The reason why I write what I write about men is because I have a genuine appreciation for men. I just like men being men. I like men in the same way one might marvel at a wild animal and appreciate it for its innate qualities.

I have also known the anguish of losing a man I cared about to suicide and I have sat with others who have found themselves locked in late-night conversations with death - taking long contemplative drags on their cigarettes together.

Most men have endured profound soul-wrenching loneliness at some point in their lives - often bearing the weight of others while feeling like a burden themselves. While women often have access to spaces of refuge, men face a scarcity of such sanctuaries. For many, life becomes an unending struggle, akin to trying to carry the world on batteries long since depleted - there is no "off" switch - yet these men still rise each morning, determined to continue.

It is a level of physical and mental exhaustion that many women might find difficult to fully comprehend. For some men, death begins to feel like salvation - from the relentless stress and anxiety - it is a yearning for true rest and relief.

So, I write to empathise, to inspire compassion, and to perhaps help men feel a little less alone.

Choose life. Choose to live. I promise you, there is someone - whether now or in the future - who is or will be profoundly grateful for your existence and would miss you beyond measure.