Lesley Riddoch: Ruth Davidson brave in mental health revelations but '˜must now differ from UK Tories'

Ruth Davidson has grabbed the limelight this weekend, with the news that she never wants to be Prime Minister. Ever. As conservative Middle England reels from the discovery that its favourite Scot will not become a 'national treasure' or mount a straight-talking rescue from public school politics any time soon, there's another stunning revelation '“ the Scottish Tory leader self-harmed when she was a teenager.

The 39-year-old, now pregnant with her first child, was sent into a “tailspin” at the age of 17 by the suicide of a local boy, which prompted her to cut herself, drink “far, far, too much” and become “belligerent and angry”.

A year later she was diagnosed with clinical depression and started having “desperate, dark, terrible dreams” and suicidal thoughts. Her depression was “like a smothering black blanket over my head cutting out the sky.” Ms Davidson says she is “still frightened” about going back to the “psychological place I once inhabited”, values her relationship and mental health too much to move south and relies on “structure, exercise, forward momentum, measurable outcomes” to combat anxiety.

Ruth Davidson. Leader of the Scottish Conservatives, Ruth Davidson.

Asked about becoming a peer or MP to advance her political career, Ms Davidson said such speculation was “bollocks.”

It’s a lot to take in. Ruth Davidson’s jaunty, confident manner has always been her strongest calling card. Indeed, in a front page Sunday paper interview, the Scottish Tory leader is pictured heavily pregnant, side on and winking. It’s a typically bold, direct gaze that makes it hard to imagine any earlier moments of depression, anxiety and distress. Of course, that’s why Ms Davidson’s story is so powerful – it shows that absolutely anyone can experience mental health problems and recover sufficiently to apparently revel in the vicious world of party politics.

Actually, in the “me too” era, Ms Davidson’s admission of vulnerability is a demonstration of strength. The same is true of Nicola Sturgeon who admitted last week that she was bullied at school.

Speaking at a special First Minister’s questions for Scotland’s Year of Young People, the SNP leader said: “I went through periods at school of bullying. I wouldn’t say it ever got to a really serious level that made me scared to go to school. But I had experiences at primary school where it certainly was sufficient to involve a teacher.”

This has done Ms Sturgeon no harm. At a time when respect for the distant, lofty, superior political class is waning, there’s little to lose from appearing more like the electorate and less like indestructible political automatons. Confident women in top positions can make such moves – last week at Westminster Lib Dem deputy leader Jo Swinson cradled her baby on Parliament’s famous green benches for the first time during a Commons debate.

But the most significant aspect of Ruth Davidson’s revelations has hardly been discussed. Southern commentators insist she has prioritised personal life over career, but that may not be true. In choosing Scotland over England, Holyrood over Westminster and the chance of becoming First Minister over