I can't help thinking of how this series is also dedicated to all the men in this country who lost their lives to suicide, their stories are not just statistics. I was trying to remember why I decided to begin this project and I stumbled across a song titled 'I'm Going Somewhere (But I'm Not Sure Where) by Buí, a Belfast based music project. A line of the song reads 'I'm always dreaming about what's missing.' The men who lost their lives all had their own dreams of what their lives were going to be.
I didn't think the day would ever get here to be honest. The creation of this series has been a long and laborious process. I have to admit I have cried a few times during the process, some of the stories were really hard to listen to. Speaking to my own father about men's mental health was truly special to me, it was uncomfortable, it was sad, but him opening up has made a difference. There have been men in my life who have impacted me more than others, the men I know who struggle with their mental health and still don't, as the song goes 'don't know where they're going'. I kind of lost myself a bit trying to save someone and this series is my way of trying to transform what happened to me into something positive.
This series is not about me however. It is about the men who took the time to sit down and talk to me. Whether their voices shook, whether they laughed to hide how nervous or frightened they were, whether they were recovering from drug addiction, to a young boy bullied in school, to a man who grew up in a generation where mental illness was not spoken about, all of their stories are valid and they're not just statistics that our government throws out. I say to all those men still fighting their own silent battles, 'you are not just a statistic,' your battle is just as important as anyone else's and I hope someday you find the strength to break free from it.
There is a lot to read, a lot of pain and suffering to take in. Take your time, I encourage you to read through ALL of these men's stories. Here is : YOU ARE NOT JUST A STATISTIC:
Mike, 47.
I’m 47 years old. I’m not currently working, I am on a disability allowance, I hope to get back to work. I was addicted to opiates for twenty years in total. I would have been a functioning, secret heroin addict who was in the workplace.
About a year ago, the medical advice I got was ‘keep doing what you’re doing for the next six months and you won’t be around.’ To be honest at the time, I was delighted. I thought, well, I haven’t had the courage to kill myself and I wanted to. To me, this was a get out of jail free card. But there was some sort of survival instinct, that brain that god gave us, whoever gave it to us, your brain fights you. As it turns out I am a year clean as of the 15th of January.
Being open about my experience was frightening, there were huge repercussions for me. Who would hire me? I don’t think I could go to any employer and not let them know of my background.
I began using because I had a sense of adventure. I was mad to try opiates. I had tried all the other types of drugs. I was the kind of guy that would try anything once. Alcohol, ecstasy, LSD, speed, cocaine, cannabis, I’d done them all. The last one was heroin. It was a once a month thing in the beginning, then it became once a fortnight, a weekend thing and before I knew it, it was an everyday thing.
A lot of people use drugs to distract themselves from serious issues they have their lives. It numbs it. What they often don’t realise is it numbs other little things. Cushions it. You might have had a problem with a tooth for ages, or a stomach ache. Then when you stop using, you realise the drugs were masking all the little problems you have and it comes back at you in a flood. Trying to deal with that all at once is like being reborn. Things like even going to the toilet. As an opiate addict, you rarely use the bathroom. So I had to get used to using the toilet every day. You have to assimilate back into society.
I had myself written off years ago. But now I’m thinking, I could be around for another twenty years. I might as well go to college in September. I plan to do something in addiction. I’m hoping it’ll help me understand my own mind and what happened to me.
Don, 39
I work in technical support for my day job and I am in a band called Post Punk Podge and the Technohippies. I also run a club called Hidden Dip. I have worked in the music industry in one way or another for nearly twenty years.
Mental health became an issue for me when I was about fourteen or fifteen. I had a weird experience where I was in my bedroom one night, reading a book and suddenly a mad rush of all these crazy ideas, things I had been thinking since my childhood hit me and suddenly became bad. I feel like my childhood ended right there.
My moods became worse after that. I was put on Prozac which was the fashion in the eighties. That was before they knew it tends to kill teenagers. I ended up in hospital after taking an overdose within two weeks. Then I had to see the hospital psychiatrist who, after speaking me to for just ten minutes, decided I had multiple personality disorder. I gave the diagnosis sheet to my doctor and he said ‘take that home, rip that up and never let anyone see it. I’ve known you since you were born, you do not have that’
So I said, ‘ right, screw doctors, screw psychiatrists, screw medication, I’m going to do without them.’ I’m still here, despite that. I managed to drag myself through living until my early thirties. It came to a point where I couldn’t deal with what my mental health was doing to me. I got myself to a psychiatrist and got a proper diagnosis. I was bipolar but none of the medications were working.
