There is a month designated for men's mental health awareness. It's June. And every year, conversations pick up, posts get shared, people talk about breaking the stigma.
Then July comes. And the silence returns.
As a therapist, I can't wait for June. I think about my male clients every single day. And on the hard days — when someone doesn't show up, when a call doesn't come back, when the silence feels heavy — I go home worried. Worried about whether they're okay. Worried about whether they'll be here next week.
That's not dramatic. That's the reality of working in mental health in Utah right now.
The Numbers Are Not Abstract
Let's be direct about what's happening in our state:
- 3 out of every 4 Utahns who die by suicide are male. (Utah DHHS, 2021–2023)
- Utah men aged 35–44 have a suicide rate of 49.3 per 100,000 — the highest of any demographic group in Utah.
- Utah men who died by suicide were significantly less likely to have been receiving mental health treatment at the time of their death.
- In 2023, 696 Utahns died by suicide. Nearly 2 people every single day.
- Utah's suicide rate has been above the national average for over 20 years.
These aren't numbers from somewhere else. This is Utah. This is Iron County. This is our community.
Why Men Don't Ask for Help
I've sat across from enough men to know that it's rarely about not caring. It's about what they've been taught caring looks like.
Men are raised — in most families, in most cultures — to be the ones who hold things together. To fix problems. To not be the problem. Asking for help can feel like admitting failure. Like putting a burden on someone else. Like weakness.
So they carry it. And they carry it quietly. And by the time it becomes visible, it's often become a crisis.
The men who need help most are often the ones least likely to reach out. That's not a character flaw. It's a cultural one. And it's one we can change — but only if we talk about it, loudly, and all year long.
What Help Actually Looks Like
Therapy isn't lying on a couch talking about your childhood. For most of the men I work with, it's practical. It's about understanding what's driving the anger, the numbness, the restlessness. It's about building real skills to manage stress, communicate better, and show up more fully for the people they love.
It's also confidential. It's a space where you don't have to protect anyone from what you're feeling.
Most men who try therapy wish they had started sooner. Not because they were in crisis. Because they didn't realize how much lighter things could feel.
We're Not Waiting
At Mending Minds, we work with men every day. We see the courage it takes to walk through the door. We don't need a designated month to take this seriously — because the men in our community can't afford for us to wait.
If you're a man who's been running on empty, if someone in your life is pulling away and you don't know how to reach them, if you've been telling yourself it'll get better on its own — this is the sign.
We're here. We're not waiting for June.