You wouldnѻýt know it from looking, but men across Greater Victoria, and Canada, are struggling.
That's why June, recognized as Men's Mental Health Month, offers an important opportunity to raise awareness and share information about just how staggering those numbers are.
For Richard Sayad, director of clinical services at South Island Counselling, the issue isnѻýt just the lack of resources for menѻýs mental health ѻý itѻýs the lack of conversation
That silence, he says, is rooted in something deeper: traditional masculinity.
ѻýI think there are still messages out there about what it means to be a man,ѻý Sayad said. ѻýPeople have trouble reconciling some of those ideas with needing to show vulnerability, or needing to reach out and speak about their depression.ѻý
The messaging that men should ѻýhold it inѻý and ѻýtough it outѻý is decades old ѻý and itѻýs still winning.
For years, men have made up only about 30 per cent of South Island Counsellingѻýs clients ѻý a number that hasnѻýt budged despite greater public awareness around mental health.
National data paints a stark picture.
According to the Government of Canada men accounted for nearly 75 per cent of all suicide deaths in 2022.
Middle-aged men ѻý those between 30 and 59 ѻý represented more than half of those cases. In 2019, 1.66 million Canadian men reported seriously contemplating suicide at some point in their lives.
A 2025 national survey conducted by the Canadian Menѻýs Health Foundation (CMHF) found that 64 per cent of men were experiencing moderate to high levels of stress ѻý up four per cent from the previous year.
About one in four were at risk of moderate to severe depression, and half said they were at risk of social isolation. Despite those numbers, 67 per cent of men said they had never reached out for professional mental health support.
"Men's mental health is declining at an alarming rate, and too many, especially younger men, are facing these struggles on their own," Kenton Boston, president & CEO of CMHF, said. "We want men to know they aren't alone, that the CMHF is here for them and has tools to support them."
Sayad isnѻýt surprised at the numbers. Most men, he said, donѻýt feel comfortable sitting down and opening up.
ѻýItѻýs not just about stigma ѻý itѻýs about how men relate differently. Generally, men are less likely to just talk to people about their problems," he said.
The can be subtle.
Sayad points to what he calls a ѻýquiet withdrawalѻý as the most common clue that somethingѻýs wrong. But knowing what to say ѻý or how to encourage a man to open up ѻý isnѻýt always easy. Sometimes, just making it clear that itѻýs okay to talk can make all the difference.
Thatѻýs the idea behind a new grassroots initiative being launched in Victoria by mental health advocate Carrie Parsons.
t is, on the surface, a hat with a tree symbol. But the meaning behind it runs much deeper.
Parsons, founder of the West Coast Speaks Health Society, designed the project as a low-barrier entry point for men who may not be ready for therapy, but still need to feel supported.
The projectѻýs message isnѻýt aimed at the man wearing the hat ѻý itѻýs for those around him.
ѻýThe hat messaging isnѻýt to support the man wearing it ѻý itѻýs to support the men surrounding him,ѻý Parsons said. The hat serves as a visual cue that the person wearing it is open to connection and talking about mental health.
ѻýThatѻýs the beauty of the hat ѻý no words need to be exchanged for the interaction to be meaningful. A life could be saved in complete silence.ѻý
Each purchase of a Sitka Project hat follows a buy-one-give-one model. One goes to the buyer, and the other is given away, creating a quiet, visible network of support.
The first batch is being produced locally at Rain Coast Print Shop, with the hopes that the hats will help ignite a broader conversation.

ѻýThis was created not by doctors or clinicians, but as a direct response to the lack of entry-level resources,ѻý Parsons said. ѻýItѻýs a tool, not a solution ѻý but itѻýs a place to start.ѻý
Sayad agrees that non-traditional approaches might be the key. In his experience, support groups and therapy sessions tend to attract more women than men. A group built around an activity ѻý hiking, sports, shared projects ѻý might feel more accessible and less intimidating.
ѻýIf you started a menѻýs support group, you probably wouldnѻýt get a lot of attendance,ѻý he said. ѻýBut if it was built around something they enjoy doing, thatѻýs a different story.ѻý
While some progress is being made, Sayad is clear-eyed about the work that remains. Loneliness among men, especially those aged 25 to 35, is a growing issue. And although more older men are starting to seek therapy ѻý a good sign, he says ѻý the numbers are still far too low.
ѻýConnection is foundational to being human,ѻý Sayad said. ѻýIf youѻýre feeling a lack of connection in the world, itѻýs OK to seek it. And itѻýs OK to be vulnerable. It usually rarely makes anyone feel worse after having a therapy session.ѻý
For men in Greater Victoria, one such option is the Menѻýs Therapy Centre, which offers specialized counselling services tailored to men. Itѻýs one of the few male-focused resources in the region.
are available for men to access.
But broader cultural change is needed.
The hope for both Sayad and Parsons is that community-based, grassroots efforts like the Sitka Project can help bridge the gap, offering quiet signs of solidarity until louder conversations are ready to be had.
Because, as the data makes clear, silence is no longer an option.