One day I met one of the local doctors in my practice and he recommended Lithium.
I had heard that in the seventies, the formulation of this drug was not used correctly. I was reluctant to try it given my past experiences, but I decided to give it a go. That was six or seven years ago. Now I’m a functioning human being, I’ve managed to hold down a job for the last three years.
Irish men don’t talk about their feelings traditionally. With my male friends, I say to them when they’re drinking too much, ‘you’re clearly feeling like sh*t, what’s actually going on?’ Eventually they do spill it. I think the issue is that they mostly don’t want to bother people.
My advice? Take the medication. It sucks, it’s unpleasant, there’s personality changes, physiological changes. Take it until you can get a bit of perspective on where your life is and can actively start making changes yourself.
Paul, 22
If my story resonates with someone else, shows someone else that another person out there is going through the same thing as them then it’s worth opening up about.
In secondary school I was that child that everyone picked on in the class because I was big. People would deliberately try to start fights with me. By the time the Leaving Cert came around I was in a terrible headspace and the biggest mistake I made was keeping the condition of my mental health to myself. But you don’t want to be a snitch, even if you are being bullied.
Christmas time of Leaving Cert year was the first time I ever self harmed. I wasn’t feeling any emotions at all. Something good would happen, I wouldn’t feel any emotions, same with something negative. The only time I felt something was through self harm and I would cover it up, hide my skin until it healed.
In February 2013, I began contemplating suicide, I was 16. One night I couldn’t sleep, I got up, wrote a note and held on to it. A few days later I had the house to myself, I had my rope, I had my tree ready and I left the note on the kitchen table. Stood on a ledge for half an hour and contemplated whether I was going to do it or not. I decided I was going to do it and it would be all over but for some reason I backed off. I don’t know why I didn’t go ahead with it.
My turning point was just over a year ago. I noticed myself going downhill and checked myself into Pieta House, I worked with them until the suicidal ideation went away. My parents didn’t know about all of this, but a few weeks after Pieta House my mother found my suicide note. I was able to explain to her that I gotten help for myself and it was over.
Since Pieta House I have been down but I have never thought about ending it. It sounds cliche but the one thing I’ll say is please do talk to someone. The first person who actually help me in the University of Limerick was a lecturer, he picked up on the signs in me. He asked to meet me for a coffee and after that he escorted me to counselling on campus.
I’m good for now is all I can say. I don’t think I’ll ever be truly over what I went through, but no two people are the same. The first person you tell makes it easier on you to open up to those who can properly help you.
Steven, 33
I wanted to take part in this series, because I had a difficult year academically and it encouraged me to think about my own anxiety. I took up a media course and turned to blogging. Blogging allows my thoughts and anxiety out, just by typing it out as a release. It has helped me deal with my mental health.
From an early age, being disabled has had some sort of effect on my mental health. I went to a regular primary school, rather going to a ‘special school’ for disabled people. When I was younger I wasn’t aware of my being different to my classmates. As I got older, I began noticing a distance from my classmates due to me being in a wheelchair.
A positive memory from school was during a P.E. class when a teacher decided I wasn’t going to be on the sidelines any more during a hurling match, they said ‘today, you’re going in.’ I played defence, I couldn’t move very well on grass but the fact that the teacher made the gesture of including me meant the world. I feel then that my classmates began to see me in a new light. Instead of focusing on what I couldn’t do, they were focusing on this new thing I was doing, actually getting involved.
I do think there is a black spot around mental health in Ireland. I still see stories on social media of people crying out for more mental health services in this country. Limerick Suicide Watch are constantly going out along the river Shannon patrolling the area. I believe women actively seek out help more so than men.
Music helps me when I feel down. ‘Mr Jones’ by the Counting Crows resonates with me. A song sung by Luke Kelly also means a lot to me. Written by Phil Coulter, it’s about his son who has an intellectual ability. ‘Scorn Not His Simplicity’, it’s called. The lyrics would have you in tears but I can relate so much to it. So music is therapeutic for me.
Abraham, 21.
I didn’t start thinking about mental health in general, specifically my own mental health until college. I will never understand why I thought bottling up my feelings could possibly be beneficial to me in any way.
