When I was 10 years old I fell in love with sports, and ever since then my passion for the game has only increased. I love to watch, I love to play, I love to coach, I love it all. I don't know what it is, but there is something about the game that just pulls me in. It was sports that taught me how to work hard for someone other than just me.
There was something about the game that made it to where I just couldn't get enough. I wanted to jump the highest, I wanted to run the fast, I wanted to hit the hardest: I wanted to be the best because my teammates deserved to play with the best. So I worked for it. I ran the extra mile, I got the extra reps, and I lifted extra weight. Whatever it took I did it, because this was what I loved. I had drive and I had passion, but one day it just wasn't there anymore.
Depression is genetic and it runs in my family. It was something that I witnessed, but like most people, it is something that I didn't understand. In today's society, mental illness is simply taboo, and little is being done to change that. I watched depression hurt the people I love, but I never took any steps to try and help them or to try and combat it. I never thought that one day I would be in their shoes.
Much like any other disease, depression affects everyone differently. For me, it wasn't a certain event that brought it out, but just a combination of circumstances I arrogantly tried to handle on my own. Some days I slept a lot, while other days I didn't sleep at all. I found myself barely eating one meal a day, I stopped paying attention in class, and I avoided leaving my room at all costs. My friends began to notice that I wasn't acting like my usual self anymore: I was uncharacteristically quiet and my usual smile had "faded." Worst of all: I stopped caring about the game that I used to live and breathe for.
The sport that had brought me so much joy and had consumed my heart ever since I could remember no longer meant anything to me. I found myself going to practices and simply going through the motions. There was no drive and there was no passion anymore. It was simply another thing I had to do in order to just make it to the next day.
An athlete who is suffering from depression is in the worst of circumstances because they are caught in a nearly unbeatable cycle. The game that once brought them so much joy and happiness is now being hindered by a chemical imbalance they cannot control, and because of this often times their game is heavily affected. If they are like me, their desire to improve is overshadowed by the fight to get out of bed, their passion is clouded by a pain that makes them question their existence, and the one thing that used to keep their heat beating is now crumbling around them.
Suddenly practices are feeling like a lost cause, that extra mile is just too far, and the game you fell in love with as a child now seems utterly pointless. If you're like me, you tried to fight it. You try to remember why you fell in love, and you try and use the game to snap yourself out of it, but that just won't be enough. Suddenly you aren't the only one who notices your game is slipping; your coach and teammates start to notice that you're just not playing like yourself anymore, and your game dynamic changes, only forcing you deeper into the cycle.These are the times when those circumstances feel unbeatable. Trust me, I was there. There were days when I wanted to give up on the one thing that never gave up on me, but I thank God I didn't.
Depression shouldn't be ignored, because it isn't something that just goes away. Studies have shown that anywhere from 17% to 25% of collegiate athletes have experienced some sort of depression in their career. That is an alarming number: nearly 1 in 4. However, out of all the groups surveyed, athletes were recorded as the least likely to report any form of mental illness.
So many athletes feel that because they play a sport, they aren't allowed to admit weakness. Well, let me tell you something: my depression didn't make me weak, it made me stronger. I fought an incredibly tough battle, and I won. However, it wasn't until after I admitted to my coach and my teammates that I needed help that I actually got it. So if you're like me or you have a teammate like me: reach out. You are not alone. Depression is real, and the only way we can beat it is by educating ourselves. Together, we can win this fight.
