SHOULD I FEEL BAD FOR PRINCE HARRY?
MY concern is perhaps unusual as it’s not for myself, nor a member of my family, nor a friend.
It’s for the person who is currently headline news and appears on the front page of every newspaper.
He appears to be ridiculed by everyone — the laughing stock of almost the entire world — and seems to dig himself a deeper hole every day.
Having been in a similar situation myself, but only with my family, am I the only one to show concern for his welfare and his mental ability to ride out the storm against him? The pressure must be enormous, overwhelming and possibly life-threatening.
I remember the late TV presenter Caroline Flack and what happened to her when the pressure of being ostracised became too great.
Heaven forbid that we should be wringing our hands in grief if the same fate should befall him. Do you agree?
ALISON
ALISON, I’m so glad you wrote this letter, which shows such compassion for the Duke of Sussex because, of course, you are far from being the only one to express such concerns.
Rightly worried about Harry’s mental health (a subject which never seems to lose its fascination for him), you are concerned that the current ‘pressure’ could prove to be too much.
Certainly, when I watched the first part of his TV interview with Tom Bradby I felt similar concerns, largely because I care about the monarchy, love the King and Queen, and also met Harry twice when he was about ten. When he married his beautiful bride, I rather adored him. But as Bradby’s very gentle interview continued, my compassion turned to despair. I segued from ‘Oh, poor little lad’ to ‘Oh, shut up, churlish prince’. No wonder he and his wife divide opinion.
I’m currently reading a brilliant book called The Body Keeps The Score by psychiatrist Bessel van der Kolk, subtitled ‘Mind, Brain And Body In The Transformation Of Trauma’.
The word ‘trauma’ is often used to describe the effect on Harry of hearing of his mother’s death, and having to walk behind her coffin on that terrible day.
But it’s also a word that’s often misused — turned into a cliche, which belies its seriousness.
Care is necessary, since the word can describe many different states of response to varied events, from war to a motorway pile-up.
Surely some perspective is needed. After all, the public attention you so kindly bewail has assiduously, greedily, been pursued by Harry and his wife, who live a life of unimaginable privilege and — we hope and trust, for their sakes — great happiness. We should ask, with van der Kolk: ‘How do horrific experiences cause people to become hopelessly stuck in the past?’
His book contains far too much clinical analysis to summarise here, but I think you’d agree with me that Harry does indeed now seem to be more trapped within his flawed memories and locked-in resentment than ever he was.
Yet I was heartened to read this in the book: ‘Our capacity to destroy one another is matched by our capacity to heal one another. Restoring relationships and community is central to restoring wellbeing.’ Isn’t there hope there to reassure you? Of course, it depends on Harry’s willingness to be ‘healed’ rather than create a career out of resentment and misery.
Prince Harry certainly never know what true wellbeing is unless he actively works to ‘restore relationships’. But you and I better not lose sleep over that, as it will require much time and intent.