifyingly close encounter with my own mortality has left my emotions scrambled. I now - three months after surgery - have insomnia, often find myself feeling inexplicably low, unsure what should come next, where I should be focusing my energies and on the verge of tears at the most unexpected of times. I'm not sad though, I know how lucky I am and am incredibly thankful for the life-saving treatment and compassionate care I received. However, I still have the spectre of 'why?' bouncing around inside my skull.

'Why?' Is such a pointless and ultimately destructive question. It's sole purpose is to make us question things, more often than not about ourselves, our actions and the things we cannot control. Why did I develop prostate cancer, when the odds of doing so at my age are 10,000 to one? Why did I have to go through six tortuous months of tests before my diagnosis? Why did this happen to me when I have two young children to take care of? Why do I now have to live with the fear of my cancer returning?

The world's most destructive word?

But 'Why?' only ever leads to fear and that can be a difficult hole to dig yourself out of. The more you dwell on it, the deeper the hole gets and even when you try everything possible to take your mind off it, a glimpse of a cancer advert on the telly or the word 'cancer' in a newspaper is enough to send you back down the hole.

I know I need support to come to terms with what has happened to me over the last year and, with the support of my wife, I'm going to make sure I get it. I don't have the answers, but I'm hoping that those who do can help me to draw a line under this chapter of my life and get on with living the rest of it, as a husband, a dad and a cancer survivor.

My advice to you, if you're struggling to come to terms with your diagnosis, treatment or life after cancer, is to reach out too. There are some fantastic organisations out there that can provide counselling and psychological support, over the phone or in person.

As Bob Hoskins once said; it's good to talk.