“It took me 46 years to open up. How a men’s mental health support group saved my life”

(approx read eight minutes)

Read X’s journey of battling anxiety, depression, alcohol misuse, two divorces, extreme panic attacks and contemplation of ending his life - and the stigma of men’s mental health. Discover how finding a support group like Andy’s Man Club changed his life.

Image by Freepik

I’d hit absolute rock bottom for the third time in my life. 

The pandemic had hit. I was self employed and as soon as the lockdown hit I lost all my work overnight. 

My anxiety was back, my panic attacks were back, my depression was back, my dark thoughts were back. 

Even though I had no work I’d leave the house everyday and pretend I was going to a job. I was too ashamed to tell my girlfriend and felt I needed to do the manly thing and be a provider. 

I’d drive around all day. I’d max out my credit card buying fuel, food and materials so it looked like I was busy.

Mentally things were going south for me, fast.

I knew if I didn’t try to change things that it might get very very dark.

I came clean to my partner about work. That at least felt like a bit of a weight off my shoulders. 

I’d been at the job centre one day and someone had mentioned Andy’s Man Club. 

After a bit more research online I found the nearest session and built up the courage to go along.

I pulled up at the venue in my van, but I couldn’t bring myself to get out. Then one of the volunteers tapped on the window. 

With a big beaming smile he asked if I was here for Andy’s Man Club. Honestly, there’s no way I would have got out of the van if they weren’t there.

I walked into the venue and from that moment on my life started to change for the better.  

Struggling with mental health as a man

In truth I’ve suffered with my mental health for most of my life.

I grew up in a house where it was weak to talk about your feelings. I was told to man up by my dad and brother on many occasions. 

Growing up I internalised all of that and put on a mask, pretending I was okay when I wasn’t.

I got through life until my early 20s functioning, managing, but I wasn’t happy.  

Then one day I woke up feeling anxious and didn’t want to go to work. I felt embarrassed. Weak. 

It took time but I managed to work through it on my own. I never told a soul I was struggling. 

A decade went by. Again I was managing, getting by, but I wasn’t happy. 

I’d risen to a senior position at work, but the pressure felt immense. 

The anxiety was back - but at a level I’d never experienced before. 

Panic attacks in men

I started to experience panic attacks on the train into work. They’d start with tightness in the chest, then I’d overthink the chest pain, fear I was having a heart attack, then hyperventilate and black out. 

Occasionally people would notice I was struggling which might stop me passing out.

It was frightening. Embarrassing. In my mind I couldn’t understand why it was happening to me, I was just on a train into work. 

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I didn’t tell my colleagues because I thought I’d lose my job. I didn’t tell my friends because I thought they’d take the piss out of me. I didn’t tell my mum and dad because I didn’t want to burden them. I didn’t tell my wife either.

I wasn’t in a good place and things weren’t good at home. 

Then my wife left me on New Year’s Eve and my nan died shortly after. 

Honestly, I was fucked, mentally. It felt like my life was on fire, like I was in a room and the walls were closing in on me. 

Things were escalating. 

How men cope with depression alone

I moved out of the family home and got a ‘bachelor’ pad. 

It was a terrible idea. I’d moved away from my family and couldn’t face seeing friends. 

Most of the time I sat on my own in the flat, alone.

Then I turned to drinking heavily on the weekends. Eight, 10, 12 pints, I lost count. I’d drink until I couldn’t feel or remember anything. I look back now and want to give myself a hug. 

The days after drinking were horrendous. Sometimes I couldn’t get out of bed for days. I couldn’t get into work so was signed off with stress for months.

Thoughts of suicide even came into my mind. 

I knew things were as bad as they’d ever been so I went to the doctor. They gave me medication and offered me talking therapy. 

Breaking the stigma around men’s mental health

But because of the stigma for men around therapy I attended a few sessions and then stopped going. I thought it was pointless. In truth I didn’t give it a chance.

I continued to spiral. I became socially anxious. I probably only left the house to get food, and even that was a struggle.

And still I told no one. 

Then I was due back at work. That was a massive ordeal, I was so worried about getting on the train.

I knew I couldn’t simply get on the train that first day back so I went through a period of practising going to work. 

One day I’d go to the station and not buy a ticket. 

The next I’d buy a ticket but not get on the train. 

The next I’d get on the train but get off at the next stop and walk home. 

That process continued for weeks before I got the whole way into London. 

The first time I made it I didn’t go to work, I met a colleague for lunch and went home.

My company was pretty supportive but still things didn’t really improve until my mum called one day. I opened up to her a bit, enough for her to know there was something wrong. 

Following that conversation I decided things needed to change and I moved back in with my parents.

I left retail, took some time out, got an NVQ in painting and decorating and started my own business. 

Things felt great, I put all my energy into it and for the next few years things felt okay. I had anxious moments, days, weeks, months, but got through them. 

And I had my mum who I shared my daily stresses with, although I never told her what was really going on inside my head. 

Then, in 2016, she passed away. She was the only person on earth I’d ever opened up to. 

The mask went back on, the anxiety came back, back to the pub I went. The cycle was back. I was back to that dark place again.  

In 2019 I met my girlfriend and things started to change for the better again. We talked about past relationships - I’d been through two wives at this stage - we talked about anxiety, we found out about each other. 

Men’s mental health during the pandemic

I was on the up and then the pandemic hit. Again, the darkness was back. 

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Support groups for men with depression: What happens at Andy’s Man Club?

Re-enter Andy’s Man Club…

I walk through the door of the venue to find a brew station with tea and biscuits. Weirdly, it didn’t feel overwhelming. 

We sat down and they talked to us about how you didn’t have to talk if you weren’t holding the ball. There was no pressure.

I felt a bit nervous but then guys from all walks of life started sharing their deepest darkest problems. There was emotion, tears, vulnerability. 

I’d never been around that many blokes who talked about their feelings openly.

The pressure went and that first night I did share some of my story. 

I went back the next week, and the week after, and the week after that. 

Overtime I started to feel lighter. Perhaps because at the age of 46 I was truly opening up about what was going on inside my head.

My life started to change. I became more confident. I started sharing my deepest darkest thoughts and feelings. I got closer to my partner. I even had conversations with my dad. I started therapy properly this time. 

Two and a half years later I’m still going every week. I even work for the charity full-time now. 

It has changed my life. It probably saved my life. 

Although I’d never got as far as planning ending my life, I worry about where things would have ended up if I hadn’t got out of the van that day.

Thank god that guy knocked on the window.