Mental Health and Classic Motors

As you may or may not be aware this week, Monday once again played host to Mental Health Awareness Day. This is an important day for myriad reasons, the most crucial being that we as people need to talk about mental health, we need to embrace it, we need to be reminded that it’s okay to not be okay. It’s a silent killer, a detrimental force that lives in a great many of us. But because of stigma, because of the false perception of weakness, we don’t talk about it. And as such, that force within lives untethered. It ravages, it destroys and it consumes until there is nothing left. And we can’t have that. You don’t deserve to live like that. But now you’re wondering what the hell this has got to do with classic cars. Everything, that’s what.

I’ve suffered, and continue to suffer, with mental health issues. I’m not a loon, I don’t think ducks are clouds nor do I try and talk to spirits via the medium of a loaf of bread. I function, I get up in the morning, I sometimes put trousers on, I have a coffee, I get on with my day. But more often than not, there is a devil on my shoulder or a weight on my mind. A darkness, if you will. Anxiety is a big one, which is compounded tenfold by the fact I have a job the output of which is more public than most. But there’s depression, too. A hopeless, unending emotional ocean in which I cannot swim to shore. But conversely, I can’t drown in it. I’m stuck in those moments, bobbing unwillingly in a sea populated with my own worst fears, my own amplified misery and my own desire to no longer… be. I’m getting on to cars. Don’t worry.

I’m one of the lucky ones. And if you’re reading this, so are you. Why? Because you are lucky enough to have classic cars in your life. That sounds a bit grand, I know. And I’m not bowling in here saying classic cars are the cure for depression, but what I am saying is that man alive, they help. They’ve helped me. They have probably helped you. This can of course be extended to any hobby, naturally, but this is Car & Classic not Trout Fishing Weekly so I have to play to what I know. And what you know. Sorry if you’re looking for trout fishing tips.

I, like many of you, didn’t asked to be wired up like a low-rent bomb set to self destruct. I didn’t ask for the chemical balance in my brain to look like what happens when you give a baby spaghetti. I would have much rather been ‘normal’. Not that there is any clear definition of what normal is. But I digress. The point is, I’m a bit broken, and I have made my peace with that. I have seen doctors on repeat, I have medication sorted, and I’m in a good place. And I also have cars. I love cars, and they are one of the cornerstones of my current wellbeing. And I want them to be for you, too. Cars, unless you buy a single-seat racer, are by their very nature a social thing. They are built to move people. Classic cars are a greater amplification of that, as they bring us together. They become the bedrock of friendships, they make us feel better about being us. And is that not some good medicine?

Classic cars get us out, they get us to events, they get us to enjoy the company of other like-minded enthusiasts. And that stuff is good for the soul. You don’t need to turn up to a classic car meet and start talking to people about depression or your mental struggles though. Instead, treat these moments as an opportunity to soak up the endorphins, to have a laugh, and to just live a bit. This is something so very, very important to good mental health.

Then of course there is the fact a classic car can give you a bit of drive and focus, something to do, an objective. One of the biggest blockers I have found with my mental wellbeing is the constant unerring beat of ‘why?’. A classic car can give you that. Restore it, tinker with it, take it for a ‘no destination’ drive, clean it, whatever. It will help, it will give you purpose and it will leave you with something you want to use and to show off and then bosh! we’re back soaking up the endorphins at a car meet again.

In my case, classics are a source of progress, too. I know my 1999 Rover 800 Vitesse doesn’t tickle everyone’s pickle, but I don’t need it to. I went through a horrible time some years back, the darkest I have ever had to endure in fact. But, I came out the other side, got work and soon, had enough to buy that £475 snotter of a car. Times moved on, my work improved, I ended up here with the best job I’ve ever had, and through it all the 800 was my faithful and well rewarded companion. I could afford to buy parts, to fix it, to have it painted. It’s better now than it’s ever been. I look at it, and I see me. I see a physical representation of my personal progress and increased mental wellbeing. That’s powerful. Sometimes I’ll just stare at it out of the window and smile.

Look, I’m not naïve, I know classic cars aren’t going to cure everything, they’re not a one-size-fits-all solution, I get that. But we have them, we have this world, we have this community, within it we have incredible events and organisations like the ‘I Love You, Man’ talks at Caffeine and Machine, we have Revs Limiter, we have BEN, we have Takona and more. All meshing classics with mental health and its betterment. We are so, so lucky to have this. Imagine your life not without classic cars, but without any hobby, or release, or community. It’s a terrible thought. So get out there, even if ‘out there’ is just your garage with a brew and spanner in hand. Give yourself some enjoyment, remind yourself of your passions, think upon your motoring memories, the places and the people you have met, and smile. I hope you do. You deserve to. Look after yourself, yeah?

If you are suffering from mental health issues, please don’t suffer in silence. Reach out to Mind, The Samaritans or contact your local GP.