When my daughter was born 17 years ago, she got a fever. The nurses were very nice when they told my wife and I that we would have to stay a few extra days. They didn’t say that this was abnormal or that there was really something to worry about.
But as a first-time father, that’s not what I thought. It’s not what I felt. My one job that I had in this world was to protect my children, and already I couldn’t. I had failed as a father before I even started. And for the first time in my life, I had true anxiety. The deep in the pit of the stomach and forearms tingling type of anxiety that would become a part of me as a parent. Before this moment, I had never experienced this before.
My anxiety comes from a lack of perceived control; an impossible thing to have in life. But as a man, this is not what I had always been told. I learned that the world was what I made of it. It was burned into my head that it was my responsibility. What? All of it. The world. My life. My family. Be a leader and take control. Because that is what manly men do.
In my youth, especially in my late teen years and early 20s, I took my failures personally. If I lost a high school football game, it was because I didn’t work hard enough. In college, if I failed a test, it was because I needed to study more. And at work, I needed to be more assertive. It gave me the illusion of control and a way to keep anxiety at bay.
At the age of 31, I learned that I truly never had control. Children have a way of making the imaginary disappear to show the reality of the world. And the truth of that moment, as our hospital stay got to the 6th day, is that I didn’t have control of anything. That’s the day I knew what true anxiety was like.
Movember—A time to support men’s mental health.
This month, you’ll see a lot of guys growing glorious mustaches as a way to support Movember, one of the nation’s leading men’s mental health advocates. It’s a great organization with a worthy cause and one we need to celebrate. It’s one that I wished I knew about more in the beginning.
I hid my anxiety for 10 years, even from my wife. I couldn’t let them see what it was really like in my head. That’s not dad. Dad is supposed to be strong. Nothing bothers dad at all. He always has the answers and never worries.
I know that’s not true at all. Some days were tougher than most, especially in the winter. The dark days led to dark thoughts. As an at-home dad, I worried about my kids. I worried about money. I worried about my wife’s job. I would sit and listen to my wife tell me if something was going wrong, and I would put on a happy face. An unconcerned face. I wore the expression of one who is used to being in control but also knowing that I couldn’t control anything. Those two parts fought against each other. And when everyone went to bed, I would lay awake trying to reason my way out of my anxiety.
It never worked.
Like most men, I thought I could handle this myself. I didn’t want to burden my family. The idea of telling my wife seemed…unmanly. Telling someone, even someone I trusted more than anything, my inner struggles was a sin. So I tried to tough it out. God, that was such a bad decision.
Go beyond normal conversations.
This November don’t tough it out. Realize that what we’ve been told as men when it comes to our mental health is a lie. There is no glory to be had suffering alone in our own heads.
Years ago, I interviewed someone from Movember, and what he told me has stuck with me ever since.
We need to go beyond surface-level conversations. When we ask a friend how they are doing, we need to mean it. We need to ask follow-up questions to get past the pleasantries. And when that trusted friend asks us that question, we need to be honest.
For me, my wife could tell something was off and had been for a long time. She could see me getting short-tempered with the kids, or pacing. Other times, I would be critical of myself for falling back into the old habit that if there was a failure, it was at my doorstep. It didn’t matter whose failure it was. It was something that I was supposed to take the blame for. And when I couldn’t fix the problem? It would eat at me. Eventually, my wife asked me how I was doing and wouldn’t let me brush off the question. Through her, a weight was lifted from my chest, and it felt like I could finally breathe.
I’m lucky to have a lot of close friends around me. Guys that would rescue me from the deepest pit of hell without a second thought. And now when they ask me how I’m doing, I answer honestly. I unpack the world of uncontrolled parenting, and when I do that, I become a better father. They help carry my load, and for that I am thankful.
This Thanksgiving, ask those around you how they are doing. Take the men in your life aside and let them know that you really want to know. Listen. Give them the chance to let go of all that control bit by bit. Help them carry the difficulties of life.
And grow your stache for Movember.
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