The Courage to Speak: Why Men’s Mental Health Still Deserves Our Voice

The Courage to Speak: Why Men’s Mental Health Still Deserves Our Voice

In an age where pseudo-masculinity tries its best to eclipse the public discourse of men’s mental health, it’s important to understand that, whilst great progress has been made, there’s still so much more to accomplish. In a recent survey of 1,000 men in the UK, the Priory Group found that 40% of men have never spoken to anyone about their mental health, with 29% of those admitting that they are “too embarrassed to speak about it”, and 20% saying that there is a negative stigma on the issue.

This is but a fraction of the population and it goes without saying that the statistics are damning.

And those figures do not improve across La Manche. On mainland Europe, a 2019 European Commission survey noted 31% of men reported feeling that they had no one to talk to about their mental health. This was supported by a Men’s Health Europe investigation that showed that 41% of men in the European Union did not know how to discuss their emotions.

The trend across the European continent, and the world over, is that of men continuing to struggle with vulnerability, rendered mute by the deafening noise of their psychological and emotional struggles. In the UK alone, suicide remains the leading cause of death for men under 50.

The reading of these statistics casts me back to my twenty-year-old self; a walking ball of angst, unable to shake the permanent furrowed brow and the dull ache of (what was unbeknownst to me at the time) depression. After a year of living abroad as a student, and unable to navigate the complex waters of my ailing mental health on my own, a loved one confronted me in heartbreaking fashion, and it was during this late-night phone call that I made the decision to seek help. The next day, I plucked the last iota of courage by taking myself to the university’s on-campus counselling service and it was in that sunbaked, stuffy counsellors’ office where I started on my long road to recovery. At first quiet and reserved, I recall the words suddenly tumbling out of my mouth, communicating emotions that were every bit as real as they were confusing. Within a week of that first meeting, weekly appointments were established with a private counsellor who was recommended by my university. The bottled-up emotions spilled forth and the days of either being too embarrassed to seek help, or not knowing who to turn to, were a distant memory.

Fifteen years on, and those same fragilities remain. And that is more than fine. I have learned that those fragilities make me ….me, just as I have learned that continuing to seek support when times are tough is a necessity.

However, the greatest lesson I have learned is that my being open has allowed others to have the confidence to approach me for advice and begin their own journeys of healing, no matter how long the road. If my twenty-year-old self could see me now, I’m sure there would be utter disbelief met with a quiet sense of pride in how far I’ve come on my own healing journey; in how I advocate at every turn; in how my vulnerability has helped others in need.

It's for that reason I can never be silent and will forever strive to give the voiceless a voice in their hours of need.

Article by Callum Wilson.