In early 2011 my rheumatoid was really playing up and walking was getting harder every day due to my left leg. One day I was asked by a elderly lady if I wanted her wheelchair and it finally hit that I needed one as crying trying to walk isn’t normal.
I had booked to take my brother to old Trafford to see Paul scholes testimonial I’d got us hospitality seats and I was so very excited to be taking my younger brother to old Trafford. The reality hit that I couldn’t do it. I rang the club and explained the situation to them. At this point they told me about MUDSA and thankfully were able to get me a place on the platform, I was so relieved that I could go with my brother still.
Previous to this news I had been trying to go football and basically crawling up to my seat in east stand or being dragged by friends down to lower east stand. I was feeling really depressed I could feel football slipping away from me. More than that though I was feeling down that I was slipping away and became upset daily. The thought my life was being turned upside down by this disease I had, my heart was breaking.
Hearing about MUDSA (Manchester United supporters association) gave me a boost a hope that I could keep going to football. I was excited to discover that I could apply for the charity shield at Wembley it was united v city, also the debut of David De Gea I was beyond excited when tickets arrived, I cried! Me and my brother went to the match and we won! Although had a city fan shout at us, what can you do!
The realisation from the doctors that being in a wheelchair wasn’t a temporarily thing and in fact permit hit really hard. I became really depressed and isolated myself. I just felt so alone in the world. I felt like my world had fallen to pieces, three years previous I’d lost my precious mum and suffered a devastating eating disorder it made me very ill. Now my legs didn’t work, why me, how could this be happening to me, life isn’t fair, some of the things that went through my head, they still do if I’m honest with you.
I wouldn’t go out the house because I was ashamed, scared and down right angry with the world, why was I getting kicked in the teeth over and over again. Of course I lost all my friends and it made me feel worse. I would go to medical appointments and go home or go food shopping with family because I had to know I was getting stuff I needed and would eat as my eating issues were still laying there easily triggered by the wrong cheese being brought.
My brother suggested we went to old Trafford I was now a one Man Utd member and mudsa member. So I rang up the night before the match and I was lucky I had a ticket! I was buzzing I hadn’t felt that rush for a while. So off I went the next day. When we arrived. My head told me I had no right to go football, I didn’t deserve it, but I had my little brother with me, I was going in, F you depression I thought.
I remember going to what’s now AE1 and giving my name and the stewards welcoming me in and off we went, I was shown the toilets and the ability suit. We did go in but it scared me, why would people want to talk to me, my life was falling apart. I however decided to go to to my seat well space! We was sat right of the goal, not one person bar my brother spoke to me. But boy did that match change my life. For 90 mins I was part of the crowd I remembered the buzz of a match. It gave me so much more than I can put into words.
As the season went on I reconnected with my football friends both at united & blues, we’d talk football nothing else, just football, I wasn’t ready to open my heart or head to anyone. When I got to a match, I’d smile, I’d feel a natural buzz, I’d feel part of that all too familiar community, the most wonderful community I’d ever know.
However I became increasingly frustrated that I wasn’t getting many games at all. I was getting upset because it was always sorry no tickets left, It felt like a kick in the teeth. My depression loved it, it felt like a rejection from the world every time, I cried. I missed the whole of one season didn’t get one ticket, I cried a few tears! Of course I kept watching on tv but it wasn’t the same.
Some of the lads said why don’t you apply for away games vicky, we don’t see many wheelchair users at aways. I sat and thought about it, I found out how to apply. I have to be honest I was frozen in fear at the thought of traveling the country with the lads! I love traveling but it was different now, I had a permanent seat and 4 wheels under me. How could I Victoria do that, I thought? But the lads kept pushing. I kept fighting with myself internally, I wanted to go but my depression told me no it was a stupid idea.
I eventually applied and went to my first away match with Andy. Going away was a different experience it is more hard core fans, but they were friendly and encouraging and would help out. It wasn’t an easy one it was a lower league game and well facilities were not the best! But I managed to do it. Despite my anxiety and depression I managed to get through it and I was again hooked on aways. I thought why was I so scared! Stupid depression, it’s not like I hadn’t done it previously to becoming ill but it was different, you face more challenges. I ended up going to more away games than home games!
One journey home me and Andy were chatting away about next season. We was in the qualifying rounds of the champions league and Andy said will you go to euro aways? At this point I smiled and was enthusiastic as I didn’t want to look stupid. But inside the very through of taking my wheelchair and me to a football game in Europe filled me with dread, I felt sick really sick. I didn’t sleep that night worrying about it, depression & anxiety kicking in telling me I was stupid, I couldn’t do it, who did I think I was? But I thought well it’ll be the same lads from away games and I’m sure they will be around, no red left behind, id heard once, but of course my depression told me that I wasn’t one of them I didn’t count, a problem and I’d be left alone.
