Growing Up is Hard

Growing up is hard and navigating the transition from university to the professional world can be an exhilarating yet daunting journey for many young adults. As the structure of university life gives way to the uncertainties of full-time work, it's common for people to encounter various challenges, including those related to mental health. Personally, it was during this pivotal phase of my life that I came face to face with the realisation that my anxiety was not something I could simply brush aside any longer as it was effectively stopping me from living the life I want to live. This realisation marked the beginning of a transformative journey toward understanding, acceptance, and clarity.

In this blog, I aim to share my experiences of struggles that can arise during the transition from university to adulthood, with the hope of encouraging others to speak out if they’ve faced similar issues.

Transitioning from student life to a professional career is challenging under normal circumstances, but the COVID-19 pandemic made it even more difficult for many, including myself. The sudden shift from the camaraderie and freedom of university life to the isolation of returning home felt like a real loss of independence and social connection. However, I think it was the second lockdown though that really marked the beginning of what would become probably the lowest and most difficult period of my life.

Unsure of what to do with myself, I ended up doing what some might call a "panic Master’s." It gave me a much-needed sense of purpose and direction during a time filled with uncertainty. Although, while some of my friends continued their studies on campus, my course was entirely online. As an introvert, I thought I’d handle the situation a lot better, but the lack of in-person interactions with the people I cared about hit me harder than I expected (it turns out that even introverts need to see other humans occasionally). I felt lonely and disconnected, stuck at home while my friends were out making memories I could only see through the lens of social media. It was as if I were stranded on a life raft, watching everyone else on the shore, no matter how desperately I tried to paddle closer. The feeling of missing out became overwhelming, and the distance felt impossible to bridge.

Over time, these feelings of isolation and emptiness grew, and each day seemed monotonous and draining, trapped in a seemingly endless routine. It felt as though there was no escape, and I foolishly believed that only the passing of time and the lifting of lockdown restrictions could release me from this mental space. Consequently, I chose to keep my struggles to myself, convinced that sharing them would burden others unnecessarily, particularly my parents. In my mind, the only solution lay in the easing of lockdown measures, so I silently waited for that day to arrive.

Eventually, after several months, lockdown restrictions eased up, and I naively believed my problems would vanish, and for a short while they did. However, upon graduating, the harsh reality of job hunting hit me hard. We all know how fruitless and energy sapping job hunting can be, and for me it was no different. I spent so much time on applications that it ironically felt like a job, but despite countless attempts, I faced rejection after rejection. With each rejection, my self-doubt escalated, and I began questioning my worth, wondering what was wrong with me. I felt like a failure, burdened by the weight of disappointing my parents, who had done so much to support me.

As if the constant rejections weren't enough, social media again amplified my sense of inadequacy. Seeing friends and peers succeed, landing their dream jobs and progressing in their lives, served as a constant reminder of my perceived failures and shortcomings. It appeared that everyone else had life figured out while I remained stuck in the mud. My mental health reached an all-time low, yet I chose to bear the burden alone, believing that sharing my struggles would only cause more worry and stress for those closest to me.

It was also during this period that my long-standing anxiety problem became painfully evident. My parents, seeing my struggle to find work, attempted to help me by connecting me with people who he thought could help. However, my anxiety, which I had never disclosed to them, or really never had accepted myself, caused me to fear judgment and embarrassment. I turned down their help without explanation, avoiding opportunities that could have helped me. I could see they were hurt by this, and it made me feel guilty and ungrateful. But I just couldn’t be honest and open, explaining what I had been dealing with.

As time passed, my parents sensed that something was wrong, even without my verbal admission. They repeatedly asked about my well-being, but I brushed off their concerns with the classic "yeah, I'm fine" response which is synonymous with most people my age. However, it got to a point where it was quite obvious that I was struggling mentally. Finally, they sat me down for a long overdue and much needed conversation, urging me to honestly express how I was feeling.

Looking back, I just remember feeling an overwhelming sense of fear. Questions like “what are they going to think?”, “what are they going to say?” and “do I really have to do this?” raced through my mind at the time. I hadn’t really done anything like this before and I was scared, scared of the outcome, scared of the unknown.

I hesitated for what felt like an eternity, it felt like there was this immeasurable force that was doing everything it could to keep me silent. It was almost as if there was a battle going on inside my head where the winner would get to dictate where my life would go from there. On one side was the overwhelming fear of being judged, and on the other, a desperate need for relief. Finally, though, I managed to force the words out: I had an anxiety problem, and I had been struggling for months following graduation

The words hung in the air for a brief second an at that point the cat was out of the bag. In all honesty, I was terrified of what was going to happen next. But at the same time the relief I felt after was profound.

My parents immediately provided unconditional understanding and support. It was at that moment I realised that bottling up my emotions had only increased their worry, and my silence had inadvertently hurt them. I just remember thinking “what was I afraid so of?”, they’re my parents of course they’d understand. I had bottled all this stuff up to make them not worry as I thought I was protecting them, but actually they could always tell something was wrong, and me not saying anything was just making them worry even more. I wish I knew that back then.

With their support, I took the important step of seeking therapy to confront my anxiety head-on. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it turned out to be a transformative one. Therapy opened my eyes to new ways of understanding and managing the situations that triggered my anxiety. Gradually, I shifted my focus from the exhausting cycle of comparing myself to others to a healthier mindset centred on self-improvement. For the first time in a long time, I started prioritising what I truly wanted to do, rather than what I thought I should be doing.

On reflection, I recognise the missed opportunities to reach out and communicate my struggles earlier. Whether due to societal conditioning or personal beliefs, many people, including myself, tend to bottle up their concerns and suffer in silence. It is crucial to understand that struggling, suffering, and not being okay are all valid experiences, and they do not require us to face them alone. Speaking up and confiding in someone, whether it be a family member, friend, or professional, is a necessary step towards resolution.

I'm not sure if my actions stemmed from what's commonly known as 'toxic masculinity' because it's something I've never consciously considered. But perhaps that's the point. As men especially, we're often shaped by certain expectations growing up, to the extent that we don't even realise it. That’s what makes it scary—you genuinely believe you're doing the right thing, but in reality, you aren’t.

So yeah, growing up is hard, but reaching out for support can make the journey a lot more manageable.

Today, I find myself in a much better place, both mentally and emotionally. If I could change one thing about the past, it would be to speak up and seek help sooner. The stigma surrounding men's mental health often leads us to believe that showing vulnerability is a sign of weakness. However, my experience has shown me that it takes great strength to acknowledge our struggles and ask for help.