Dedicated to those who are struggling or have struggled with thoughts of suicide, as well as those who have died by suicide.
I feel, and I feel deeply. I feel what happens to the people I am closest to. I feel what happens to those I've never met. One of my gifts is the ability to feel what others are feeling. It's how I process decisions. It's how I process relationships. It's how I process the world.
When I read the news that another student-athlete passed away, I had to close Twitter. I put a playlist on shuffle and laid on my bed staring at the ceiling — one of the places I go (and have always gone) to feel.
What would it have been like to lose a teammate?
I can't say because it didn’t happen to me, but here’s a snippet of what I saw in my head…
Blank faces — the empty stares of grief
An untouched locker — the hope that they’ll come back
Tears — of disbelief, of anger, of deep sadness
Lots and lots of tears…
I think about the hours I spent with my teammates, more than I spent with my family or a partner during my years in college.
I think about all the memories we shared. late nights up studying or playing cards, locker room dance parties and carpool karaoke, spontaneous road trips for sushi, and even tattoos.
I think about all the things we fought over, the details of which I honestly can’t remember. but I’m sure boys or girls were the topics of a few. Along with who didn’t do the dishes, take out the trash, or clean the bathroom. We fought over all the things that didn’t matter.
What matters is the late-night talks about life, the runs to Dairy Queen for emotional support ice cream, and the “I noticed you didn’t eat today, I made you a plate”.
I consider myself one of the lucky ones. I had a coach who understood (and understands) the importance of seeing, hearing, and knowing her players. I know my teammates cared about me (even when we were fighting over something dumb). I was a part of a tight-knit campus and had confidants I felt comfortable talking to when I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. But that does not mean my journey was free from struggle.
Being an athlete is demanding on the mind, body, and soul. When I was 18, I didn't have the coping skills I needed to manage these demands. It takes a very specialized mental skill set to be successful as an athlete. I didn’t realize this until I took a sports psych class for my master's program in 2020 (s/o Dr. Beatty)
Bringing my stream of consciousness full circle, imagine the mental toll losing a teammate takes on a young person. Imagine the trauma that leaves them to unpack.
Imagine the void that’s created in them, one that can never be filled.
I implore whoever is reading this, regardless of if you’re an athlete or could care less about sports, to feel more.
Lean into the difficult conversations and recognize the courage it took for someone to be vulnerable with you.
Listen with an open mind and heart.
Refer and normalize seeking help.
Create spaces for people to be fully human.
And if, at any point, you f e e l that someone may have thoughts of suicide — ask them about it. Having that conversation could be the assist that saves their life.
Keep making the pass.
You are never alone.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255
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