About four months ago, I experienced a breakdown at my workplace, which led to me being sent home. My role at a Division I athletic program involves organizing summer bridge initiatives for incoming student-athletes, aimed at easing their transition from high school to college life. These programs demand a lot of energy and time, and right after the last one wrapped up, I had to jump into preparations for the fall semester. During that hectic shift, I hit a wall.
I walked into my supervisor’s office and confessed that I couldn’t handle it any longer. I’ve always been the go-to person who says yes to every request. My mindset had always been that hard work was the answer to any challenge. While this approach had served me well in the past, I suddenly realized I had crossed an emotional threshold that I hadn’t recognized before.
My supervisor, a compassionate individual, encouraged me to take the day off. It was clear her intent was to support me, not to reprimand me. When my partner, Sarah, returned home, she found me curled up in bed. I’m the primary earner in our household, while Sarah works part-time at our children’s school. I wouldn’t claim that my stress levels surpass hers; after all, mothers are some of the most hardworking individuals I know. The feats Sarah accomplishes daily never cease to amaze me, and I always aim to support her whenever I can.
Yet, when Sarah entered the room, I felt an overwhelming urge to cry, a rarity for me. I didn’t even shed tears when my father passed away; it wasn’t that I wasn’t grieving, but I simply couldn’t express it. In that moment, I felt an intense weight of failure. I was anxious and depressed, knowing she depended on me, as did our three children. The pressure to fulfill my paternal role felt suffocating, making me feel trapped between responsibilities I couldn’t manage. The thought of facing work the next day seemed as daunting as stepping into a burning building, while the fear of disappointing my loved ones felt like a crushing defeat. I was left curled up on that bed, contemplating the unthinkable.
Sarah noticed my distress and asked if I had lost my job. “No,” I replied, “It’s more complicated than that.” I then asked her to hold me. She climbed in beside me, and we remained there for a while as I gathered my thoughts.
Eventually, I opened up about my work-related stress and the immense expectations I felt were too much to bear. I felt weak and pathetic, questioning why I wasn’t strong enough. As a man and a father, I believed I should be able to juggle my work and family responsibilities. Yet, at that moment, I was uncertain of my capabilities.
We talked about contingency plans in case I did lose my job. I also made a point to visit a therapist, which turned into ongoing sessions and significant lifestyle adjustments. I discovered that approximately 30.6% of men experience depression at some point in their lives, and the suicide rate among men is nearly four times higher than that of women, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. While women may attempt suicide more frequently, men are statistically more likely to succeed.
From my experience, I can honestly say the most challenging aspect of grappling with depression and anxiety is the admission itself. Recognizing the signs of stress, anxiety, and depression can be incredibly difficult, especially when compounded by work and family pressures. Despite the love I have for my wife and children, navigating fatherhood and marriage often presents some of the toughest challenges I’ve faced. I know I can manage it, but there will inevitably be moments of intense stress, and without adequate support, those moments can push even the most dedicated fathers to their limits.
This issue is deeply rooted in the stigma surrounding mental health. The societal expectation to “man up” only intensifies the struggle for those already in pain. While it is vital to normalize mental health discussions across society, it is equally important that fathers feel safe expressing their vulnerabilities and emotions. We still have a long way to go; if we had reached that point, I would have felt much more comfortable seeking help from my wife, my supervisor, or anyone else long before I hit my breaking point.
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In summary, it’s crucial that we foster a culture where fathers can openly discuss their mental health challenges without fear of judgment. By breaking the silence around these important issues, we can create a supportive environment that encourages emotional expression and healthy coping strategies.