8 November 2020

It’s no secret that New Zealand has an issue with mental illness. Especially amongst men, reflected by a disproportionately high suicide rate. We all know this isn’t good, and that something needs to be done. But what?

Relentless Perserverance by George Taylor
Mental Health | Real Stories
8 MIN READ
It’s no secret that New Zealand has an issue with mental illness. Especially amongst men, reflected by a disproportionately high suicide rate. We all know this isn’t good, and that something needs to be done. But what?
 
Currently, there's a lot of encouragement for men to open up and share their struggles with others. However, this encouragement doesn’t really go beneath the surface. It’s recognised that men feel uncomfortable in talking about their struggles. But what isn’t recognised is why they feel uncomfortable, and how exactly we can get around this.
 
In order for men to actively and permanently overcome their reservations associated with revealing a mental illness to themselves and others, they need the tools to do so. In this case, the tool is information—the reason behind why they must open up.
 
I’m going to outline a commonly held perception of mental illness, and vulnerability in general, that men hold. Then, I’ll explain how we can move around this, and do so in a way that gives men who are suffering from mental illness a real reason to open up.
 
A good place to start is recognising the fact that we, as humans, aren’t nearly as in control of our emotions as we’d like to think we are. We can conduct ourselves in ways which allows us to feel certain emotions, but we can’t simply choose to feel how we want to feel.

A good place to start is recognising the fact that we, as humans, aren’t nearly as in control of our emotions as we’d like to think we are. We can conduct ourselves in ways which allows us to feel certain emotions, but we can’t simply choose to feel how we want to feel.

 
From a very simplified perspective, this is because our central nervous system reacts instantaneously to our surroundings. This reaction is communicated through our nervous system, and into our brain, which generates certain chemicals in response. These chemicals allow us to feel certain emotions.
 
For example, if we’re in unknown territory, whether this be physically or psychologically, our brain will generate anxiety inducing chemicals as an alert that perhaps something isn’t right, and we should find known (safe) ground. So, in essence, how we feel is controlled by a very automatic and unconscious process.
 
This system was developed from some of the first beings on earth—a lobster’s central nervous system, for example, is almost identical to our own. So, in order to explain how men perceive and react to mental illness, I’ll turn to the evolutionary reaction towards vulnerability that has been carried through history.
 
In today’s world of convenience, it’s easy to forget that history is a story of suffering and tragedy. An alarmingly high infant mortality rate, comparably early death, little-to-no medicine, and extremely poor living conditions were but some of the realities of life only a few generations ago. And as we go back in time, it only gets worse. In response, men and women partnered together to do their best in an attempt to simply survive. They both had a very difficult time all round, in different ways.
 
Men had to fight in wars and kill other innocent men for reasons they didn’t understand. They had to provide for their families in times not like ours—where resources and opportunities were scarce. Most men couldn’t risk quitting their job because they didn’t like it, or starting up a new business, as there was no supportive governmental framework to fall back on should the risk not pay off. You had to either consistently provide or risk falling off the edge completely, and taking your dependents with you.
 
Overall, the picture is one of a ‘do or die’ environment. One which required relentless perseverance. We forget this sometimes. We forget the true extent of our ancestors’ suffering, and the genuine struggle they went through simply to survive. This isn’t good. When we forget what has happened in the past, we cannot see the influence the past has had on the present. Such as the behaviors, including the negative ones, that we’ve carried through the generations. So, let’s consider these. Specifically, let’s consider relentless perseverance, and how exactly it relates to mens’ perception towards mental illness.
 
Vulnerability was seen as the ultimate threat back then. Under those harsh and unforgiving conditions, if you had a weakness it would be found out one way or another. So, especially in those tougher times, it was a lot easier for someone to suppress their emotions, turn a blind eye to their vulnerabilities and relentlessly persevere. Why? Because the alternative to that is the recognition of the fact that you are vulnerable and therefore you are in danger—a scary realisation.
 
