The Silent Battle: What It's Like to Deal with MH as a Man
Conducting this interview was hard. Not only because my little cousin, Joemar, was in prison at the time but because I could hear the pure honesty in his voice when he told me his experiences with trauma, pain, and processing emotions.
Joemar talked about his circumstances like they weren't that big of a deal because, well, they weren't for him. But hearing this as a family member, friend, and as someone who's struggled immensely with her own mental health, these anecdotes were difficult to accept as true.
As a girl, it was always "okay" for me to cry if I was physically hurt. And as a woman, it wasn't alarming to anyone when I shed tears over emotional pain.
But for Joemar, life was, and still is, different. As a man, as a black man, expressing hurt, trauma, and sadness aren't openly welcome. There's a distinct (and archaic) standard men are held to regarding vulnerability and expressing painful emotions.
"The thought process is, 'Oh, you're a man. Men can't cry,' and it's a very toxic behavior to learn. And we learn that at a young age, where it's 'not okay' to cry over physical pain. That mindset then carries over to mental pain as we grow up. - Joemar.
Concealing physical pain is somewhat manageable. Ideal? No. But you can cuss it out and walk it off. Concealing emotional pain? That's a separate beast.
Joemar described the way most men handle their mental health like this:
You bottle everything up, shove it in a tight container, and throw it in a dark corner of your mind. Easy. Every once in a while, this bottle rolls back to you, catching your attention. Or, life does what life does and throws more shit situations at you for you to cram into this bottle. After a certain time, ignoring everything is too much, so how do you forget? Cue drugs, alcohol, adrenaline rushes, nightlife, etc.
Distracting your internal demons with people and substances can only last so long. And after some time, you snap. While in prison, Joemar was able to point out countless men who experienced this "snap" after bottling everything for too long.
"[I] used to act out because it was a cry for help lowkey. I held everything in and was so unhappy and frustrated, but I didn't know how to put those feelings into words. - Joemar.
So why is this cycle still prevalent in our society? Why is it so challenging for some men to talk openly about how they're really feeling?
These questions probably have a million answers (and, of course, vary based on the person). However, when I talked with Joemar, the same three themes continued getting mentioned: pride, fear of looking "weak," and blatant unawareness that not talking about things is actually damaging.
Admitting you're wrong or the way you've been doing things may not exactly be healthy is tough. It's embarrassing to be the one that fucked up. It sucks thinking you're in the right and then realizing you're not. But, on the same level, who the fuck cares? Admitting you're wrong shows growth, shows you're learning, shows you're evolving into a more mature, balanced human being (which the world needs more of).
What's the TearDrop? (what's the point?)
During our chat, Joemar admitted that while there has DEF been some improvement regarding men being able to open up, there are undoubtedly stigmas still surrounding the subject. The go-to way of thinking is still "hide the pain. Don't show weakness. Do this alone." And it doesn't need to be that way.
We're all human beings. We all hurt at one point or another, and there's no shame in admitting and accepting that.
"My pain and being vulnerable was something I hid for a long time...It's okay to hurt, rely on people, experience depression. It's okay to want help, and it's okay to need help. - Joemar
As always, I gotta give a quick shoutout and thank you to my featured guest - Joemar Jerks. Talking about these things took courage, and I appreciate you taking a step outside your comfort zone to share a much-needed message with the DPRSD Streetwear audience.
xo,
Mack
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The TearDrop is an integral part of the DPRSD brand; these individuals help create our genuine community of love and empathy. For each story, Mack has an open conversation with the featured guest, elects a creative direction, and creates a narrative she feels best captures that person. The entire process aims to construct something powerful enough to accurately describe the complexity of our mental health. If you want to support DPRSD but our merch isn’t your style (we get it, no worries), we accept monetary contributions.
