Clarity on Draft Day

    The following is a courageous piece written by my former NFL teammate Craig Veasey. Craig and I are working together in order to raise awareness of mental illness in the NFL.  


                            

                   
                                    
My  Houston Oiler teammate Craig Veasey

April 22, 2010 (NFL Draft Day) 

       20 years ago, on this very day, I was high on life. Life was good, I just went from what I thought was just a life of bad luck, to standing on top of the world, but little did I know! I was a young man with problems, who was just handed the key to Pandora’s box. Football was an unrealistic world, which helped foster my illness; all the while I thought that my actions were just the norm of an NFL player. Alcohol, Promiscuity, Drugs and the excessive spending; that’s normal isn’t it? ..... No, its not. 

      20 years later, I have nothing; all wasted away, including all of my young years. With all of the negative attention given to the actions of a hand full of NFL players these days, is it possible that some of it can be attributed to BPD? 1 divorce and the loss of a relationship with my oldest child later, I final have help, and understanding. It took the love of my wife, Lisa, to not only own up to there actually being a problem, but also to actually accepting and getting help. I was lucky, that Lisa actually graduated with a degree in psychology, and recognized the symptoms, but too many people don’t have that kind of support. 

      I still struggle, and it is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, to not give in. Two days ago, I was leaving a building here in Houston, and the police were blocking everyone from entering the parking garage. I noticed the medical examiners van sitting on the far side of the entrance, and an over abundance of police in the area. A building employee standing with us, told us that someone had just leaped from the 7^th floor, to his death.  I had just been there 20 minutes ago. It had to happen exactly after I walked past there. A lady standing with us commented, “It’s never that bad.” No, it really isn’t that bad, but for us with BPD and other mental illnesses, it’s not always that clear. For a moment, I understood what he might have been going through, to make him give up his life. Could he have been helped, yes, we all can, but there must be more understanding.

“I yearned to get better; I told myself I was getting better. In fact, the depression was still there, like a powerful undertow. Sometimes it grabbed me, yanked me under; other times, I swam free.” –Tracy Thompson, The Beast: A Reckoning with Depression