Silent suffering: How the Men of Today Approach Talking about Their Feelings.

When I was asked to write about mental health, more specifically men’s mental health, I will admit that I struggled immensely with writer’s block. As a subject that I have designated my writing to before, I did not want to repeat the same, tired statistics that make no difference to a matter that we have so wrongly considered taboo. Just over a year ago, my own mental health dipped to the lowest point that I have ever experienced. Together, we must break the stigma that surrounds men’s mental health issues, and I would like to use my own experiences to help further the message that men must speak up.

December, 2023. I had a phone call whilst on work night out from my Dad, telling me that after a long illness, my Grandpa had passed away. Around two months earlier was a call that informed me of my Nan’s sudden passing. Balancing uni, a job that I worked for at least 25-30 hours a week, gigging weekly with my band and still making time for my girlfriend was starting to become draining, and I had worked out that I wouldn't have a day of doing nothing until February at the earliest. It wasn’t apparent to me at that point, but I was starting to become depressed.

Depression works its way through a person like an anaesthetic. It encompasses your brain, clouds your feelings and makes you numb to everything positive that surrounds you. I would get home from my job, convinced that everyone around me hated me, that my house despised me and wanted me gone. I have never been a sufferer of social anxiety, but I found myself unable to believe that anyone liked me. I was so desperate for some form of escape from how my life was going that I even tried moving house just for a different atmosphere. When that fell through, my escape plan turned darker. Thoughts of sadness turned to thoughts of helplessness. Thoughts of helplessness turned to thoughts of self harm. Thoughts of self harm turned to thoughts of suicide. Had I not had a mental breakdown one night, where I revealed everything to my girlfriend, I think things may have gone very differently.

And it is upon reflection of these events, as I look back on that time, that I realise just how important talking is. We all sit in circles and say “I’m always here, you can talk to me” - but how often do we truly mean it? How often does suffering fall upon deaf ears and blind eyes? All the time.

And after going through this turmoil, this inner hatred and self-loathing, I can explicitly tell you why men are silent, why we choose to suffer rather than speak, what goes through our heads:

I didn’t think people would care. I didn’t want to bother them. I thought it was just me being stupid. I thought they would judge me for it. I didn’t want to look sad and bring the mood down. A thousand reasons and rationalisations just like these ran around my head for months on end, and in hindsight, I get it. I get why those ‘tired statistics’ exist. I get why 40% of men won’t talk about their mental health. I get why suicide is the leading killer in men under 50. I get why 29% of men won’t speak about their mental health because they are ‘too embarrassed.’

It’s a mindset. The stigma that we all so avidly want to destroy is no longer the primary enemy - it is the way in which men think that their feelings will be received. It is the concept of masculinity. We are so frightened of showing any forms of weakness, due to a system that is reinforced through patriarchal notions that constantly surround young men (looking at you, Andrew Tate). It is because of our mental block, that so desperately holds onto our fragile ideals of ‘dignity’, that we cannot begin to speak out about our problems.

We can all make a difference, we can all make the change. Let’s make an effort to show men that they can be upset, and that they can talk to anyone about how they are feeling and their personal struggles. Let’s destroy ‘masculinity’, forever.