I grew up in the middle of nowhere in Co Mayo, with my dad. He never encouraged the discussion of my mental health, let alone the idea of mental health. So it was only when I came to university and came into contact with people who were experiencing mental health problems that I realised I wasn’t so dissimilar to them.
It was in college that I fell into my deepest of depressions, it lasted throughout my first year and most of second year. I didn’t know how to express how I felt. It only when a friend called me out on my behaviour, which ranged from staying up for two days in a row without sleep or binge eating that I realized that something was wrong.
I am a queer person, I use he and they pronouns. Queer people are three times more likely to experience mental health problems. Living in Ireland as a queer person is interesting because a lot of the hate that is present is unspoken. People can be quietly homophobic. We have to deal with quite a bit so it’s no surprise that so many of us have mental health problems.
There is a huge lack of access for trans people to hormones in this country. There are only two psychiatrists in the whole country who specialise in gender, so to access hormones you need to go through them. For a person who is seeking transition and living as a gender they are not comfortable with, it can be hugely psychologically damaging to be on a long waiting list for treatment.
I publicly came out to friends and family when I was 16. It was difficult enough growing up as a queer person in Ireland but I am also a person of colour. So I’m getting racism at one end and homophobia at the other, it’s not one that’s an issue, it’s the other. I grew up wishing I could be white. So my depression manifested itself in the form of extreme loneliness because I felt so isolated from my peers. I still often can’t live authentically as my true self.
What really helped me was surrounding myself with a second family so to speak, a group of people who could relate to my experience to some extent. Being around people I didn’t have hide my true self from.You need to hold yourself accountable for your actions. For instance, self care. If you haven’t taken a shower in five days, go take a shower. If you haven’t eaten all day, get something, even if it’s a takeaway. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.
Ronan, 53
I am pleased that you’d take up such a delicate subject because for my generation it is such a delicate thing. When I was growing up, it wasn’t really discussed.
In my field of work, the agricultural field, it has become more difficult for a lot of farmers. The pressure to bring income is there the whole time. If you end up working on your own, which most farmers end up doing for a lot of their time, you can find yourself overwhelmed with paperwork and feel financial pressure. Sometimes it can close in on you. Men find it very hard to speak their mind. Men of my age find it difficult to even go to the doctor for a physical ailment, not to mention a mental ailment.
I am a member of the IFA (Irish Farmers Association), we have a counsellor on site who deals with issues of mental health. At county executive meetings we discuss the pressure people are under, so if anyone comes to us with an issue or a problem we’re there to help them or least direct them in the right direction. We understand that people can become isolated. The IFA is a lobby group number one, but are also there to help anyone with a personal issue. Be it physical, financial, be it mental.
It has been one the highlights of my time involved with the IFA to see that mental health issues are spoken about. Recently we had the doctor in and everyone could sit back and listen. No one was embarrassed, the men involved are encouraged to talk, ask questions and it’s healthy.
I think social media is a good platform to promote positive messages to do with mental health. I don’t think my generation are as affected by negativity online. We don’t use invest as much time into social media sites. I can see how reading negative comments or messages online would affect a vulnerable young person who might be feeling down.
Those who suffer will tell you it’s a constant battle to stay on top of it. But if you know that people are behind you, are not judging you and are there to help you, it can only be a positive thing.
I think one of the most important things to do if you are in a position where you have to deal with someone suffering from mental illness, is make sure you don’t preach to them. If they’re willing to talk to you, you listen. Don’t tell them what to do. Then dissect those negatives that person tells you about, break them down. You try to figure ways to lessen that person’s burden. There is always something that can be done, most problems are solved by sitting down and talking about it.
You can’t judge anyone, because you never know when mental illness could come knocking on your own door. A problem shared, is a problem spared.
Christopher, 22
Men don’t really want to talk about their own experiences with mental health. We have a tendency to bottle it up, especially talking about it on such an open platform where strangers can see our own thoughts. It was a big step for me to get involved. My mental health is not something I bring out into the open. I have always tried to manage my own mental health by myself.
The biggest thing with my mental health I have faced is my anxiety. A large proportion of young people in Ireland suffer from anxiety. In today’s society it’s all about image. You go on Instagram and everyone’s so happy, you’d think that no one has problems. Men are focusing a lot more on their physical appearance than ever before and how they present themselves. We put too much focus on how our physical appearance is perceived. Generally, mental health isn’t discussed and that’s the problem. People present an idealised version of themselves to the world, social media has become a place people evaluate themselves based on external factors.
