What's it like getting mental health support as a dad?

The last few years has seen a lot more talk about mental health for parents. Maternal mental health is still thoroughly front and centre in that conversation, but if you know where to look there are some great resources for partners and non-birth parents too.

When it comes to fathers specifically, there are a range of mental health support organisations are working to help men through the transition to parenthood and its ongoing ups and downs. Stigma remains about accessing it though, and if we are going to address the wellbeing of the whole family, this needs to be addressed.

In an effort to reduce this stigma, I asked some fathers about their experience accessing mental health support. I asked them to consider: What was it that made them decide to get help? Where did they start in accessing mental health support? What was it like that first appointment, and did the experience change over time? What have they learnt from accessing support, and do they have any advice for other men considering accessing mental health support?

Four brave dads shared their stories with me, and in turn I am passing them on to you, with permission. Even in writing that last sentence, I was hung up on whether to include the word “brave” - it is my hope that one day seeking mental health support is seen as normal, and will no longer be something you need to be “brave” to do. In the shorter term though, we hope that this collection of stories reaches those who need to read it. If even one person gets takes the tiniest step in seeking the support they need after reading, our project will have been a success.

Thank you for reading.

Ashton’s story

I first decided to start to look at getting professional help throughout the COVID lockdowns. Without a clear break between work and home I found myself lacking any real motivation to do either. My work output wasn’t great, and I was disconnected from family. 

An all round heightened anxiety about how I was perceived as both a dad and a partner eventually pushed me to reach out for help. I first bought it up with my GP who then set up some time with a therapist. I won’t lie, I had to ask my wife to make the initial appointment with my GP as I knew I would put it off. 

It was strange at first. I kept thinking that the therapist had more important things to do. I wasn’t suicidal, I wasn’t harming anyone, I was just a bit grumpy sometimes and was in a bit of a rut. The more we spoke the more it was clear that I did have a mental illness and that there were treatments available. It took a few sessions to build a rapport and see the value that came from speaking to a professional but I’m glad I persevered. 

The biggest learning I got from therapy which translated into my relationship was the importance of communication. After speaking with what was really a stranger about things that I’d not told anyone before, I questioned why I wasn’t having those conversations with my wife. Holding thoughts and feelings in was often the catalyst for my distant behaviour so taking that learning into our relationship has been a huge benefit. 

Outside of that is just presence with our kids. Making sure I take time to just be with them and devote all my attention to that time. Sometimes it’s a 60 minute game of Uno, or playing some strange game of cats and dogs at school for 15 minutes - whatever it is, I’m all in during that time. Being strict around work hours and switching off from work to home has been key in that. 

The first piece of advice would be to take the help that’s on offer. Government programs are there to help financially and there is no stigma attached to asking your GP about what services are on offer. If you’re lucky enough to have an Employee Assistance Program at work offering counselling services, use that too. It may take time to find the right person so there’s no harm in trying multiple approaches.

The second piece of advice is don’t try to be a hero and treat yourself. I would go on research spirals and read everything related to the feelings that I was experiencing and thought I could diagnose and solve my issues myself, which was not the case at all. While it’s good to have the background, it’s not going to be something that you can “fix” yourself by life hacks or soldiering on. It wasn’t until I put myself in the hands of a professional that I started seeing improvements.

Michael’s story

I realised I needed help when I kept running into the same problems over and over—relationship struggles, sleepless nights, constant anger, overthinking, and overreacting. After our first daughter was born, my wife and I decided to see the same therapist, together and separately. At first, it was really uncomfortable. I’d be sweating through the sessions, feeling like I was in fight-or-flight mode. But as time went on, it got easier to open up, and eventually, I was just spilling everything out. 

Therapy has helped me learn to sit with sadness instead of covering it with anger, and it’s really changed how I see the way I was parented. But even with the progress I’ve made, I know I still have a long way to go. I’ve learned that progress isn’t a straight line—sometimes I’d leave a session feeling like my brain had melted and I’d actually feel worse for a few days. But once that feeling passed, I realised I was slowly changing how I navigate and react to the world.

Dan’s story

My one and only reason for pursuing the means to get better, was it knowingly began affecting those closest to me. My OCD and anxiety was getting to a put I couldn’t control it or identify how much it was even hurting myself. But most importantly, I was becoming tired, less present and couldn’t remain present in those empathy valuable moments.

