Hello, my name's James, I'm a lanky lad who likes to play games and write stories, and I'm passionate about aspects of psychology, philosophy and society.

I know the mental struggles which men have to face very, very well.
From a young age I've always been a ripe target for bullying: imagine being a polite kid raised by a loving family, who was kind, considerate, peaceful, creative, was easily stressed, had acne, severe trichotillomania, and still loved Nintendo games past the age of 6. Yeah - to my bullies I was like the gift that kept on giving.
As I got older, times only got worse, from simple name-calling and isolation, to groups of lads saying they'll wait for me on my walk route back home to take it in turns to stab me. My teachers would run down and constantly attempt to destroy my passion for videogames and writing fantasy. When I found myself kicking and screaming because I knew something wasn't right inside, my family were barely supportive (albeit due to not understanding. I love them) and my doctors and counsellors would simply write me off the list and send me on my merry way for only having "minor symptoms".
The pressure I had on me in my teenage years was harrowing, and just like many young men you will discover these days - I told nobody. During secondary school I developed a crippling fear of everyone, only leaving my house if absolutely necessary. I would count myself lucky if I made it back to my house alive and saw every trip away from the safety of my room as risking my very life. I would cross the street when people were near me, madly sprint home from school and be nasty to those who approached me, because unfortunately the effects of my trauma had developed in me a "guilty before proven innocent" stigma for everyone which I unfortunately still cannot shake today. I have had bouts of depression that come upon me like some vile disease, where I am paralysed in my bed every morning, numb all over, heart rate plummeting and a crushing weight on my chest and body which prevents me from even lifting my fingers. A stark lack of friends and an environment devoid of love and care resulted in me losing my sense of identity. I would forget what I looked like and who I was (which as a result, led to some surprising encounters when I passed my own reflection), viewing myself as only some camera who watched the world as it passed by, not eating or communicating.

But don't be silly, they say, real men don't cry.
Right from birth, us boys are conditioned and engineered to hide all of our emotions away and bottle them up, resulting in many poor men fearing ridicule for talking to someone about how they feel or seeking help, and some finding that the only way to relieve their suffering is to end their own lives. And don't even get me started on society's treatment of men, from a mainstream acceptance of radical feminism, perfectly legal and respected abuse or humiliation of men, and generally unnoticed double-standards which further push us down the rabbit hole of self-hatred and suicide.
I've teetered on the edge of suicide, and I've looked directly into the void many more times than I'd like to admit, but luckily, a small spark of light and the realisation of the devastating effect it would have on all those I'd leave behind would always stop me in my tracks.
Moving to university was extremely tough, and the tragic and bittersweet breakdown of a relationship, and the consumption of news of death, global warming and the skyrocketing rate of mental health issues in young people made me doubt whether life was worth living again - until I discovered Staffordshire University's enlightening Student Wellbeing services. Now I am taking regular therapy and medication, and I now understand my conditions and have learned to at least coexist with them. Before it was too late I discovered that there were people out there who cared for me and listened to what I had to say.

I will be campaigning with Movember this year because I have first-hand experience of the life-ruining consequences of bottling up your emotions, and thoughts of suicide - and I strongly believe none of my fellow fellas deserve to be in the same situation.
I will be donating the few £20's I would otherwise be spending on overpriced Domino's pizzas or rounds of beer to really make a difference towards preventing mental health issues and suicide in men - and I'm writing to say that YOU SHOULD DO THE SAME!

So what are you waiting for? If you're a student in Stoke, chip in and help a bloke.