Let's start this conversation...

I've done Movember in the past and I've always thought that it's a fun way to support men's health. With the focus this year on mental health, as well as prostate cancer, it's a little closer to home on both fronts. It's taken a bit to hit enter on this post and I know it's a few days after the start of the month, but I hope you read on, share this story and maybe donate... it's all for a good cause. You can donate here.

The first reason that I'm doing Movember is for my old man. For those of you that know Peter you'd know that he has a zest for life befitting someone far younger than his 68 years let on. He took up running at the tender age of 50 something after a heart problem and has now completed a dozen marathons and has 100 park runs under his belt. He's the first to help out with any handy work that needs to be done... family gatherings to him are about "getting on the tools" to fix up something in the house. He's done his best as a single dad over the years, but even with the best intentions in life, that bastard cancer finds a way in. He's just been diagnosed with prostate cancer. While he's being stoically English about it, this is my way of showing him support so that others don't have to go on the journey that he's about to.

The second reason is to do with mental health.

Here's my story.

Earlier this year, my wife Amie and I bought little Percy into this world... and what a little legend he's turned out to be. But like the best of plans, this one didn't go exactly as it was supposed to. To cut a long story short, I nearly didn't end up with either of them in the most traumatic of circumstances... but I'm thankful to the surgeons that they managed to pull them both through.

But life with our little family of four (I have a little girl as well) would throw me a curve ball. As our family settled into the swing of things, foreign emotions started to weigh on my shoulders. Everything that happened during the birth started repeating in my mind. I started to get this overwhelming feeling of guilt about not having done more during the birth, I felt hopeless that I couldn't do more. I started analysing every aspect of the birth to find somewhere I could have changed what happened. The truth is there was nothing I could have done... how emasculating, right? I rationalised all these thoughts by saying things like 'you've got this mate', 'toughen up' and 'you have to be strong, you're the man of the house'. Because I'd subscribed to this stereotype I'd sentenced myself already to what would eventuate.

As the months passed and I found myself withdrawn and at rock bottom - that fork in the road if you want where you end up with only a couple of choices - I made the choice to go and talk to someone. This wasn't me and I was sure it wasn't the dad that I wanted to be, the mate that I was known as or the partner that my wife needed.

What I'd learn after talking to a psychologist is that the strongest of people can be affected by the smallest of things; each of us reacts differently to a given situation. For me, I was served up a big meal of PTSD with a side depression and it was wreaking havoc on my confidence, on my sense of self and on those around me. The best thing that I ever could have done is talk to someone about what was going on. I'm getting back to being that Haydn you all know and love... but it's a long road.

People wrongly think that resilience is the ability to be tough. But stretching out that rubber band often causes it to snap. Resilience, moreover, is the ability to successfully adapt to life tasks in the face of highly adverse conditions. It's knowing when that rubber band is about to break, having the ability to own up to it and bounce back.

This is one of the reasons why I'm doing Movember this year... because some guys hit rock bottom and just keep going. They let that rubber band snap.

Click here to make a donation now.