My Mental Health Journey (and Antonio Brown)
A personal discussion and my thoughts on the disgraced wide receiver
It’s been a minute.
Actually, it’s been over a month since I’ve written anything, and frankly, it’s been longer than that since I’ve even had a desire to write anything. Blogging has been something I really enjoy and is a great creative outlet, but the last few months have been filled with so much burnout that the idea of writing seemed miserable. I would finish work and instead using that time to write, crochet, bake or read, I would sit on the couch and be a loaf, unable to do much of anything besides stare absentmindedly at the TV. I would muster enough energy to go on a walk with my boyfriend and maybe make dinner, but anything beyond that was so difficult I wouldn’t even want to attempt it.
I’ve had diagnosed depression since I was a sophomore in college. My depression and I are able to coexist, like good roommates who don’t have spats very often and we understand each other. When the depression starts to act up, I’m able to control it pretty well and I know how to move on about my day. It’s always there, usually as an undercurrent, but we can work around each other and I can live a fulfilling life. However, a new roommate moved in a few years ago and that jerk is called anxiety.
Everyone deals with anxiety at certain moments in their life, and everyone is familiar with the feeling. It’s that feeling before a big date, or when your boss puts a meeting on your calendar that you know won’t end well. But a few years ago, after dealing with a very manipulative and abusive supervisor at work, I began to develop severe anxiety. I was having anxiety attacks at work and was functioning at a very base level; I was too anxious to eat, I was losing weight and I wasn’t sleeping. I was basically sleepwalking through the day, hoping I had just enough in me to walk home from the train station after work. I finally went to my doctor and she put me on Lexapro, which turned out to be a saving grace. I was pulled out of that fog, the stomach butterflies went away and I was able to think clearly again. I got a new job and worked to find my joy.
Earlier this year, after a lot of hard work in therapy, I made the decision to ween off the Lexapro. I was confident that I had the tools to manage my anxiety and I was in a a much healthier situation. After I was weened off, I felt fine for months. I’d get some anxiety, but it was manageable and I had weekly sessions with my therapist who was able to give me some great tools to deal with it. I was working out more, going on walks everyday and I didn’t feel much different off Lexapro than I did when I was on it.
Things changed late this fall when my coworker went on maternity leave. I was given almost all of her duties, and that in conjunction with some personnel shuffling, I suddenly found myself doing two full-time jobs, both of which can be demanding on a good day. That, coupled with some family drama, sent me into a very bad place. I had butterflies in my stomach constantly and the smallest frustrations sent me spiraling into tears. I wasn’t sleeping as well because my brain would be racing so much and my stomach would feel like a beehive. It somehow got worse after Thanksgiving and I really retreated into myself. I wasn’t talking to my family as much, I stopped communicating with my friends and my head was so far up my own ass I couldn’t be bothered to deal with anyone else. I would get up, work like a madwoman, then collapse on the couch. Thank God for my amazing boyfriend, who comforted me and gave me the space I needed to break down, cry or just lay next to him while staring into the abyss.
I think I was resistant to go back on the Lexapro because I knew this workload was a short-term problem. I only had to do this difficult work for a few months, and anyone can do anything for a few months, right? Once my coworker got back, things would go back to normal and my anxiety would settle back down. That’s how my brain was rationalizing things, but my body finally forced my brain to accept that I was struggling. I began having anxiety attacks again and these were worse than any I’d experienced before. I had to call out of work because I was shaking so violently and crying so hard that I almost threw up. I made an appointment to get back on the Lexapro, but things got worse before they got better.
Things came to a head on Christmas Eve when my anxiety was so high I couldn’t sleep - my heart was racing so hard that I felt like I was having a heart attack and my brain couldn’t be silenced. It’s so ridiculous, but I had a song from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang running through my head allllllllll night. No matter what I did, my brain wouldn’t shut off. I was so overwhelmed with anxiety and despair that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to fly down to see my mom the next day; I was already mentally preparing my text to her profusely apologizing for not being strong enough to handle a one hour flight. In the days leading up to Christmas, I was dealing with lofty, time-sensitive work requirements, sick family members, a new wave in the pandemic, the possibility of me getting older family members sick, my boyfriend getting hurt while on a job and I had to board an airplane (I hate flying so much). Everything seemed to come crashing down and I was frozen. I made it through opening gifts on Christmas morning, but immediately broke down crying afterwords. My sister helped calm me down and I was able to get on the plane to see my mom. I spent the week after Christmas sleeping, eating good food again and accepting love from my whole family.
