PRINCE HARRY I ALWAYS thought Princes William and Harry had dealt with their mother’s traumatic death surprisingly well.

Apparently not.

Prince Harry now reveals that his grief, which he suppressed for over 20-years, took him to the verge of total breakdown.

The Prince’s willingness to talk in public about his mental health is a welcome revelation to fellow sufferers of this crippling but often ignored condition.

While celebrities queue to perform concerts for all kinds of ailments mental health barely gets a mention.

Forty years ago I suffered a nervous breakdown while working 80 hours a week building up a new business.

It was a strange and frightening experience.

Initially small enclosed spaces created panic attacks, so I avoided them until large spaces did exactly the same.

I didn’t like light spaces or dark spaces.

Finally, I ran out of spaces I did like and became totally depressed.

Desperate for help I tried all the available avenues, which were few and far between.

I remained ill for more than two-years until I discovered a book that gave me a real insight into my condition.

With increased understanding and the support of friends and family I learned to cure myself.

I have supported mental health charities ever since and there appears even less help for sufferers today than there was then.

Care in the Community proved no more than a political cost-cutting exercise leaving vulnerable people to fend for themselves.

Many end up in prison cells for lack of any alternative facility.

Can you imagine the outcry if those suffering physical illnesses were treated this way?

Now Prince Harry has broached the subject Bob Geldof and his pals may well will be lining up to perform. I can’t wait for that concert. Bring it on, Bob.

To those currently suffering, as I was all those years ago, never give up.

I found help in an unexpected place and so may you.

(NB The book was Self Help For Your Nerves by Dr Claire Weekes) BUILD IT AND THEY WILL COME The entire country is in desperate need of affordable homes, right?

Of course, that’s the reason Cheshire East Council has overridden local communities and allowed development on open fields and meadows, yes?

Good, stick with me here… this article is like antibiotics - you have to finish the course to feel better.

Okay, we’re all agreed…sacrifices must be made to help desperate families get a foot on the ladder.

So…I was driving along Adington Road yesterday and decided to take a look at the Bollin Park development.

Very nice it is to, although much larger than I imagined.

Nevertheless those ‘desperate families’ looking for a leg up are unlikely to complain.

They’re unlikely to complain and even more unlikely to ever live there.

With prices from £670,000 to £1million I doubt such families were any part of the planning process.

The other factor that puzzles me is where the infrastructure will be for all these new build homes.

I understand Wilmslow High is busting at the seams as are GP surgeries and Macclesfield General Hospital is creaking under the strain so where is the infrastructure? Do tell.

I’ve visited a few of these new estates and have yet to find any planned infrastructure and little more than a gesture towards affordable homes meanwhile developers are land-banking and forcing up prices.

It seems like the twin problems of affordable homes and over-burdened public services will not be addressed by this Great Land Grab.

Developers will prosper, Cheshire East Council will blame whoever it can and communities will lose their open spaces by slight-of-hand.

You may wish to remember this come the election.

ON YOUR BIKE As a life-long runner I was stunned when my consultant told me I should never run again following my knee replacement surgery.

He advised me to switch to cycling.

Surely, as a doctor, he realised my bladder wasn’t up to the copious amounts of coffee required for the exercise.

Anyone who has tried to fight their way through the wall of bikes stacked up outside Costa Coffee on Sunday morning would know that.

The other disadvantages I have as a proposed cyclist are an inclination to stop at red lights and a life-long allergy to Lycra.

Frankly, I couldn’t see any cycling club accepting me.

“Tell the old git at the back with the dodgy knee to keep up,” is not what I want ringing in my ears on a peaceful Sabbath.

I am, however, nothing if not resourceful so after acquiring a suitable machine I set out to improve my fitness.

For almost an hour I rode along in a trance like state when I had an unfortunate accident and fell from my machine.

I was bruised and covered in ice packs when Mrs B returned home.

“What have you done now?” she asked in a most accusatory tone.

“I got knocked off my bike.”

“How, how did you manage to do that?”

“This dog jumped up at me and I fell off.”

“God almighty you’re not fit to be left alone.”

“That’s a bit unfair.”

“Unfair, I’ll tell you what’s unfair having to explain to all my friends how you got knocked off a static bike in your own home by your own dog.”

I don’t think she’s very happy.

Email Vic Barlow at vicbarlow@icloud.com