The mental health budget in Ireland is tiny. More people die from mental health issues than car accidents in this country. We have to tailor solutions individually to people. There are a lot of problems with the HSE, in Kilkenny people can be waiting up to 18 weeks from the point of referral from your GP to seeing psychiatrists.
The more awareness there is, the more chance we will see improvements in Ireland. People are starting to wake up to just how serious an issue it is. Unfortunately, a lot of tragedy has meant mental health has come into the news as its own talking point.
It's time for all men to realise that it's in their interest to open up. Don't be afraid to reach out your hand. Please.
Aidan, 20
Mental health is such a hard topic to explore without it seeming like you’re crying out for help. What you do or say could be interpreted completely wrong. Photography is a powerful way to explore it. You put a face to the story and you become so much more invested in someone’s struggle, their survival.
When I was younger I was quite explosive with my feelings. I was always telling people how sad I felt, but I had to refine that when I came to college. Coming to college was a struggle for me, I felt as though I had to bottle my feelings up a bit more because I didn’t have a close set of friends to turn to.
I am a very visual person, I’d like to explore mental health in an artistic way because it’s important to me that my art would have emotion in it. A lot of my emotion stems from suffering from mental illness.
In mainstream media I think we’re still quite old fashioned in our ways of representing mental illness. I can see it in my male friends, sometimes they show a little bit of emotion, but when you try and encourage them to open up, they close off. If mainstream media continued to put forward the idea that it’s okay, a positive mentality surrounding openness, maybe we would have more people opening up.
I find if a person comes forward and talks about their feelings in a friend group, discussing their experience, the edge is taken off saying those first few words. The other person tends to then feel more comfortable enough to tell me how they’re feeling. I feel if you ask directly it’s harder for someone to say, ‘no I’m not feeling great.’ You have to set up an environment where someone feels safe enough to open up about their mental health.
Lee, 22
I recently began becoming more open with my feelings so doing this photo series seemed like a step in the right direction for me. I go to counselling once a week and surprisingly I actually look forward to it. With the counsellor I’ve been able to talk about things I’ve never been able to talk about before.
I always have felt like a burden, so I never spoke up until recently. My mental health became really bad when I moved away from home and had to become a more independent person. Now my decisions had serious consequences. For example if I went out a lot and spent all my money, I had to deal with it myself. If I was being unhealthy with my eating, I had no one to tell me. In the past I found it very hard to get out of bed in the mornings.
When it comes to my male friends, it’s not something that comes up in conversation. If I look at my male friends, I don’t know if they are suffering. I know that in the past they have, but the signs aren’t there for me. For a lot of people, they want someone else to notice that they are not okay, rather than deciding to speak out and say, ‘oh, I’m not feeling okay’
The first thing I do now when I notice I’m not feeling good is I leave my room and go downstairs to see who’s in the house. I live in a very communal place now. Because of that welcoming environment, I find it easier to step out of my shell a bit more. I think it’s important to be selfish sometimes, to do things that solely make you happy. My housemates are really good to check on me, they’ll come knock on my door and see what I’m doing because they’re aware that I struggle from negative feelings from time to time.
Max, 23
When I was growing up in Co Offaly, there wasn’t an outlet in school to talk about mental health. We just didn’t do it. It was only when I went to university in a bigger place, Dublin, that I began seeing the importance of mental health. I don’t think I was educated on what to do with my feelings while growing up, I just shut myself off emotionally.
The contrast between society in Dublin and Offaly is huge. People are from all sorts of backgrounds so it created an environment where people were encouraged to talk about these things more. Seeing that prompted me to do research into mental health and I realised that this was one of the main reasons for the deaths of young people in the country.
I think openness to mental health discussion among your peers does depend on the type of people you surround yourself with. I’m lucky that I have a really close group of friends, three guys that I would speak to the most. So I would feel comfortable ringing them up and asking for a chat if I’m not feeling great.
Some would still say now it’s not masculine to speak so honestly about your feelings but I think it’s one of the bravest things you could do. We need to stop this mindset that mental health is taboo. A taboo refers to something scandalous, you should never talk about it - but your mental health is with you everyday so we need to normalise conversation about it.