I got back on the Lexapro almost three weeks ago and it was the best decision I’ve made in a long time. I finally acknowledged that I needed help and that’s okay. I made the choice to stop feeling like shit all the time, and there is no weakness in that. I’m looking forward to getting back into a workout routine, finding motivation and moving forward in a positive direction. I also want to acknowledge that I know I have a lot of privilege because I am able to go to therapy, to see my doctor and take the time I need to get myself right. All that said, I’m happy and eager to share my story because there is not enough dialogue about mental health and I think it’s important that people share when they are not okay.
It also leads me to a discussion about former Buccaneers wide receiver Antonio Brown.
By now, everyone has seen the video of Brown striping off his jersey, throwing clothes into the crowd and storming off the field. I’m not going to show it here, but you can find it if you want. I’ll admit, my first reaction to seeing this was “oh my god, what an ass clown.” While at the airport waiting for my flight home, I read all the rapid reactions, fast takes and overheard a lot of conversations about it from other airline passengers - everyone was in agreement that he was a diva turd.
However, the more I thought about it, the more I just felt sad. Brown is a man who needs help, and clearly doesn’t believe he needs help. Quarterback Tom Brady alluded to the same thing in his presser after the game, asking for grace and compassion for Brown, who he noted was “going through things”. Brown, for much of his career, has been “going through things”, but his talent has covered up a lot of the shenanigans. Just see this below list of crap Brown has gotten himself into:
I mean, yikes. And that doesn’t even include everything!
It’s a familiar story, though - a troubled and gross athlete given multiple chances because of his talent. Brown is an extremely talented wide receiver, no one is denying that. But he’s also an extremely terrible human being, mental health issues or not.
My therapist once explained to me that mental health issues are an explainer for behavior, but not necessarily an excuse for it. Antonio Brown clearly has mental health issues that need to be addressed. But mental health problems don’t make you repeatedly sexually assault women. They don’t make you credibly rape someone. They don’t make you turn in a fake vaccination card to your team during a deadly pandemic. Brown simply isn’t a good dude. Yes, there has been some disagreement about why he stormed off the field a week ago, with Brown saying he was dealing with an ankle injury and head coach Bruce Arians not being sensitive to that. But even if that ends up being true, you don’t get to storm off the field, create a spectacle and quit on your team. The mental health issues Brown seems to be dealing with are not an excuse for the behavior he displayed last Sunday, but it can explain why he’s acting out, and I hope this leads him to get the help he so desperately needs.
I really hope Brown wakes up and sees that something needs to change. I really hope he has people around him who will encourage him to reach out and do what he can to better himself. My heart hurts for him, it honestly does, but I also hope I never see him in a NFL uniform ever again. He doesn’t deserve to be in the National Football League and he’s run out of chances. It really is that simple.
During Christmas Eve, the song from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang that kept going through my head is called “The Roses of Success”. It’s a fun little song about finding success out of failure and getting back up after you’re knocked down. I think it’s kind of ironic that this was the song going through my head because it very much so perfectly describes the moment of life I’m in right now. Though the song is about trying to repair a car that can float in the water and fly, the message is really about not being daunted by life’s difficulties. In fact, it’s about embracing the difficult moments and allowing yourself to grow. I am emerging out of a dark period and am excited to bloom. I hope Antonio Brown uses this opportunity to get help, come out of this on the other side and grow into a better version of himself.
Every bursted bubble has a glory!
Each abysmal failure makes a point!
Every glowing path that goes astray,
Shows you how to find a better way.
So every time you stumble never grumble.
Next time you'll bumble even less!
For up from the ashes, up from the ashes, grow the roses of success!
Grow the roses!
Grow the roses!
Grow the roses of success!
Oh yes!
Grow the roses!
Those rosy roses!
From the ashes of disaster grow the roses of success!Yes I know but he wants it to float. It will!
For every big mistake you make be grateful!
Here, here!
That mistake you'll never make again!
No sir!
Every shiny dream that fades and dies,
Generates the steam for two more tries!
(Oh) There's magic in the wake of a fiasco!
Correct!
It gives you that chance to second guess!
Oh yes!
Then up from the ashes, up from the ashes grow the roses of success!
Grow the roses!
Grow the roses!
Grow the roses of success!
Grow the roses!
Those rosy roses!
From the ashes of disaster grow the roses of success!
Disaster didn't stymie Louis Pasteur!
No sir!
Edison took years to see the light!
Right!
Alexander Graham knew failure well; he took a lot of knocks to ring that
bell!
So when it gets distressing it's a blessing!
Onward and upward you must press!
Yes, Yes!
Till up from the ashes, up from the ashes grow the roses of success.
Be a rose, and remember that it’s okay to get help. And remember that things will get better. And watch Chitty Chitty Bang Bang because it slaps and will make you feel joy.
Much love, y’all.
Like the Rose that Grew through the Concrete! Beautiful honesty. Thanks, Hannah!!