HE was the fan in the stands who took to the streets, the lifelong Light Blue who became a figure to rally round for his fellow supporters. From protests to boardroom meetings, legal letters to the director’s box, Craig Houston’s part in Rangers’ recent history will be remembered for years to come. His book, ‘Sons of Struth Demand the Truth’ tells his story during the fight for his club. In part one of SportTimes’ exclusive serialisation, read how his battle with depression almost got the better of him as his personal life suffered, how a chilling message was delivered and about the night his father joined him at the top of the Marble Staircase.

THE pressure I felt under when I was being sued for £200,000 by Sandy Easdale was immense. I was on edge constantly as a result.

In the first 12 months that Sons of Struth was on the go I was probably averaging four hours sleep a night. I would lie awake for hours digesting what had happened that day in the news - because the stories about Rangers at that time were pretty much constant - and thinking about my next move.

The worst time was in the run-up to the AGM. I would go over things in my mind again and again and again. I would say to myself: "What haven't I covered? What haven't I done? What more can I do? Can I send more emails? Can I organise more protests?"

I started to think if the vote went against us I was personally responsible for every single person who had held up red cards at our protests. I genuinely believed I would have let down the thousands of people who had looked to us for guidance and had backed us.

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I would experience visions of the faces of all of the people who had come to meetings, distributed leaflets and helped us throughout the process. It was a horrible time.

Sandy Chugg saw it and became concerned. I had suffered from depression on and off in the past. It had first happened when I was working down in London for a spell.

* Craig Houston: The pile of ashes and chilling messages that sent out the warning 'we know where you live'

* Craig Houston: My memorable night in the Blue Room with Rangers legends, and my dad

I was commuting between there and Glasgow at weekends. That was difficult situation and was probably one of the factors which contributed to the break-up of my marriage.

I went through a bout of depression without realising it. It was only when I came out the other side of it that it dawned on me what it had actually been.

Depression is a terrible, horrible, savage thing. You get to a point where you are convinced there is no way out of the predicament you are in. I would compare it to being stuck at the bottom of the well and reaching for the sky but being unable to scale the walls.

Glasgow Times: Craig Houston of the Sons of Struth

I actually started to think: "Would the world be a better place without me?" It got so bad at one point that I even considered ways I could end my life.

It didn't seem abnormal to think that way either.

I was in a well-paid job at the time. Money wasn’t an issue. My business partner and I had two company cars at the time. One was a Bentley and the other one was a Jaguar. But the pressures of work, of being away from home, of not being around to help raise my young children, all took a toll.

Managing my own business was a large part of it. I was in charge of a company which was generating millions of pounds a year in revenue and had several staff members.

There were great expectations of me. I got to a point where my head couldn't cope. I started thinking crazy thoughts which, to me at the time, seemed completely rational.

I had even gone so far as to contemplate crashing my car as I was driving back to Glasgow on the M6 and killing myself. That seemed rational to me in the appalling condition I was in.

I would think: "If I don't drive up the road with six cans of Red Bull and the air conditioning on full blast this Friday as usual I’ll get really tired and it’ll be easier to crash my car."

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To a normal person, that seems utterly insane. But you get so down that is how you can think. You don’t think: "Jesus Christ! I'm thinking about doing myself in here!" It is like having a heavy rucksack on your back weighing you down.

Thankfully, I came out of that situation after getting a fright on the road home when the wheels of my car started to hit the rumble strip. It was only then that I realised I must be depressed.

The next time it occurred, when my marriage finally broke down, I could see it coming and I sought help. I made an appointment to see a doctor.

Even before I went to the chemist with a prescription the dark cloud that was hanging over me was lifted. Just speaking to somebody about it was like taking a drug in itself.

You don't speak to people about these things. At least, men in Scotland don’t.

You don't share your feelings when you are depressed. But just getting it off your chest is a help.

The doctor asked me about my sleeping, about my diet and various other things. Then he told me: "You're clinically depressed." It was almost a relief.

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You can differentiate between depression and reality and you can do something about it. Once you accept you’re unwell you can take affirmative action.

I could see the same signs in the run-up to the AGM. Instead of a number of things in your life taking up my energy, focus and time, just one thing dominated my every waking hour. It became all-consuming.

I started to think I couldn't cope. I was getting panic attacks. I was waking up after being asleep for an hour or two covered from head to toe in sweat.

When I was getting sued I hit another real low. I started to think: "I can't cope with this. I'm never going to get out of this." I realised how much this whole campaign had impacted on my life.

I don't own much, but I could have lost everything. Just because I had stood and voiced my disquiet about how my football club was being run.

I also started to think of my personal life. My relationship with my girlfriend had ended because Sons of Struth had become my life. That started to really sink in at that point.

But by then it was too late. I had also gone weeks without access to my son and daughter. I genuinely believed that those relationships, the most important in my life, were in jeopardy.

My son was a teenager and, like most teenagers, he was embarrassed by his da'. When his old man was plastered across the front and back pages of the newspapers every other day and was popping up on television and the radio I’m quite sure he didn't think: "Good on you pops for standing up for the Rangers!"

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I don't think he got ridiculed for it. Most of his pals are Rangers supporters and I’m sure they must have thought it was quite cool that I was giving it tight to the board.

But he decided he wanted to stop coming to see his dad on a Sunday and stop going to the football with him. His mum was concerned too.

She thought we were going to games and ripping up stadiums. I am sure she put pressure on him as well.

Going to Rangers games with my son was always a nice experience for me. I lost that for a long time. For a long time after Sons of Struth started I didn’t go to one match with him. If my son didn't want to come and see me then my daughter wouldn't come either.

When all that happens and you are feeling down you do ask yourself if it is all worth it. Your relationship is breaking up.

Your business is suffering. You aren't seeing your children.

I definitely fell down to the bottom of that well again. It was hard to see a way out at times.

'Sons of Struth demand the truth' is released on December 11 and available from http://store.sonsofstruth.co.uk/products/sons-of-struth-demand-the-truth-pre-launch-order