What made me struggle the most was to accept that what I was going through was a “valuable” excuse to seek for help. No issue is too small or “not good enough”. 

I have grown up with the stereotypical idea that a man has to be a rock for their family and friends. Even though struggling is acceptable, I have never learned how to talk about my struggles and would much rather not think about them. I believe I’m lucky enough to always have had anything I needed, which always made me feel like I didn’t have “the right to complain”. I’ve felt uncomfortable talking about my struggles for all those reasons. 
University has definitely changed my mind on that and I am happy to share my experience, with the hope that it might help anyone who’s going through a similar experience. 


I have struggled, for long, to find a starting point to my mental health issues. It is only while writing this down that I’ve realised where it all started. Despite not having any major traumatic experience, and in addition to the build up of a lot of little things that weighted more and more on my shoulders, I would say that my first flight back home during term time, in May last year, because my grand dad has got hospitalised, has been a turning point. He has had several health issues since I was born, having his 1st stroke two months before my birth. I knew from a young age that I needed to enjoy every moment with him because he was getting old and had health issues, however and despite being told that, every summer while going to Romania to visit him, he has been living for the last 21 years relatively healthy. However last May was the first time I was actually freaking out to not see him again. 

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