"Last Movember I spoke to a different man about mental health every day for a month. The process was anonymous, talking to some for 20 minutes about issues that hadn’t affected us; other days, chats lasted 2 hours about very personal journeys people had been through. Everyone’s experiences were different, but one thing I learnt is that so many things are more universal than we think: we all want to be happy, we all have our battles with mental health issues, whatever they may be.
In England, around 1 in 8 men have a common mental health problem such as depression, anxiety, panic disorder or obsessive-compulsive disorder and these are only those diagnosed. Statistics such as 75% of suicides in 2017 were men in the UK and only 36% of referrals to the NHS for therapy are for men would suggest we do not talk about mental health enough. My aim was to get people talking about mental health more casually and to learn about people’s experiences and the way they view mental health.
For me, 2020 was one of the worst years of my life. I couldn’t tell you why. I don’t blame Covid for it. I think it was a build up of problems that I hadn’t addressed. By December, I drank way too much, I was grumpier than usual. It took conversations with the university welfare team, friends and finally parents to take the first steps to trying to feel better. This article is not being written by someone who now has everything figured out – I am far from it and still do struggle with my mental health at times. This is not me writing about what habits are good or bad, what is true or false, it is simply a recount of what I’ve learnt from this entire experience. Of course, I cannot talk about everyone’s experiences that I spoke to, but interesting patterns in the way people talk about mental health did crop up.
People talked about opening up in similar ways: of breaking down a wall or barrier; of opening a door. One image that stood out to me was when one person spoke of it as a jar: “Once you open up, it’s a jar that cannot be closed, you instantly feel more comfortable talking about your feelings”. All these actions described are ones of liberation, a release from whatever was pent up. It is scary to open up for the first time, but he was right to say you begin to feel more comfortable talking about your feelings. Once you have done it, it becomes easier simply because you know you have done it before.
Yes, it is an obvious point that talking about our feelings is generally a good thing. However, one question that does draw a lot of anxiety for some is simply wondering “who do I turn to?” The majority of people I spoke to initially voiced a concern that they did not want to worry others, or to put their problems onto someone else. Often there was a desire to have an aspect of mutual trust, with one person voicing that “If you open up to me, I know I can to you” or vice versa sort of mentality. One stated how “honesty breeds more honesty”, another similarly shared his belief that “trust comes from a mutual surrendering” to one another. Ultimately, we open up to those we feel comfortable around. There was a reluctance in some men I asked about how likely they would open up, with a lot talking about not wanting to put a burden on their friends. However, it is not a weight to be placed elsewhere, but a release.
Often when these things remain held in, it can be harder to open up – the lid can become tighter. Multiple people admitted that when a friend had opened up they had not really seen it coming. In more serious cases, holding these things in can be too late, with one saying how they weren’t aware of their uncle’s mental health until he had taken his life during the first lockdown. In other cases that I heard,lots of men only opened up when they themselves were at their lowest, whether that was self-harm, overdosing, or severe panic attacks. “We need to look after each other”, one of my friends said, “it’s as simple as that” — there is a communal aspect to looking after ourselves. Those that we feel comfortable talking to simply want the best for us.
It is also not just a question of should we open up and who to, “but how you talk about your emotions” that is important, one friend said. How we articulate our emotions can take practice. It is easy to accept that talking helps, but it isn’t a matter of talking about how the football game was that week, but rather to ask the more meaningful questions, or bring up what is on your mind. We live in a time where mental health conditions are much more defined, but that by no means makes them any easier to necessarily handle. With everyone I spoke to, it became clear our mental health has a longevity to it, as something to be worked on everyday.
“You get out what you put into your mental health” one stated. Another spoke of the process of managing their mental health as if you were building a house: “we all build a house differently, the scaffolding of it are all our individual methods”. He spoke of how these parts consist of the little wins, those routines and support networks that are crucial to keep the house standing. One word that turned up in a large number of my conversations was the need to “reset”, to do something that takes your mind off things, feel more grounded, or gain a more distanced perspective on what is bothering you. For many, there seemed to be a power in the routines, whatever they may be.
It is sometimes hard to have patience with these routines. For ourselves more than anyone. It is harder because we are probably our biggest critics. We know ourselves the most: we know what we are, what we are not, we know the thoughts we have, we remember our countless actions and thoughts that, to us, are examples of exactly who we are. It is so easy to view self-criticism as part of our identity, and it becomes harder to overcome – we imbed these ideas as part of our story. But, taking a step back – whether that is by doing something that makes you feel grounded or speaking to someone – we can begin to realise these negative aspects we see in ourselves don’t have to have such a hold over us.
There is a strength in opening up. There is nothing to be ashamed of in one’s mental health struggles. Yes, the level of severity may differ from each person, but everyone comes to face challenges, the most we can do is listen and try and understand with no judgement. Granted, we don’t always know what to say. Part of that is how we get better at looking after others, for many, it is simply knowing you have people around you that support you. Redefining what it means to be strong to children is just one aspect. Not in a physical sense, not dealing with things completely independently. One person when I asked about the stigma surrounding therapists said how “people have a personal trainer for the gym, what is the difference for a therapist — they’re like a personal trainer for the mind”. Strength lies in honesty – with others and ourselves– in opening up, and in helping others. Yes, this is crucial for a future generation that is even more vulnerable to social media, but it also starts with us.
I learnt from every single one I spoke to. As I began writing this, perhaps even as I started to think about how I may write this, I realised that my intention on writing about mental health was not only to affect others, but also, and I admit this shamelessly selfishly, myself. I cannot stress enough after this experience how important talking about mental health is. Talking about things in a casual, yet serious way has allowed me to take on my own issues so much more constructively; words like “anxiety” and “depression” have less of a hold over you and you gain new ways of seeing things by talking to others."
I asked all thirty people if they could give a few words of advice or support to someone struggling with their mental health, in whatever form that may be. Below are those thirty responses:
Head here if you're feeling low or overwhelmed, or if you need help navigating a chat with someone who might be struggling.