39,045

Drew Clark

WhiteFlag Athlete & Guest Blogger

39,045.

That’s how many men took their lives last year.

107 every day.

4.5 every hour.

One suicide every 13 minutes.

Let that sink in. By the time you finish reading this post, another man will have made the irreversible decision to end his life. And most people won’t even know his name.

He might have been someone’s father. Someone’s son. Someone’s best friend. Maybe someone who made people laugh every time he entered a room. The quiet coworker. The neighbor you waved to. The guy at the gym. Or maybe—he was you.

This is the silent crisis we don't talk about enough. The one that hides behind strong handshakes and forced smiles. Behind “I’m fine” and “Don’t worry about me.” Behind the fear of seeming weak in a world that tells men they’re supposed to be tough, unshakable, emotionless.

But men feel too.

They break too.

They get tired too.

And they bleed silently behind closed doors.

The Numbers Behind the Pain

In 2023, over 49,300 people died by suicide in the United States. Nearly 80% of them were men. Most people don’t realize this. They hear the word “mental health” and imagine the face of someone else—not a man. Especially not the strong, hardworking, emotionally distant man we’re taught to admire. But statistics don’t lie: Men are four times more likely to die by suicide than women.

And the most common method? Firearms—used in over half of male suicides. Because when men decide they can’t take the pain anymore, they often choose methods that don’t allow a second chance.

We lose more men to suicide than we do to car accidents or homicides. It’s not a small issue. It’s a full-blown epidemic. Yet we rarely talk about it.

Why?

Because somewhere along the way, we told boys to "man up" instead of "speak up." We taught them to silence their tears, to carry their burdens alone, to measure their worth by how little they needed help. Vulnerability became a liability. And help-seeking became shameful.

So they buried the pain.

They buried it under long workdays and sleepless nights.

They buried it under alcohol, anger, silence, and smiles that never quite reached their eyes.

They buried it until it buried them.

A Man in Pain Doesn’t Always Look Like Pain

He might not cry.

He might not say a word.

He might still show up every day, get the job done, crack a joke, and say he’s “just tired.”

And then, one day—he’s gone.

No warning.

No goodbye.

Just a devastating silence where a life once lived.

This Has to Stop

We can’t afford to keep pretending this isn’t happening. We can’t afford to let stigma steal any more lives. Mental health is health. And just like heart disease, cancer, or any other illness, it needs treatment, compassion, and visibility.

We need to let men feel.

We need to let men cry.

We need to teach them that asking for help is not weakness—it’s strength.

We need to redefine masculinity to include vulnerability, softness, and healing.

Because the strongest thing a man can do is stay.

If You’re a Man Reading This…

You matter.

You are not broken.

You are not weak.

You are not alone.

Whatever weight you’re carrying, you don’t have to carry it alone.

There is help. There is hope. And there is life beyond the darkness.

If you're struggling, please reach out:

• 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline – Call or Text 988

• Crisis Text Line – Text HOME to 741741

• Veterans Crisis Line – Call 988 and Press 1, or Text 838255

• The WhiteFlag App

  
  

Let’s break the silence. Let’s talk about men’s mental health.

Let’s make sure that 39,045 doesn’t happen again.

Because every one of those numbers had a name.

And every one of those names had a story that deserved to continue.

_________

Connect with someone who understands on WhiteFlag: a free, anonymous, peer support network.

Your feedback matters!