This emotional reaction of relentless perseverance isn’t a creation of mankind. It was developed out of necessity during the process of evolution, and we see it all throughout the animal kingdom. For example, pack animals, such as our close relatives the chimpanzees, have developed an instinct to hide any injury they have.
 
In the wild, an injury comes with two significant risks. Firstly, you’re at risk of attack. You’re an obvious target for both competitors within your group and predators outside of it. So, there’s a deep instinct to protect your social standing within your group, and the group itself, by covering up any weakness. Secondly, your group may ostracise you. If you lag behind and slow the group down, you will be left behind.
 
Humans have inherited this response, which can be summarised as the instinct of status preservation, and employs the mentality of relentless perseverance—do your best to pretend that nothing’s wrong, so it appears that you’re in control of the situation.
 
However, this pretend-everything-is-okay approach only ‘works’ if the injury or illness can remedy itself whilst you’re covering it up. With regards to mental illness, this is where this approach falls down.

However, this pretend-everything-is-okay approach only ‘works’ if the injury or illness can remedy itself whilst you’re covering it up. With regards to mental illness, this is where this approach falls down.

 
Certain events or triggers will set off very predictable and anticipated mental illness symptoms. Therefore, the basic strategy of recovery is figuring what exactly is causing your feelings of, for example, depression or anxiety, and then acting to restrict those causes from reoccurring. Significantly, this process necessitates a conscious acknowledgment and acceptance of the mental illness.
 
The notion that you can simply pretend your illness does not exist and at the same time recover, does not resonate well with this reality. In fact, the former is the antithesis of the latter. So, the instinctive reaction to relentlessly persevere through a mental illness will largely restrict recovery, and perhaps even make matters worse.
 
We know this, but the issue still remains that men have an instinctive emotional aversion to recognising the existence of a mental illness, out of fear that this recognition will damage their social status. The tricky part is that there is some truth to this. For example, all else held constant, a depressed or anxious person is a less attractive partner than someone without those illnesses. So, how can we shift away from this perception?
 
Well, it is more damaging to be willfully blind to your illness than it is to accept its presence, and then act on it. With regards to the former, there’s nothing productive in the long-term about suppressing your emotions and continuing on as if nothing’s wrong. In fact, that’s the ultimate weakness. You’re hiding from yourself, and perhaps others, in the hope that your troubles will simply disappear if you leave them alone for a while—but they won’t.
 
So, you must make a decision. Do I try and suppress my emotions, and soldier on as if nothing’s wrong? Or do I confront my issue, and make the first step towards recovery? That is, the recognition and acceptance of your vulnerability.

So, you must make a decision. Do I try and suppress my emotions, and soldier on as if nothing’s wrong? Or do I confront my issue, and make the first step towards recovery? That is, the recognition and acceptance of your vulnerability.

 
The latter is the correct option, but it’s the most difficult. You’re admitting to yourself that you’re not who you want to be. You’re damaged in a sense, and you don’t want that. It’s this realisation that many people fear. They’re afraid of what may lie within if they were to take a closer look. So, they don’t. They don’t look inward, and so they stay the same.
 
However, fear of the unknown is not a good excuse for inaction. Formidable obstacles are not navigated with a definitive end in sight. They’re navigated with strength, courage and voluntary action. Although you may have to sacrifice the comfort of today by recognising your vulnerabilities, you’ll gain a future in return.
 
Despite there being no instinctive implication of this knowledge, no instinct to reach out, or to be vulnerable, it’s an action that we need to encourage and instill in men. They need to know that true strength lies in the recognition and acceptance of vulnerability, and true courage lies beneath a decision to face it.
 
In essence, we need to educate men on this reality. They must be given this rationale behind the necessity of opening up, to allow them to move away from their instinctive reaction of relentless perseverance. We need to teach them that opening up isn’t weak—but a display of genuine strength and a prerequisite for recovery.