I accessed therapy through my partner’s GP. They were able to provide me with a mental health care plan and referred me to a handful of therapists close by. It took me a very long time before I started to feel I was getting value out of therapy - nearly five years and three different therapists. I hated going. I felt guilty, embarrassed and weak that I had let myself get to this point and wasn’t able to fight it off. To this day I still have to fight those feelings, but I remind myself that this is for my wife and my daughter. 

One of the lowest points for me was actually straight after our daughter was born. I was trying to be strong, to hold it together during a really tough pregnancy. I thought it would all be over after the birth but instead of feeling relief or joy I felt even worse. I went through a huge range of emotions in a very short period of time. First I was scared and then in some kind of grieving process - I thought the old me was dead and gone, that my life would be all responsibility and no fun forever. In hindsight I didn’t understand that the fun would come back as I got better and as our baby got older. I was also terrified, I couldn’t see just how ready I was to evolve into the person I needed to be as a husband and a dad. Of course I felt an incredible amount of shame and guilt that I was feeling this way too.

The most valuable teaching I have taken from my therapy has been being able to identify my declines before they occur, and having the courage and trust to communicate this to my wife, knowing she will be there to help me. 

My advice to other men is to get ahead of it before it becomes too steep a cliff to scale. I think as men we naturally feel shame or weakness in this area. And I admit I have never been able to shed this feeling, even now after 10 years of therapy. But you are doing this for those closest to you, and so you can lead a more fulfilled and engaged life. See the strength in asking for help. 

A final story, shared anonymously

One night I thought I was having a heart attack and ended up passing out. After an ambulance trip and a day of tests and monitoring in the hospital, I was discharged with a clean bill of health. On the drive home, my wife suggested I might’ve had an anxiety episode. I brushed the idea off, until we started going over a history of other episodes including breathing difficulties, elevated heart rates and dizziness. What I thought were physical health episodes that led me to feel anxious were actually the complete opposite: anxiety was making the physical episodes manifest. 

12 years earlier I had been with a friend when he died of an asthma attack and had never really debriefed with anyone about that night. I suspected that this, and now being responsible for a child, was making my anxiety bubble along under the surface. I headed to a GP and explained a few of the episodes and asked for a mental health care plan. The GP gave me a referral for six or eight psychology appointments, which were partially covered by Medicare.

I lucked out and felt pretty comfortable speaking to the counsellor from the start, though I generally do find it easier to open up to strangers. They also had me complete a questionnaire a few weeks prior to the appointment, so I wasn’t going in cold. Amongst a few other topics, I spoke about the night of my mate’s asthma attack, as well as growing up with a parent with untreated bipolar disorder and the childhood experiences that stemmed from that. I felt pretty drained after the first couple of sessions, but after that I didn’t find it too tiring and could plan other things afterwards. 

After a few visits, and with the psychologist having a good grasp on my experience and practicing some easy calming techniques, I began a run of EMDR therapy (not as weird as it sounds). The purpose of the EMDR was to help my brain process some old memories that were always lingering in my mind and feeding my anxiety, albeit subconsciously. The psychologist explained the technique using the analogy of a computer. Instead of having a whole lot of documents open in the background or cluttering up the desktop, the EMDR would store them in an appropriate file so they no longer took up RAM space. The memories wouldn’t disappear forever, but they wouldn’t be interfering with the computer’s day to day function anymore. There are a few ways to do EMDR, but the process we used was simple - holding onto some buzzing handpieces (which simulated REM sleep) while talking through the worst parts of that night. Hey presto, it seems to have done a pretty good job.

Since seeking help I have stopped spiralling down the path of health-related anxiety when the kids or myself are unwell. I even got a new job involving remote work far away from the nearest medical help- a big hurdle for me at the beginning. Addressing the anxiety has lead me to much better quality sleep, which rolls on to almost all aspects of life and being able to navigate pressure situations. Talking through things with the psychologist also helped me to lower the barrier I’d put up between family and friends, helping me to articulate my anxieties to them, allowing them to understand my anxieties, and allow them to help.

If you think you’d benefit from talking to a professional psychologist or counselor, don’t overthink the process, or you may get overwhelmed. Just go a step at a time - make a normal GP appointment, then take it from there.

A final word

Thank you to the contributors for sharing their experiences, and to you for taking the time to read these stories. If you are considering getting help, an appointment with your GP can be a great place to start. There is also a list of support services for men and fatherhood-related podcasts here.

If someone you know might benefit from reading these stories, please consider sending it along. As we said at the outset, if it helps one person take a tiny step to get the support they need, our project has been worthwhile.