LAST December, 50 men set off from Stockton High Street to walk a 20 mile route along the River Tees to Saltburn.

All members of Infant Hercules, Teesside’s largest pub-based male voice choir, we wanted to do our bit to stop other men dying in Teesside.

Teesside has been labelled as many things since its initial Infant Hercules accolade back in the 1860s – sometimes positive – often less so. But the latest one – a statistical fact putting us at the top of the suicide league table, didn’t sit well with any of us.

Most of the choir joined under duress or, in the early days by the lure of me buying them a pint.

Few would admit to being singers but all have a voice, a heart and a desire to be a part of something positive for our region.

We meet, sing our hearts out and talk.

And as we talk to one another we discover that beyond our brash, white shirted exterior we share many of the vulnerabilities that are easier to hide rather than admit and let our guard down.

Many of us – successful, popular, happy at home and supported by our families for no obvious reasons still feel alone.

We may share a common identity but have somehow lost our personal sense of self. Self-worth, self-esteem, self-belief.

There is no logic – no one to blame but a lack of “blokey” vocabulary means that articulating how we feel is nigh on impossible.

When someone who cares about us asks, (and please don’t stop asking), why we feel down and we offer no answer it can be frustrating on both sides. But when that emotional smog has descended it makes it so hard to find the right words.

It drifts in unannounced and what begins as a slight irritating mist can quickly evolve into a thick and oppressive fog. Nothing stops it.

It leaves us lost, afraid and perhaps worst of all for men – out of control.

Teesside has some incredible professionals working to help men – and women – and there is no shortage of expertise in mental health.

On that chilly December day Infant Hercules did our bit. We raised more than £3,000 so that the Samaritans could erect signage across Stockton and the wider Tees Valley.

Signs to remind everyone that there is always an alternative.

The Northern Echo: Mike McGrother with deputy leader of Stockton Borough Council, Jim Beall and Cleveland crime commissioner Barry CoppingerMike McGrother with deputy leader of Stockton Borough Council, Jim Beall and Cleveland crime commissioner Barry Coppinger

The Pals Programme is the next step in our journey. It is a non-singing version of Infant Hercules.

Devised by and for men, the programme creates contexts and projects to de-stress and feel better about life by giving of our time and skills – volunteering, walking, learning and developing our individual and collective ability to talk and listen.

It isn’t about expertise – it is about sharing experiences – the ups and downs of life to help each other.

We meet on the first Thursday of the month for a walk and then a talk and a drink. No big agendas – we are a social club for the 21st Century.

Each month I’ll update our progress and perhaps as you read you may like to get involved or know someone who would benefit.

Like the Pals of the First World War, we are fighting a common enemy. Ours is less tangible but just as destructive. It is a battle we have to fight. Together.

For more details see facebook.com/palsprogrammestockton

Mike McGrother is the front man of local band The Wildcats of Kilkenny. In recent years in his Wild Rover persona he has embarked on walks to share stories from history and encourage people to talk about mental health.

Mike’s mantra – take one step at a time – helped him overcome his own demons and now, writing for The Northern Echo, he hopes to help others as they take the steps they need on their own journeys of recovery.