Leading by example, chief executive of the region's mental health trust Michael Scott talks of his own family's struggles with mental health.

I have worked throughout the health and care system covering a wide range of roles; as a social worker, chief executive of a hospital, part of the Department of Health and running community services here in Norfolk.

However, there are personal as well as professional reasons why I've chosen to work in mental health and the lived experiences that I bring to my role which I keep firmly in mind to inform the decisions I make as chief executive of NSFT.

It's still not easy for people to talk about mental health and its impact upon them or their loved ones.

Despite the change in some attitudes, we still find stigma surrounds mental ill health in a way we no longer see in relation to cancer.

These misplaced attitudes of shame or embarrassment are, I believe, why mental health has historically been short of resources and why services had become the largely hidden part of the NHS.

It's about time that changed and that's why I welcome this special edition of the EDP and why I'm writing this piece.

I'm always open with the staff I work with about why I do this job.

But I've not tended to share my personal experiences in the public arena.

But if I want to encourage others talk more openly then I need to do the same.

Depression has always been a part of my family life; it would appear that the Scott's have a genetic connection that has meant my father, sister, brother and uncle all had depression to varying degrees.

It is my fortune that this gene missed me, as my mother will often say.

The depression they underwent wasn't feeling down or blue.

For them it often meant the black dog that wouldn't let them get out of bed in the morning, and for them to feel that life was not worth living.

For my father that meant hospital admissions and ECT.

For my sister it meant a life of self-medication with drugs and alcohol, leading to her early death last year.

As my father aged, his depression was replaced by dementia.

Whilst dementia is a debilitating condition for so many people, paradoxically for my father it often took him to a place of acceptance where there was little worry from the past and no concerns for the future.

The main impact of the condition was upon my mother where the majority of care and responsibilities lay.

When my father had dementia the very worst thing you could do would be to admit him to a hospital bed.

I remember the occasions when I would visit him and he would literally beg me to take him home. Even given my knowledge and experience I still sometimes had to argue with well-meaning healthcare staff who wanted to keep him in hospital when he and I knew that his ailments were incurable.

The best place for him to be was at home cared for with love and compassion by his family; no-one could understand and meet his needs better than my mother.

But I also understand the enormous stresses this can create and the need for health and care services to be there in a supporting role.

It is these experiences that have shaped my attitude towards the work I do.

It has made me absolutely committed to improving mental health services and campaigning for more resources, which now are beginning to come through with investment in our trust this year.

It also makes me reflect on the pattern of how we are developing our services locally as we plan a new future for Norfolk through the STP, particularly as my own need for care seems ever closer!

So, let's be open about our experiences and use them positively, and collaboratively campaign for a better future for all impacted by mental health issues.

• For more from the EDP's special mental health takeover edition, click here.