By Alan D.D.
Strange being a Depressed Guy
There’s something that has bothered me for a long while, besides the stigma of dealing with depression. The fact that people tend to look at me as I were strange, being depressed and being a guy.
Society tells us that boys must be strong, must be hard as rock, rude, sport stars and the prince dressed in blue with a white horse. We are expected not to cry, not to suffer, not to feel. They want us to be dead handsome rocks, in short.
I was told since I was a kid that “boys don’t cry” and that “only girls cry”. Every single time I felt bad, I had to hide and smile, as if I was alright, until I became a teenager. I started to deal with depression, self-harming and, eventually, suicidal thoughts. I was about to give up on life, thought I was a failure of a man, I’d be better dead.
Boys suffer too
However, things changed, not because I wanted them to, but because of my friends. All of them started to show their support, told me it was okay if I was broken inside, if I wanted to cry, to scream and felt that I wanted kill someone. They listened, always, to each of the problems I have and made me understand a valuable thing: Boys suffer too.
Nowadays, I hide my pain when I want to. But when I cannot help myself, I let it out, not keeping anything left inside and cry until my eyes are bright red. People cannot tell me, or anyone, how to feel and how to react. I laugh, I cry, I enjoy and I suffer because I am human and I’m alive. There’s nothing wrong with that.
If there’s any boy, guy or man reading this and is faced with the same question I faced before, if it’s okay to cry, know that it is. You have your right to feel bad and let others know just as you let them know when you’re happy. Whoever tells you otherwise doesn’t deserve your attention, at all.
If you don’t want them to know, that’s perfectly fine. I don’t cry in front of everyone, I prefer to be vulnerable with those I trust the most or when I’m alone, when I can write and make something out of my pain: a story, a poem, a drawing, maybe even sing a song I love. But never, ever, let anyone tell you that you cannot be sad and be a boy. Feelings are not determined by your genre, but by your heart.