There's a particular trap that keeps a lot of men silent, and it's not pride and it's not toughness. It's this thought:
I don't even know what's wrong. So what would I even say?
You feel off, flat, wound-up, heavy, not yourself, but you couldn't write a sentence about it if your life depended on it. There's no story with a beginning and middle. Nothing happened, exactly. And because you can't name it, you figure you can't raise it. You'd sound stupid. Better wait until you've got it figured out.
So you wait. And "until I've got it figured out" quietly becomes months.
That block is normal, and it's backwards
First thing to know: not having the words is normal. It might be the most common opening condition there is. Feelings don't arrive labelled, and men especially were never given much of a vocabulary for this stuff. Expecting yourself to produce a tidy explanation of something you're still inside is like expecting a bloke to describe a house from one of the bedrooms.
Second thing, and this is the one that matters: you've got the order of operations backwards. You don't find the words and then talk. You talk, and that's how you find the words. Every counsellor knows this. Most men who've been through it know it too. The understanding comes out in the telling, not before it. Waiting until you can explain it is waiting for the end of the process before you'll agree to start it.
The smallest possible openings
You need one sentence, and it can be as vague as you like. All of these are complete, legitimate ways to start:
To your partner or a mate: "I'm not doing great at the moment." That's it. No backstory required. The other person will take it from there, people nearly always do.
Or: "Can we have a yarn sometime? Nothing urgent. Just stuff." You've opened the door without even walking through it yet.
To a helpline: ring or text 1737 and say, word for word, "I don't really know why I'm calling. I've just been feeling off." They hear exactly that opening every single day. It is not a failed start, it is a start, and the person on the other end is trained to help you go from there. If talking's too much, text. A text that just says "hi" gets a reply.
To your GP: "I've been feeling off for a while and I want to get it looked at." Same sentence you'd use for a dodgy shoulder. The GP does the figuring-out, that's the job. You just have to bring it in.
Notice what none of these require: a diagnosis, a cause, a story, the right vocabulary, or being in crisis. The entry bar is one honest, vague sentence. That's the whole ticket.
What happens after you crack it open
Less than you fear, and more than you expect. The other person doesn't demand you explain yourself, mostly they just make room. And something odd happens once there's room: the thing you couldn't describe starts describing itself. Half-sentences turn into whole ones. A month later you've got words for things you couldn't point at before.
It doesn't happen in one go, and it doesn't need to. The first sentence isn't supposed to explain anything. It's just supposed to be said, one vague, honest sentence, out loud, to one person.
"I'm not doing great." You don't need anything more than that to start.
No words needed here either: call or text 1737, free, 24/7, and start with "I don't know where to start." In an emergency, call 111. The full list of helplines is at the bottom of every page.