It’s probably the most commonly told lie: “I’m fine.” You can’t ask for help because you’re a real man and all your friends are well. You’ll look weak. So, problems are suppressed, their roots eating deeper into the foundations. The more we suffer, the more those around us suffer. The dip becomes a dive—and, if left unchecked, a spiral. Poor mental health, broken relationships, addiction and unhappiness.
A Vicious Cycle
It didn’t take Freud to tell me where it started; a move from a big town to a village. What followed was at the extreme end of the bullying spectrum: warping, not character building. I buried it, didn’t tell anyone, took it like a man. Afterward, anxiety, sadness and low self-esteem didn’t knock; they poured a coffee, changed the T.V. channel, and raided the biscuit tin. Addiction was already tucked up in bed: At ten-years-old, booze or recreational drugs weren’t on the menu, so I settled on food—refined sugars and saturated-fats being my coping mechanism of choice. Like falling asleep at the wheel on a long stretch of road, miserable cycles hold a destructive and persistent allure. How do you stop them? Is there a way of unpicking yourself from something that has become intrinsic? Anxiety, reliance, sadness, regret; searching for some cathartic relief to alleviate it all, if only for a moment. Making a frank assessment of your life takes bravery, but it may well save it.
Vice seemed like a good place to start: Booze, it’s brilliant, like the cure-all salesman at a Wild West market. “What’s your malady, Sir? Social anxiety? Unhappiness? Convictions of worthlessness? Just drink this. I’ll prescribe an extra-dose; on account of your weight and severity of the condition.” There’s no small-print on a beer glass. Nothing to indicate that you might say everything you shouldn’t, not remember the name of the person you went to bed with or the argument you had. But it’s not your fault. There was nothing you could do, it was the firewater. And the cycle repeats, robbing the brain of serotonin and the body of equilibrium. You know that there are only so many times you can fall over without getting hurt, only so many times you can argue without doing damage. The law of diminishing returns can’t be beaten, and there’s plenty of time to consider this laying hungover in a darkened room.
Relationships: The most addictive substance of them all. Living high on the notion that they alone can save you and fill the void. Moreover, clinging to them, blind to their and your shortcomings, desperate to please, desperate to hold on. Inevitably, those relationships degrade to a toxic mess. Staring at that blurry screen at 3 am, flicking through Tinder and Snapchat—who else is still awake, unhappy and wants to join me? How can you hope to respect someone else when you don’t respect yourself? Negative personality traits pileup quicker than a jack-knifed truck: Insecurity, forwardness, anger, expectation. The ones you love are meant to cure the pain, and the others distract you from it—like it was ever their responsibility. And you drift further from those moral staples; all those things you envisaged you might be are passing from view —if not already gone. But I’m nothing like all those other men reconsidering their lifestyle; I’m a decent guy— aren’t I?
So, you buy the car, wear the jacket, go out, get drunk, watch porn – shockingly, those fleeting moments of catharsis do nothing to heal. Ego, it might look like confidence—perhaps even feel like it—but it is a pale imitation. Like cancer, it duplicates to malign effect. It heralds brashness and arrogance; diversionary flares to draw away anything that might harm.
Breaking the Spiral
Help: Have the bravery to speak to a professional and gain insight—allowing someone into that mess is a terrifying prospect; those dark and barren corners of the mind make you nervous. There is the fear of judgment, of what you might find there, and it easy to put off. All I can guarantee is that it’s not as bad as your perception. Nothing is as crippling as your unguarded thoughts. A therapist opens the doors, lets in the light and helps you tidy. Persistence is critical; it doesn’t happen overnight, and there are setbacks and points where you feel like you’re no further than when you started. Communicate: Speak to family and friends, say you are struggling—silence is deadly. Your issues are magnified until they are released.
Mind: I put mindfulness and meditation in the same category as crystals, star signs and lifestyle bloggers; a pleasant but impotent concept. They are none of those things. They’re challenging, like squatting for the mind. What they offer is a non-judgemental way of observing the stream of consciousness. Some days it flows and others you’re hacking at the green—but that’s alright, because it’s not about changing anything, it’s about accepting what is as it is. And that inadvertently breeds resilience.
Responsibility: It’s tempting to shirk and all too easy to verbally or mentally justify: “I was angry because. I spoke like that because. I acted like that because.” Take a mental eraser and remove because; now it reads: ‘I was angry. I spoke like that. I acted like that.’ If you’ve read this far—and you are anything like I was— your mind will already be throwing up flak: she was cheating on me, our relationship is volatile, that guy started it, I was drunk— that’s not me. How much easier it is to think of ourselves as victims of our environment. The ego will put a fight; it’ll tell you that you’re okay the way you are, that you don’t need to change, that it’s everyone else’s fault. You know otherwise. Responsibility gives you back control.
The body: Every living being has one; they come in all shapes, sizes and work to varying degrees. In essence, a vehicle to transport you through life. One that will inevitably fail—but if serviced and maintained—stands a good chance of delivering a reasonably smooth ride. Like everything, it deserves respect. After years of junk food and booze, I was left with crippling stomach pains and an inability to run or exercise properly. And there are the mental effects of lousy nutrition—poor sleep, impaired cognitive ability, low self-esteem. Food is like any other addiction; it’s so easy to see the obese as weak-minded. It all started with something, and it takes tremendous willpower to overcome. Good food can be delicious. It begins in a field and ends in the kitchen; there isn’t a substitute. At twenty-five, I couldn’t make one dish from scratch, ordered in at least six nights a week and wondered why my wallet got thinner and my stomach wider. Cooking is therapy, and a chance to engage with other cultures; so much of a nation’s character can be experienced through their cuisine. Try it, mess it up, play with recipes, and, when you get good, do it for other people.
Exercise: It doesn’t matter how, where or how much you do – move. That said, group classes offer a chance to interact, connections are forged quickly when facing adversity—any jiu-jitsu or CrossFit class will contain people who have fought their own battles. A forty-five-minute sweat session can turn even the darkest day on its head—and it’s the days you least feel like it that it helps the most.
Service: Committing to things bigger than ourselves – even if it’s just your immediate circle. The term service is general and applicable anywhere. Most effective when used habitually. Doing what you can, when you can. Small, daily acts which will most likely go unnoticed; it doesn’t matter, what’s important is the cumulative effect. Taking the time to listen to the people around you and tuning that intuition: ‘Is something wrong?’ Can be a life-saving question. Making the time to help a friend move or doubling back to lend a hand to a stranger. It’s not about being a Saint; there’ll still be arguments with spouses, moments of road rage and thoughts you’re ashamed of.
What it’s really about is the everyday —the eighty-per-cent—committing to quality relationships with family and friends; taking control and responsibility. Being brave, facing down your demons, and asking the questions: Am I proud? Am I happy?
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