In Australia, one in six men will suffer from depression at some point throughout their lifetime. For every one woman that takes her own life, four men do. When it comes to mental health for men, the statistics are worrisome yet crucial to understanding the inner life of men which are blighted by a raft of largely unknown “mental hazards.” It’s not uncommon to hear of men avoiding to see a doctor until it’s almost too late; the same phenomenon unfortunately occurs the realm of mental wellbeing. The Western definition of masculinity emphasizes strength and silence; which means not opening up and discussing problems to find solutions. Often times, depression leads to self-destructive behaviors such as alcohol or substance abuse.
Read the rest in the November 10 edition of the Melbourne City News.
Showing posts with label mens issues. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mens issues. Show all posts
21.6.11
The Doubters are Damned
The first passenger on commercial QANTAS flight on Australian soil was an 84 year old man by the name of Alexander Kennedy. Despite being told by friends and family that air travel was potentially unsafe, he merely told journalists "Damned be the doubters!"
I remember reading that in my history book at high school. I was early to science class one morning and my teacher approached me amid my quiet solitude. He glanced at my book, pompously pinched a leaf between two fingers and remarked derisively: "History, eh? You must have a test coming up."
I replied that I hadn't. He flashed a quizzical look at me. Possibly because my marks in science were decidedly rotten and I ought to have been reading my science book instead. Why on earth would I read history in science class? Didn't I know that history is at best a "hobby?" and left to the academic "experts?" Surely no one could make a living from history!
But now, I remember the words of Kennedy. "Damned be the doubters" could be taken as a roaring Twenties variation on "Haters gonna hate" - those who doubt you will relish in your failure but will agonize over your accomplishments. Though it escaped my purview at the time, I did get quite good marks in the arts and humanities though I'd never take any stock in them. Gaining "A"s for history and politics meant nothing while I almost failed mathematics or science. Time and again my family was encouraging me to take up engineering or IT because there was "better money in it." During one point they even professed that taking up a trade was a more worthwhile endeavor than to attend university and pursue a "ridiculous" dream typing up letters and hoping to be paid for them.
Yet, despite oft-repeated criticism, I still love history. Moreover, I still have enough self-belief to damn the doubters and forge ahead.
Most recently, I came into correspondence with Dr. Herb Goldberg. He is a psychologist and a man whom I'd never have dreamed of talking to without a natural curiosity and a drive to find stories and tell them. Its a validation that a faithfulness to my craft has yielded me much joy despite the hardships I've faced.
I feel that my choices in life have not been ideal insofar my financial well-being is concerned but they have been personally and intellectually satisfying. I wonder now, a day after the completion of my Masters degree if I would reverse the decision to study and merely accept any full time job that came my way; and I wouldn't. I have proved to myself that I can do it. Ultimately, that's all that matters.
I remember reading that in my history book at high school. I was early to science class one morning and my teacher approached me amid my quiet solitude. He glanced at my book, pompously pinched a leaf between two fingers and remarked derisively: "History, eh? You must have a test coming up."
I replied that I hadn't. He flashed a quizzical look at me. Possibly because my marks in science were decidedly rotten and I ought to have been reading my science book instead. Why on earth would I read history in science class? Didn't I know that history is at best a "hobby?" and left to the academic "experts?" Surely no one could make a living from history!
But now, I remember the words of Kennedy. "Damned be the doubters" could be taken as a roaring Twenties variation on "Haters gonna hate" - those who doubt you will relish in your failure but will agonize over your accomplishments. Though it escaped my purview at the time, I did get quite good marks in the arts and humanities though I'd never take any stock in them. Gaining "A"s for history and politics meant nothing while I almost failed mathematics or science. Time and again my family was encouraging me to take up engineering or IT because there was "better money in it." During one point they even professed that taking up a trade was a more worthwhile endeavor than to attend university and pursue a "ridiculous" dream typing up letters and hoping to be paid for them.
Yet, despite oft-repeated criticism, I still love history. Moreover, I still have enough self-belief to damn the doubters and forge ahead.
