The Spin Doctor
Derek Draper, 40, former new Labour aide turned lobbyist
Draper quit the political scene in disgrace after the “Lobbygate”
cash-for-access scandal in 1998. After a breakdown, he studied clinical
psychology in California and now has his own psychotherapy practice in
London. He is married to the GMTV presenter Kate Garraway; they have a
two-year-old daughter, Darcey.
Easter has a particular resonance for me. It has a symbolic sense of renewal;
the notion that you can go through a bad time but then things get better and
you can start again. When we used to follow the liturgical calendar, people
were steeped in the idea of resurrection because they lived it every Easter,
but that has largely been lost in secular society. In fact, I don't think it
matters whether the idea is handed down from God, or people have created it
to answer deep-seated human needs. It speaks to that sense of people wanting
to believe that even when things are bad they can get better.
Now that I've got a toddler I'll be lucky to go to church more than once over
Easter, although we go regularly as a family. But when I was training to be
a psychotherapist in California I went to all the Easter services, from Palm
Sunday to the midnight vigil on Holy Saturday and the celebration of the
Resurrection on Easter Day. I found that progression very moving. Going to
all the services over the Easter weekend is an incredible way of going on an
emotional retreat, and you don't have to go to bloody Lindisfarne!
In principle, the idea of giving something up for Lent is neat, but this Ash
Wednesday I couldn't think of anything really bad that I do. I am overweight
and I should eat better, but I thought it was a bit trivialising to make
Lent an excuse to go on a diet.
Initially, going to church was part of trying to get better. The therapist I
saw was unusual in believing that unless you had some sort of spirituality
in your life you wouldn't have good emotional and mental health. I went
through the standard hackneyed trajectory that the old Derek Draper would
probably have sneered at, starting with reiki and yoga, and I experienced
certain moments of spirituality in yoga poses.
Finding solace in yoga and prayer
Then I started to read about Buddhism, and I was impressed by an interview
with the Dalai Lama, in which he said that he didn't have time for those who
seek solace in Eastern religion who haven't first tried the religions of
their own culture. So I went to my local church, where the vicar gave a
brilliant sermon about fear in life, which was very relevant to me but too
convoluted to explain. And I found that praying was similar to how I felt
when I did yoga.
One of the reasons I like Christianity is that it embraces paradox: Jesus died
and He didn't die; He is a man and God. One terrible human paradox is that
people often desperately want to change but until they reach rock bottom, as
I did, it's almost impossible. People often think this terrible thing -
Lobbygate - happened and then I got depressed. That's not true. I first got
depressed and started taking antidepressants, about two years before, when I
was at the height of my success. I refused to let Lobby-gate matter to me; I
was contemptuous of it and I didn't feel hurt by the scandal. In fact, I
felt great that I could decide what to do with my life; I hated the lobbying
job.
“But within about three months I got depressed again and this time the
antidepressants didn't work. It sank in that it wasn't just that I didn't
know what to do, but that I had no idea who I was, apart from this political
mover and shaker who no longer wanted to move or shake, or would have been
allowed to if he had.
So, suddenly, I crashed; I ceased to function. I was almost too depressed to
think of suicide. I just thought that my life was over. A friend suggested
that I try therapy, and although I had dismissed it as ridiculous for two
years, I agreed and was urgently referred to the Priory, where I spent three
weeks as an in-patient, followed by two months as a day patient. That's when
I started to get better.
After a while I set up an ad agency with a friend, but after a year I didn't
find it fulfilling, so I started volunteering at a homeless hostel in Soho
in my spare time. I also trained with the Samaritans. It got to the point
where I would rather be in the hostel wiping up sick and dealing with
15-year-old alcoholics than going into the office.
The shadow that hung over me was less that I didn't know what to do with my
life, but was I ever going to get over this depression? In the end, all my
thoughts about finding something worthwhile and completely different to do
came together. I was sitting in a restaurant with a friend when the idea of
training to be a therapist suddenly came to me. It was over a year before I
finally went ahead.
I didn't want to turn up at therapy school and have people go, ‘that's that
new Labour wanker'. So I decided to go abroad and California is a great
place to train. I'm glad I met Kate so soon after I got back; since then my
life has centred around her and our daughter Darcey.
Part and parcel of being politically obsessed was that I didn't nurture
friendships; I was a now-you-see-me-now-you-don't friend. If I got a better
offer, I'd be off. That self-centredness came out in relationships as well,
and I often wasn't faithful. Now, rather than trying to do a little bit of
everything, I want to be more committed to just a few focused interests and,
above all else, to friendships and to psychotherapy.
I care more about what people think and, if people criticise me I'm a bit more
hurt by it. I haven't felt depressed, or taken antidepressants, for years.
And if I can recover from depression, anyone can. But it did take time and a
huge amount of work.”
For details of Derek Draper's psychotherapy practice, go to www.diy-therapy.com
The Olympic Athlete
Christine Ohuruogu, 23, 400m champion
Eighteen months ago Ohuruogu was banned from competing for a year after
missing three drugs tests. She won her appeal from the Sports Dispute
Resolutions Panel in London, which conceded that there was “no suggestion
that she is guilty of taking drugs” and concluded that she was “a busy young
athlete being forgetful”. An automatic lifetime ban on competing in the
Olympics was lifted last November, within months of her winning gold at the
World Athletics Championships in Osaka.
