This nearly took my life (But I'm still here)

Hey guys,

First off, Happy Father's Day to all the Fathers celebrating today, and to the Fathers celebrating up above!

Also, it’s worth noting how fitting it is that Father's Day lands in June, which happens to be Men's Mental Health Month. Now, I don't know if that was done on purpose. I mean, it probably was, but I certainly wasn't consulted on the dates of either one! But that’s neither here nor there..

Maybe you’ve noticed but, it’s only been in recent years that discussions around men’s mental health have started to open up more. Whether it’s the stigma we feel when trying to be vulnerable, the pressure to “pull ourselves up by the bootstraps,” or the belief that no one will care about our problems - it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that more men are starting to talk.

And when I say that, I don’t mean men should sit around and complain about how life isn’t fair... That won’t help anyone.

What I do mean is that men should feel safe and supported enough to talk to friends, family, or professionals before things spiral out of control.

I know from personal experience, it always felt like no one was there for me. Whether that was true or not didn’t matter. I went through the hardest times in my life alone, and that became my default setting. To revert within and suffer in silence. I’d drown out the pain with substances or put on a mask to pretend like nothing was wrong. But the second I was alone, the voices crept back in. They screamed in my ears. Negative. Loud. Constant.

It was hell.

And it wasn’t until the points where I nearly lost everything that I even considered opening up.

I let it get so bad that I attempted to take my own life on multiple occasions. Luckily, perhaps ironically, those were some of my life’s greatest failures. They taught me lessons that nothing else could. But they also caused pain to the people I deeply cared for. And when I finally found clarity on the other side, the main realization I gained was simple: I want to live.

I want to make something out of this life.
I want to see my nephews grow up.
I want to travel the world further.
I want to experience more love.
I want to be a father one day.

And if those pills had worked, or if I’d managed to flip the car on the highway before breaking down in tears all those years ago, I would never have the chance to do any of it.

But here I am. And I carry that clarity with me to this day.

Things still get hard. Some days are worse than others. But my baseline has risen to the point that suicide isn’t even a passing thought anymore. And because I’ve been open about my struggles and my sobriety, many people have reached out to me over the years.

One friend asked how I can be so open about my struggles. His partner had just left him and was in a very dark place. He was dealing with depression but couldn’t find the courage to speak up. I told him: “You asking me about it is the first step.” That opened a conversation, and I’m proud to say he made it through.

Another friend I’ve talked off the ledge multiple times over the past 10+ years. He knows I’ll always be there - and I know he would do the same for me.

A third friend reached out just a couple weeks ago. He told me he was drinking and driving one night, completely lost within his own life. He kept drinking. Kept driving. Fortunately, he made it home safely. No one was hurt. But it shook him. It was a wake-up call. And thankfully, he’s taking it seriously and trying his best to make positive changes.

These aren’t “bums,” or “addicts,” or “loners.” These are people you know. They’re your coworkers, your neighbors, your friends. They’re fathers, uncles, brothers, and sons. And they deserve support.

And that support can be as simple as listening to their struggles. That’s all I really did for the friends mentioned above: I listened.

I didn’t pass judgement, or dismiss their struggles. We simply shared a conversation. Because I know when you get to those incredibly low points, it takes a lot of humility and a hell of a lot of courage to ask for a helping hand.

So all I ask of you today: express gratitude for the men in your life before they reach that point. 

Your father, husband, brother, son… Whoever you think of when you read that last sentence, express your appreciation for having them be a part of your life. Even if they seem like they’ve got it all together because some - not all, but some - may be suffering in silence.

And if you’re one of those men, please hear me when I say this:

I do not have all the answers.
But I’ve walked through hell.
I’m toasty, but still walking.
And I will always listen if you need someone.

Take care of yourselves. You are not alone.

Until next time,

Your friend from the wilderness,

Michael “Writing What I Once Couldn’t Say“ Mitchell