Most recently, I came into correspondence with Dr. Herb Goldberg. He is a psychologist and a man whom I'd never have dreamed of talking to without a natural curiosity and a drive to find stories and tell them. Its a validation that a faithfulness to my craft has yielded me much joy despite the hardships I've faced.
I feel that my choices in life have not been ideal insofar my financial well-being is concerned but they have been personally and intellectually satisfying. I wonder now, a day after the completion of my Masters degree if I would reverse the decision to study and merely accept any full time job that came my way; and I wouldn't. I have proved to myself that I can do it. Ultimately, that's all that matters.
16.2.11
The Beast That Shouted Love at the Heart of the World
As a child, I kept to myself and I kept everything to myself. For everything I did, there was a lie to cover it up. So accustomed to lying, it rapidly displaced truth. It just became easier that way.
So around this time last year, I resolved thusly: to tell the truth. When I started and continued, I felt relief. I no longer felt a fraud, I no longer felt trapped by my own "bullshit." I was a free man, free from the mental gymnastics required to keep all my lies afloat and free of the guilt of deceiving loved ones and others.
So what happens when I keep things to myself again, I wondered? The past few weeks I've felt flat and frustrated until I explored my feelings within - the causes of which are numerous - and I admitted to myself: I felt angry. Then once the truth was exposed, the anger faded into a feeling of positivity, a feeling of power. Old habits die hard, especially in phases of transition and upheaval.
In this phase of the dating moratorium when I have felt most alone, I have felt an intense want to express my love - sensually and platonically - without an outlet. It's the loving part that feels wounded most of all during the whole integration process of taking one's loneliness and re-framing it as a positive and rewarding solitude.
Throughout childhood and adolescence I found it easier to "not miss anyone" due to a fear of abandonment - but now I am feeling the lack and the sorrow that comes with the foreign concept of "missing" people. I would be lying to say that I do not. A couple of weeks ago, it's possible I could have returned a contrary answer. But now I allow myself to and emerge on the other side as a stronger man.
Thus, the past couple of months have been fueled by a tendency to bullshit myself, yielding varied results. Scarcely a year has passed since the beginning of my personal journey towards manhood and I've learned so much. But twenty-three years of bullshitting oneself is not simply unlearned in less than one. But the challenge is to sustain myself through the bullshit and emerge on the side of truth - and I wouldn't trade it for anything in this world.
So around this time last year, I resolved thusly: to tell the truth. When I started and continued, I felt relief. I no longer felt a fraud, I no longer felt trapped by my own "bullshit." I was a free man, free from the mental gymnastics required to keep all my lies afloat and free of the guilt of deceiving loved ones and others.
So what happens when I keep things to myself again, I wondered? The past few weeks I've felt flat and frustrated until I explored my feelings within - the causes of which are numerous - and I admitted to myself: I felt angry. Then once the truth was exposed, the anger faded into a feeling of positivity, a feeling of power. Old habits die hard, especially in phases of transition and upheaval.
In this phase of the dating moratorium when I have felt most alone, I have felt an intense want to express my love - sensually and platonically - without an outlet. It's the loving part that feels wounded most of all during the whole integration process of taking one's loneliness and re-framing it as a positive and rewarding solitude.
Throughout childhood and adolescence I found it easier to "not miss anyone" due to a fear of abandonment - but now I am feeling the lack and the sorrow that comes with the foreign concept of "missing" people. I would be lying to say that I do not. A couple of weeks ago, it's possible I could have returned a contrary answer. But now I allow myself to and emerge on the other side as a stronger man.
Thus, the past couple of months have been fueled by a tendency to bullshit myself, yielding varied results. Scarcely a year has passed since the beginning of my personal journey towards manhood and I've learned so much. But twenty-three years of bullshitting oneself is not simply unlearned in less than one. But the challenge is to sustain myself through the bullshit and emerge on the side of truth - and I wouldn't trade it for anything in this world.
20.1.11
With Crystal Clarity
"Every moment waited is a moment wasted and each moment wasted degrades your clarity of purpose."