The story is always going to be there; I can't run away from it. That's not
the way I want it, but, if I'm realistic, that's how it's going to be. The
day the ban came out I was very upset; I didn't expect it and it hit me
really hard. At first I was tempted to give up athletics, but I think that
was just anger. I soon realised I would only be punishing myself.
My coaches came to see me and they both said, ‘it's up to you: you can
sit around and cry, or you can turn this around'. They have always given me
a lot of moral and spiritual guidance, so I took that on board. From then on
it was about trying to stay positive; that was the whole lesson for me. I
didn't want to focus on the bad because that would have dragged me down.
A lot of the criticism was hurtful: you're trying to explain the story but
people keep throwing stuff back at you. If you keep trying to regain
people's trust and approval, you are always going to be searching. You've
got to learn to be happy with yourself. I'm hoping that with hard work all
the positive things will come out without me having to scream from the
rooftops.
It was hard for me to admit that I was at fault. But now I can see that maybe
I was disorganised, leaving too many things to chance. So I had to change my
mindset. But the only people I really felt I should apologise to were my
family. I felt sorry for having dragged them into all this.
I had people praying for me every day. I was brought up in a Christian
household and my religion is definitely what pulled me through. I believe
that things happen for a reason, including the ban, and it's up to you to
keep going and things will turn around if that's what you truly believe. The
support of my church and my family and friends was very uplifting. Everyone
had something positive to say, although sometimes you don't want to hear
that things are all right if they're clearly not all right.
You have to learn to keep moving on. What kept me going was knowing that
things were moving forward. I know it wasn't the best circumstance, but in a
strange way things were getting better for me in that year. I was training
great; I was probably the fittest I'd ever been. There's always something
you can pull out, no matter how bad things are.”
The Politician
Mark Oaten, 43, former Lib Dem home affairs spokesman
Oaten was a rising star until, two years ago, a Sunday newspaper revealed he
had visited a rent boy. He resigned from his post but remains a backbench MP
until the next election. He lives with his wife Belinda (right) and two
daughters in his Winchester constituency.
Not a day goes by when I don't think about what I did and the consequences it
has had. When the story broke my world completely collapsed, all the
foundations behind my day-to-day life were thrown up in the air and I faced
the real prospect that I might lose my family. It felt overwhelming. It
completely knocked my confidence and shattered my self-esteem; it shattered
everything. Yet with hindsight I realised that my whole world was falling in
two years earlier, when I'd seen the rent boy.
Something like this jolts you into looking at everything from a different
perspective and I was forced to re-evaluate everything about myself. Whether
they are close to you or not people are all looking at you in a totally
different way and you are very conscious of what people are thinking. In the
first few weeks, when strangers would stare and point, I wanted to go up to
them and try to explain and justify things. I was so scared that people
would shout at me or say rude things. But to this day I've had only two
people say anything nasty.
I never once felt like blaming the News of the World for breaking the story
because it was my mistake. I think you have to be very frank with yourself
and with other people and admit that you've done something wrong.
A lot of religious people contacted me and sent pamphlets and books; I
received several copies of the book that Jonathan Aitken wrote in prison
about his renewed faith. But I am not religious, and in the first few weeks
I had to rely on sleeping tablets and Prozac to help me get through. Going
to Relate also helped. Belinda and I are still having marriage guidance, and
I am still having counselling. It helps; amazingly so. At its most basic
level you allow yourself time every week just to think about things. And at
a much stronger level it goes into things that happened in childhood. While
it's still not easy, Belinda and I are very happy. Because of our
difficulties people become more open: we've had letters from people
confessing to having had similar experiences to me.
I don't feel my career on the front bench is a tremendous loss: I was clearly
finding the treadmill of frontline politics tough. But I do have to regain
trust, and that is a hard process. You sometimes feel frustrated because
you've still got the qualities you had before. Bit by bit you regain your
confidence and start to feel valued again. Then you get a knock back, but
generally you're always taking steps forward.
“In a strange way, you come out stronger”
Going back to the Commons within two weeks of the scandal was scary and I was
pretty shaky. It was just like starting all over again. But you suddenly
realise that although you assumed the world out there was going to totally
collapse, actually the world is supportive of you.
It sounds corny, but I'm beginning to believe that in a strange way you come
out stronger personally. I've changed so many aspects of my life. I see my
daughters much more, I take tennis lessons, I've signed up to the gym, I
watch Watford play. I've realised how important it is to make time for
friends, whereas before I was becoming a solo operator. In my MP surgeries I
spend more time trying to understand what my constituents are going through.
But I don't think I will ever forgive myself totally. I'm learning to
understand it through the counselling and to come to terms with it all. But
I think it will always be with me. Even when I'm 80, if someone Googles my
name the scandal will still be there, as it is with Profumo - the name means
nothing else.”
