10/05/2021
This may be an unpopular opinion but men are set up for failure in today’s society. Not monetarily, not sexually, but emotionally. We’re taught that our value comes in our ability to provide money, housing, security, protection, a listening ear, a problem solving mind, a shoulder to cry on, a rock to build a family on. Where’s our rock though? Who do we turn to when we need reassurance and comfort? It should be our partners, but so often we don’t seek help from anyone because we’d be admitting we couldn’t provide on our own. We’d be weak, or less of a man. Less of a provider. If I can’t even keep my emotional state steady, how am I going to provide stability for anyone else?
The society I was raised in would think of me as a weakling now. A whiny sissy-boy who can’t handle a desk job without feeling sorry for himself? Hell, I tend to agree with that warped perception of my reality. Externally people see a clinically depressed and bipolar 31 year old who used to be a paramedic and couldn’t handle the job after ten years so he quit to ride a desk instead of an ambulance.
People see me arrive at work tired, sad and unmotivated. They don’t see the nightmares I had all night.
People see me tapping my feet and appearing uncomfortable in public. They don’t see how I’m analyzing every face, every movement through the doors, every possibility for something terrible to occur. My hyper-vigilance has me scanning and paranoid, unable to maintain focus on the conversation or even enjoy my meal. I just rush through both so I can be away from the crowds. Away from the possibility of danger. Away from the chaos I used to bring order to, but now overwhelms me.
I’m a broken man. It’s okay for me to admit that, because broken things can be fixed to an extent. There’s hope for me, but it’s a difficult path. I have to completely change the way I think about what’s good for me. I’m trying to do that by thinking less about what I can sacrifice for others and more about what I can do for myself. It’s a delicate balancing act to tread between self-reliance and fear of codependency, but it’s a tightrope we all must walk in some fashion.
Fortunately, because I tell people I’m treading this difficult path, I have a crowd of people with their arms raised, ready to catch me when I inevitably fall again. That gives me the safety net I need to venture out on my own journey, to explore my own wants and desires and needs that aren’t about pouring from an empty cup, but about filling mine back up again. I never would’ve had the courage to put myself and my health first if I hadn’t been vulnerable early on. If I hadn’t spoken about my mental illness to others. I had to tell people I was falling so I could be caught.
Dr. Jordan Peterson taught me to treat myself like somebody I’m responsible for. I think about what I’d do for myself if I was somebody else, and that perspective helps me be an advocate for myself since it’s been hardwired into me from an early age that my very existence is to be in service to others. Well now it’s time to self-serve, and when my cup filled again I can help fill others’ cups too. It’s like placing the oxygen mask on yourself first during depressurization of an airliner. If I can’t breathe, I can’t help, and lately it feels like I’m suffocating.
So I’m hitting a wall. I’m gonna lean on it. Take some time to breathe and care for myself like I’m somebody else. This is me putting that mask on myself. I’ll be able to help others again soon, but for now I’m helping me.
Don’t feel ashamed to help yourselves too. Nobody can be a better advocate for you than you. Speak up, have your voice heard and you’ll find a lot more are eager to listen and show you love than you may have thought.
Men, don’t feed into the mental health shame culture we’ve created. You want to provide something for others? Provide empathy to your fellow man. Provide patience when he doesn’t know how to express himself. Provide guidance when your brothers are lost. Men are passionate creatures. We take pride in what our hands can build. Let’s build each other up too. The strength and courage gained from our friendships and relationships can fuel achievement we’d never have dreamt we’re capable of. Stop competing for an arbitrary “alpha status” (the people you consider to be “alphas” don’t think in those terms anyway) and start supporting your brothers.
Mental health is a journey, not a destination. I’ve always preferred road trips with friends anyway.
