The stigma of mental health in young men.

The stigma around mental health in men is real. Men naturally bottle up and ignore their emotions and feelings and the most common reason as to why this occurs is because they don't want to be perceived as a "pussy".

I've always been a thinker and a worrier since a young age. Even the smallest of tasks such as answering a question in class would have me overthinking and worrying simply because I was feared of being perceived as "stupid" in front of the class if i had answered the teacher incorrectly.

Depression and anxiety were taboo subjects for me while I was growing up. I thought a depressed person would be someone who has no friends, family, someone who constantly sad and lonely. How can I be depressed? I've got good friends around me, a family who loves and supports me no matter what.

I didn't even know what anxiety was until early this year (2019!!) I had always assumed anxiety was suffered by someone who was mentally weak and couldn't bear their own thoughts.

During my teenage years, anyone who was suffering from anxiety or depression (especially if you was a male) was considered as weak. We weren't really taught much about it in school either. As a teenager I knew mental health issues existed, but didn't really think I would have been affected by it.

The first time I actually considered that I might be suffering from anxiety was when I had read Charlamagne's book: Shook One: Mind Playing Tricks on Me. Before this, my doctor had diagnosed me with anxiety and depression during my college days. Being your average teenage hot head, I didn't take his advice on counselling as I thought he was talking shit (and the fact I only went to see him because my mum was nagging me to).

I was watching my family members and friends all graduate from university and getting good paid jobs while I was working for a car parts distributor as a security guard (with a very decent salary for the job role). However, I didn't feel a sense of belonging when I was around certain people. They had "made it" while I was working in a dead end job. This caused me to feel quite alone at times. The worst part is that I didn't TALK to anyone about what was on my mind, so I'd always end up overthinking and creating new problems (in my mind) for no absolute reason at all.

So why didn't I speak to anyone about my problems or how I felt? I grew up without my father around from the age of seven. I could have spoken to my mum about certain issues, but sometimes you need to listen to the views of a man (most people talk to their fathers/uncles/older brother). The reason I didn't confide in friends was simply because I thought my "friends" would think I'm just being a "pussy" and laugh at my expense. I basically ignored my internal cries for help when I needed help the most.

At this point in my life (oh yeah before I forget to mention, I dropped out of university too) the only success that I had felt was the acknowledgement of failure. My anxiety started to get worse. During my time in college my lecturers had drilled one thing in to my head - the only way have a successful career was by having a degree.

Now that I have dropped out uni how will I have a successful career? Am i going to have to earn minimum wage for the rest of my life? The girls are going to laugh at me when they find out how much I earn for a living. All these thoughts going through my head at the time were creating unnecessary stress and problems that didn't even exist.

So while I was studying at university, I got myself a security license. This enabled me to work as a security guard on a part time basis while I was studying. I worked for a security contract agency and would travel to various different places around the midlands.

When I had dropped out of uni, I decided to look for full time work within security. As I had a very limited amount of experience within the industry, I was struggling I was struggling to find work. For three months I had attended numerous job interviews and got the same answer from every single one of them - We'll be in touch with you if you have been successful. Had I heard back from any of them? No. One guy (some white guy who probably didn't like me because of the colour of my skin) even told me I was better off signing on at the Job Centre. Now I was about to hit rock bottom. I had dropped out of uni and three months later couldn't find a stable income either.

One sunny spring afternoon, I received an email from the company I currently work for. HR had emailed me saying that they had read my CV and wanted to interview me. I replied back to the email and arranged my interview. The interview was held my the regional security manager (lots of love and respect for you bro). We had the interview, done a little maths and english assessment, then before I left the interview he used that famous line "If you are successful, I'll be in touch with you". A week down the line, the shift manager called me. It was good news and bad news. So I had originally applied for five days with a salary of £25,250. However, something had gone wrong within the security department and they needed to make some changes. I was offered an alternative shift and shift pattern (both which worked out better for me). I was offered four nights a week with a salary of £19,950. The money was a lot less than the original advertisement, however, I was in no position to turn down the offer. I took his offer. So now I was in a very good position, one better than I had dreamt of. I was directly employed by a company as an in-house security officer with a decent salary.

The second time my anxiety and depression kicked in when there was a major change within the organisation I was working for. They had four distribution centres. Two which they owned and two which were on lease. They had just spend a good few million pounds building a distribution centre from scratch. This place was so big, they no longer required the distribution centres which were on lease. We were all moving to this new, state of the art, distribution centre.

I had just got to know the security team at the current distribution centre where I was based at and all of the managers that worked on the same shift as me. Now it was like I'd have to do the same thing all over again. Go to a new, unfamiliar territory, get to know how things worked and all the new faces that I'd have to work with. Daunting as the change sounded, it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

Working at the new distribution centre had two benefits:

1. I had a pay rise from £19,950 to £23,000.

2. I worked from Sunday - Wednesday which meant I had Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and practically the whole of Sunday off.

A few months down the line, all this was about to change. I had been put on to the Saturday - Tuesday roster which meant I had lost my weekend. As silly as this is going to sound, I actually felt depressed knowing that I'd have to be stuck at work on the weekend while my friends were out chilling. I thought they'd end up forgetting about me.

For the next month I was depressed as hell and hated the job. I became extremely unhappy. Everything about the job pissed me off. I couldn't stand the people I was now working with. Thankfully certain staff members started to leave from the security team. The managers had decided to hire a few more guards for the weekend. The guards who were hired were around the same age range as me so working on the weekend was no longer that bad. It was (and still is) actually quite fun.

At the end of 2018, I reflected on all the changes that had occurred since the beginning of 2017. I had not felt one bit of emotion or regret in the decisions that I had made. The deep feeling of fear had overshadowed over me at every waking moment. In effect I had lived a year of my life on autopilot. Even if I had not realised it at the time. The anxiety paralysed me on several occasions. Caused me to say and do things that were completely out of touch with my character. All those who worked with me during this period would've noticed this, and thought I was an arsehole (which I no doubt most my new colleagues did think I was). Yet to the outside world, I was fine. I laughed, smiled and continued to joke around just as I always had done. It was all a front. To be honest, I even managed to fool myself into thinking I was fine. So it hardly comes as a surprise that others didn't notice.

In early 2019, I read a book by an American radio DJ named Charlamagne Tha God, who suffered from anxiety, depression, and panic attacks. The book inspired me to go and seek help. It was the best decision I've ever made.

I now understand anxiety and depression more than ever before. I am learning how to challenge my anxiety, and have discovered how to beat it. I am allowing myself to feel positive. To smile and actually feel it. I still have tough days, probably always will. But the coping mechanisms I have discovered in this short period of time are making life so much easier.

The reason I share my story is not for pity or attention. It is because the stigmas attached to mental health, especially in young men. I am a normal person. A strong person. A reasonably intelligent person. Anxiety and depression doesn't target weak people, or weird people or a particular gender. And yet, I still feel the need to justify that. There's nothing wrong with getting help. Just as much you'd pay for a gym membership for the health and well-being of your body, you should invest just as much for the health and well-being of your mind. I accept that some people will never understand and I am on terms with that, but I hope that my insight into the mind of someone who suffers from depression and anxiety helps understand the world we live in!