Funny enough, we got Brugge in the qualifying game, it was sandwiched between villa and Swansea away. I decided I’d apply for the match and see what happened, surly I wouldn’t get a ticket, I secretly hoped! But I did get a ticket and before I knew it I was on a train to London to meet Andy! We was driving to Belgium and although we encounter a few issues it was enjoyed especially as we won! You know what I’m going to say now right? I was hooked on euro games now too!
That night in Belgium I talked to people other than Andy and it felt good, I made friends, new people,mudsa members! I had conquered a lot that day, talking to people outside my group it felt good, I of course had that little depression voice giving me sh*t about how I didn’t deserve new friends, how I didn’t deserve to be happy to socialise. When the lads were whistling me and saying vicky from the able section my heart swelled with happiness, I belong somewhere once again, I had made a step forward.
A few years past my happy place was at football with my new friends and in my happy place, where for 90 mins I was just a normal gal loving football and catching up with the friends I had both old and new. I travelled thousands of miles following the reds me & my wheelchair and mainly Andy. I reconnected with Martin my childhood neighbour and friend, making memories of trophies!
The problem was during the off-season and international break my mood would plummet I’d become really depressed and lonely, isolated once more. Without football I had no routine no focus. I was living for football, for man Utd. My football friends meant a lot to me, they likely never realised.
Then it all started to fall apart.
My nan died and my depression took hold it was awful and the anxiety set in. The thing was people/persons had turned on me for no good reason and made my life hell. Instead of football being my happy and safe place, it had become an absolute nightmare. The bully really hurt me emotionally and stopped me going to football. I was devastated, my anxiety and depression where sky high. My doctors and Andy encouraged me to go back. The club encouraged me to. So eventually I relented and returned. That first game back, I cried in the car and wanted to turn around but Andy said no! By the time we reached old Trafford, I had server stomach ache and felt so sick, I couldn’t go In so andy pushed me around the outside of old Trafford twice and then we had to go. I was almost sick, I felt dizzy and oh the stomach pain. I went straight to my seat, spoke to no one then Andy M came and chatted to me and hugged me and told me to enjoy the game and it would be ok. I kept going after that but it was never the same the rest of that season going into the next.
I’m thankful that I was forced into persevering, I say forced it was done out of friendship. I made some fantastic memories in those tough years. I was lucky to have the two Andys by my side at matches and I felt safe.
Unfortunately my mental health tormented me and my eating disorder hit me hard again. I couldn’t eat solid food and I couldn’t drink at football in case the bullies did something, I was really scared of them. What hurt the most is the friends I’d made I lost one turned into the bully.
Sorry I didn’t go into much detail about the above period, it’s just a very painful time that affected me badly and I just am unable to fully open up yet plus it’s not really resolved. But I do thank those close to my for helping me as well the club & MUDSA.
Fast forward to last season, I was able to become a season ticket holder, I cried! Finally I’d be able to go matches at old Trafford regularly and it filled my heart with happiness. I was lucky that Jamie agreed to come with me and we’ve made many memories and laughed at some terrible journeys! Both Andys are still in my life and I have once again made some new friends.
The depression & anxiety are helped by football but can be switched on still by the sight of the bully but overall i was in a better place. The summer came and the depression hit hard and painfully, I cried a lot this summer. I missed the buzz I miss the structure of football, I missed the team, old Trafford and I missed my mates.
We are on countdown now 3 weeks til a Friday night game under the lights at old Trafford, it can not come soon enough, my diary is full of matches, applications and I feel a bubble of excitement about getting back to OT, the long m6 journeys! But mostly I miss that happy feeling even when we loose I’m upbeat because for those 90 minutes I could forget the wheelchair, the pain, the depression, the anxiety I just become vicky the football fan. The demon of depression is kept in its box, I can sleep soundly in the car, the best sleep I get!
I’d like to say thanks to Jamie who enables me to go football at old Trafford it means the world. Thanks to both Andy’s for sticking with me through the tough years too.
Football, it’s a funny old game! But football it saved my life I really do mean that, it saved me more than once in my life but it has also destroyed me in recent years but it did help again. Without this beautiful game I dare say I’d be in a lot worse place and maybe even scared to leave my home, thank you the beautiful game.
Vicky xx
