I came across Alistair Campbell’s Living Better: How I Learned to Survive Depression during a recent weekend away in lovely Alnmouth (which I highly recommend if you’ve never been), while browsing in the fantastic Barter Books in nearby Alnwick. In case you’re interested, it’s one of the biggest secondhand bookshops in the UK, set in an old Victorian railway station, and it’s every bit as magical as it sounds – cosy corners, a café, and even a model train running above the bookshelves. I was delighted to find a signed copy, and it seemed like fate that I should but Living Better.

I knew of Alastair Campbell mainly from the Blair years and a little from his more recent work, especially the podcast he co-hosts with Rory Stewart (The Rest is Politics). I’m a big fan of Rory; Alastair I’m still undecided about. I try not to write negatively on my blog, and I think he’d understand my lack of certainty – to be honest, I think he might agree with it.

He openly admits he isn’t the easiest person to live with. His partner Fiona says he’s difficult but never boring, and he, in return, describes her as organised, dependable, and a bit boring – which I can’t help but feel is a bit mean. That caustic side to him does crop up, including in his writing and podcast, and it’s not my favourite quality. But no one ever said that having mental health challenges automatically makes you easy-going or saintly!

What I admire – genuinely – is his openness. He writes with raw honesty about his experiences of depression and his relationship with alcohol. As a young journalist, his drinking was spiralling out of control and was one of the key factors that led to a psychotic episode. It was a major turning point and perhaps the beginning of his long and ongoing journey towards recovery. (Though he is candid that depression is something that he has to live with and won’t be cured).

For those who know me, you’ll understand why I tend to be compassionate and interested when it comes to mental health. Even so, this book gave me new insights. I found it especially fascinating how he scores his depression – something I hadn’t come across before – and how rapidly it can overwhelm him without warning or clear cause. He’s clearly done his research too, discussing various therapies and counselling approaches in a way that’s informed and grounded. He explores the benefits (and limits) of medication and reflects on the toll his illness has taken on those around him. There’s a longing for family harmony and stability in his writing, but I wasn’t always convinced he fully grasps what his family goes through – and yes, I do wish he showed a bit more gratitude in places.

Campbell also opens up about mental health across his wider family. He doesn’t hold back – from the tragedy of a childhood friend’s suicide to the resilience of his brother, who lives with schizophrenia and found real purpose through music. Donald Campbell became the official piper at the University of Glasgow, where he worked for nearly three decades.

One of the book’s strengths lies in its structure. The chapters are clearly signposted so you can dip in and focus on particular aspects of mental health, whether that’s therapy, diagnosis, family, addiction, or recovery. It makes it very readable – even for someone like me who finds non-fiction challenging!

Will I become a Campbell superfan? Probably not. But will I keep listening to The Rest is Politics and weighing up his opinions? Probably yes.

If you’re after a mental health memoir that’s approachable, layered, and not afraid to be messy, this is well worth a read. And if you get the chance to visit Barter Books and pick up something special for yourself, do it. It’s the kind of place that feels like a story waiting to happen.