- David Deida
Though the road has been fraught with obstacles and "bumps," the past month has been one of intense pain and likewise, great self-discovery. Yesterday I was contemplating my life goals and as such, wrote them down. In a nutshell, I wrote three: To be happy as a paid writer, to try my hand at professional filmmaking and to be a world traveler and eventually citizen. Suddenly, in the act of acknowledging my own self-purpose, all petty and immediate concerns washed away.
As a man, I feel stronger with a mission in mind and achievements to be made. Setbacks are only that - they may add time and frustration to your journey but eventually they are overcome. To be honest, if your computer dies, a girl you like rejects you or a boss chews you out for arriving late for work and you rank those amongst your worst problems then you haven't really got any real problems and are more than likely "awfulizing."
In the current medium-term, it is to finish my Master's and throughout it save enough money to move out of my parents' house once and for all.
I encourage all men to list their life goals, regardless of age and not to dwell on whether they have accomplished them or not. You don't have to do it right, you just have to do it.
(cross posted at It's A Dude Thing)
5.4.10
Something Better To Do
On Facebook, there are many fan pages dedicated to a variety of subjects and, well, bullshit. Some of them range from pages celebrating rock stars, actors and authors - others are merely novelties and bullshit like "I called Princess Peach a slut when playing Mario Kart" or "Water tastes good when there's nothing else to drink." Some fan pages have even less of a reason to exist than the aforementioned - and these are the pages such as "Women should be in the kitchen" and the countless variations on that theme.
Leaving the humor aspect aside, I find them offensive. Not because I believe them to be degrading to women (which they obviously are on one level) because I find them degrading to men.
In the 2nd decade of the 21st century, the tools for making oneself independent are abundant, especially in the western world. In my profession, I can report from wherever, whenever and however I choose. To posit that me as a man should be mothered from cradle to grave is ludicrous and highly disturbing. Having a servile, submissive wife endlessly cooking food and cleaning up after us would not do us, as men, any favors. We would be reduced to boys, dependent on a woman for all our needs. While spite-filled frustrated men may believe having such a doting lackey that he can stick his penis into would be a dream come true, I would think it was an absolute nightmare.
By eliminating the requirement to fulfill our own needs, it would breed inaction and laziness. Ambition would falter and our masculine power and agency would be eroded. By subordinating our basic needs to a woman, we put ourselves in a position of dependence. While on a superficial level it would seem that the man dominates the woman in this situation, on a deeper, psychological and emotional level, the man gives up his masculinity in the process. If a man wants to truly exercise his masculine power he would see the complimentary nature of the sexes in a healthy way instead of a maladaptive child-parent dynamic. Its like men saying to women "I am helpless, please take care of me as if I were a baby."
I'll make my own fucking sandwich, thank you very much.
Leaving the humor aspect aside, I find them offensive. Not because I believe them to be degrading to women (which they obviously are on one level) because I find them degrading to men.
In the 2nd decade of the 21st century, the tools for making oneself independent are abundant, especially in the western world. In my profession, I can report from wherever, whenever and however I choose. To posit that me as a man should be mothered from cradle to grave is ludicrous and highly disturbing. Having a servile, submissive wife endlessly cooking food and cleaning up after us would not do us, as men, any favors. We would be reduced to boys, dependent on a woman for all our needs. While spite-filled frustrated men may believe having such a doting lackey that he can stick his penis into would be a dream come true, I would think it was an absolute nightmare.
By eliminating the requirement to fulfill our own needs, it would breed inaction and laziness. Ambition would falter and our masculine power and agency would be eroded. By subordinating our basic needs to a woman, we put ourselves in a position of dependence. While on a superficial level it would seem that the man dominates the woman in this situation, on a deeper, psychological and emotional level, the man gives up his masculinity in the process. If a man wants to truly exercise his masculine power he would see the complimentary nature of the sexes in a healthy way instead of a maladaptive child-parent dynamic. Its like men saying to women "I am helpless, please take care of me as if I were a baby."
I'll make my own fucking sandwich, thank you very much.
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