It’s a rare thing, a group of men in a room, talking about their mental health. They have all led difficult lives, and they don’t usually talk about it.

They throw a ball around the room to indicate whose turn it is to speak. “When a man talks about his emotions he is often told, ‘don’t be a girl… man up’,” offers one participant, Harry Lambert.

He has been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder and describes not airing problems as like “allowing a poison to build up inside”.

This mentoring weekend, offered by the charity Oak London, is an opportunity for these men to release some of that poison.

Charities warn this time of year can be extra difficult for those struggling with their mental health.

Men are more likely to go missing, sleep rough, and become dependent on drugs and alcohol – all contributing to a higher suicide rate compared to women. It is the most common cause of death for men under 50.

In the room with sofas around the edge, the men – mostly in their 20s – have come from various unstable settings.

Some are referred from probation services, others have been homeless and responded to flyers put out in London hostels offering a retreat to Bristol and a weekend to “escape your everyday surroundings” and “develop your relationship with yourself and others”.

The first section of the session is about recognising the stereotypes of manhood. Participants offer up words for the whiteboard – including dominant, macho, stoic.

Physically, all of them size up more than most to these expectations, but as their tattooed hands write down shortcomings on pieces of paper, the insecurities come to light.

“You make people scared,” one writes.

‘A lot of people don’t show emotion’

This prompts a discussion about how they should respond when someone is visibly scared of them as they walk down the street.

“I feel like if I’ve scared you, I feel like the one thing I don’t want to then do, is approach you and say, like, ‘sorry’.”

The other men agree this wouldn’t work, but all recognise the sense of isolation their physical appearance can create. At the same time, they accept, they often want to look tough.

“A lot of people I know, they don’t show any sort of emotion,” says Shareef Venson, an ex-participant and now helper.

“But you can see that they’re struggling with certain issues. It’s just that they feel like they can’t physically show it.”

Several factors that affect men’s mental health

Benjamin Kuti, a soft-spoken young man, had a difficult childhood, often without his mother present. He has dyspraxia but says many factors can play on his mental health.

“Being unemployed, for example, or even just being isolated. That can just impact your psychological state. It’s a very small, blurred line. I really struggle to create meaningful relationships with people where it’s like, this person actually sees me, or this person actually likes me – for me.”

Wealth, and failing to accumulate it, is another recurring theme.

The handwritten sticky notes are attached to bricks and Shareef stands in the middle while the men pile them into his arms saying the words on the paper: “You scare people”, “you failed in your job”, “you have a low self-esteem”. One of the last ones reads, “you should jump”.

Loaded up with all the notes a mentor asks Shareef: “How would it feel going for a job carrying all those bricks?”

“I wouldn’t apply for anything,” he says.

And so, the lesson is to try to remove them, reject them, pass them back, put them on the floor, share them out, so you carry fewer.

Rare opportunity to talk about struggles

Mental health among men often goes undiagnosed. Only about half of those suffering from a mental health problem seek help. That means they often carry the burden alone.

Jos Lucas, founder of Oak London, says: “Because we’re outside of London, outside of distractions, outside of people having to look over their shoulder every minute… I think it naturally happens, in group discussions, that people do feel that they can trust each other, they can talk about things that they might not otherwise have the opportunity to talk about.”

Harry, who has self-harmed and struggled with depression and anxiety since the age of 13 says he didn’t get a diagnosis for his personality disorder until he was 19.

He describes his symptoms as “heightened anxiety, heightened depression, major mood swings, manic episodes and extremely depressive episodes, along with things like suicidal thoughts and tendency to things like addiction”.

He is still on the waiting list for therapy. The conversations he has had with other men at the Oak London project have been some of the most open and honest he’s ever had.

‘I can talk openly without being judged’

He said: “A lot of times you talk to your friends and especially with men, you talk to them and say, how are you doing People say ‘Yeah, I’m good,’ and they won’t be good because they think you either don’t care or they think you don’t hear it, or they’re worried that you’re going to judge them.”

“Whereas here in Oak London, this is the only place I’ve ever been to where I felt I can go and I can talk openly without being judged, while trying to help other people and help myself.

“It’s okay to be vulnerable. And I think that’s the message that urgently needs to be out there, because there’s so much stigma around how a man needs to be dominant, masculine and stoic, but if you’re an emotional man, a sensitive man, embrace that, that’s okay. And if you feel like you want to talk, talk to someone.”

Back in London, life’s troubles await these young men but addressing them by saying them out loud, and hearing of them in others, may just help.