Tom Oliver faces challenges on a daily basis that most couldn’t imagine in a lifetime. But for all his swagger, confidence and can-do attitude, underneath there is a person who has lived through the highs and lows.
Tom Oliver says his wheelchair is a superpower for talking to people. Indeed, some say he is very easy to chat with. He’s been known to engage in conversation with friends for hours at a time.
“I think the wheelchair makes me less intimidating,” he says. “And then when I talk to people I speak with confidence. They can be themselves. I think that’s why some call me Therapist Tom.”
As he bolts along Pittwater Rd to meet for our interview, the Narrabeen resident is calm and cool and oozes confidence. He is punctual, and something tells me that this is just his normal speed.
“Social anxiety is the secret mental health issue. It’s not talked about much because it’s the last thing anyone with it wants to talk about.”
Tom is 26 and lives a full life – with all its peaks and troughs. He is one of three children and loves his family. He’s also committed to his mates and says they are with each other through thick and thin, even referring to themselves as ‘the brothers’.
He has limb girdle muscular dystrophy which means all the muscles in his body are deteriorating. “This type predominately affects hips and shoulders,” he says. “Basically my body is missing one protein in the 30,000 that people have, and this is the damage it does.” He pauses before asking rhetorically, “One protein … crazy isn’t it?”
Despite being in a wheelchair since primary school, Tom has always been in the centre of the action.
At 16, he does what many young people do and joins the party scene. “I do party drugs. Drink. I have a good time. For someone in a wheelchair … not many are going out every weekend. It’s fun.” But after a few years of this there suddenly comes a hiccup; it’s called social anxiety. It metaphorically throws him and he asks: ‘How are you even meant to know what it is?’
“I have social anxiety,” he says. “But I can fake it. I think social anxiety is the secret mental health issue. It’s not talked about much because it’s the last thing anyone with it wants to talk about – they’re not about to own up to it.”
Following school he gets a job in customer service at Volkswagen who, he says, are really good to him. He stays there six years before having to leave for medical reasons.
By the age of 20, Tom is wondering how he is going to keep up the social persona he’s created. He falls into depression and tries desperately to find relief in prescribed medication. “For the first year, I am trying all these anti-depressents. Five different types. Nothing works. My parents say ‘why are you in such a rush’. I’d look at them and think ‘why do you think I’m in a rush’. It’s a terminal disease.”
Emotionally, the downward spiral begins. “I was living so recklessly,” he confesses. “My parents were terrified. But I wasn’t scared of dying. I went ballistic. When I went out I was rude to people – I hate that now. At that time, I had four ambulance trips. All ODs. I’m not sure how I survived.”
All the anxiety, masking, illicit drug use, and self-destructive behaviour leads to a suicide attempt at 23, at a big hotel in the city. But the aftermath of this is the turning point: “After the final incident, a doctor kneels beside my wheelchair, eyes watering, and says: “You don’t have nine lives. You have 10.” This is when Tom chooses to get sober.
Nowadays he’s an advocate for mental health and his story touches the lives of friends and strangers alike. He says being at war with your mind is 10-times harder than being at war with your body. His mission is simple: to turn his lived experience into something that helps others survive theirs.
He says being at war with your mind is 10-times harder than being at war with your body.
His debut poetry book is called Still Fire, comprising 141 poems with 141 artworks by 10 artists. “It reflects the rawness of my journey,” he says. “I want it to be cinematic … like a short film in your head.” For the illustrations, Tom allocates a budget of $2000, enlisting the talents of artists from around the world. “I end up blowing the budget by a further two-and-a-half grand. These pen and ink images are so beautiful. They evoke the poetry, and vice-versa.”
Tom says the mental health struggles continue but now he is in a better place to deal with them. I ask if there is pressure in being so capable? He says yes, but that learning comes with it.
“There’s no instruction manual on how I should be or act. I don’t know what to do, and so I’m always learning. It’s like ‘bang’ I’m in this position, so let’s just have a go.”
Now Tom is approaching his life with purpose; there’s purpose each morning. Although quickly admitting, mornings are not his best time! “You just have to open your eyes and look … this place where we live is so beautiful,” he says. “I see the good in people that others don’t. Many people are willing to help me every day. Even with things like getting on a bus.”
Another example is in the most human of acts: At the end of 2024, Tom breaks his ankle and spends eight weeks in bed recovering. There is no strength in his body by the end of this. Later on, when he ventures out and needs to go to the toilet, he requires assistance.
In the absence of friends or family, he asks random people to help him. He is clear that it’s totally up to them, and he only asks men. He says 95% of the guys he asks agree to help him move his legs forward into position, so he can urinate.
“The point is these same guys really open up,” he says. “The conversations afterwards are amazing. The things I hear! We stay in the bathroom talking about their issues for about half-an-hour.
“Me being vulnerable allows them to be vulnerable.”
Tom says it’s the moments that push and break him that make him the person he is. “Anyone who has come out the other side of mental health has gained so much knowledge by being broken,” he says.
“I can appreciate the highs now; I really try to capture them in my mind. But when you’re in the air, you’ve got to prepare for the landing. And when the lows do come, that’s where you learn.”
