Love or hate it, the pandemic has greatly impacted every one of us. I believe that all of us were so close to the eye of a hurricane that some of the trauma has yet to be properly processed. As it stands, I don’t even think that it’s over yet and the uncertainty of the future is only slightly clearer than it was three months ago when vaccination numbers were skyrocketing, where it looked like everything would return to normal. Whether it’s losing someone to Coronavirus, being a long hauler, being cramped up in a house all day, or dealing with conflicted feelings regarding the public, everyone needs to admit that they’ve had some issues.
Part of The Memory Tourist’s recent direction has been about addressing that within my own life. Between Mid-November and Late-April, I had a terrible case of depression that included some less than favorable actions towards myself. Even as I worked on myself, the day-to-day improvements were often slight enough that I slipped and the journey to stability was difficult. I still have days where I feel it coming on, the need to give in to bad impulses. The trick is learning how to manage it, which has been a lot of the past three months for me. I admit that the pandemic was stressful for me, even if I followed the guidelines and expressed compassion for those around me. It’s a pain to deal with no matter how you look at it.
Years ago, it’s what made me latch onto Dear Evan Hansen. I loved the idea of media being more open to discussing mental health, challenging notions that strength meant repressing negative thoughts and pushing yourself further. Billie Eilish continues to be one of my favorite musicians for similar reasons. Meanwhile seeing people like Kevin Love admit to depression helped me to realize that I wasn’t alone.
But there is something incredible about the past month. With the induction of The Tokyo Olympics finally in place, the discussion once again shifted back to mental health on a public scale. Actually, it started a little before but in order to contain the narrative, I will start with the most popular story, the one that is likely to be remembered decades from now when people look back. I can only hope that it’s a moment of fondness as well as a sign of how far we’ve come since July 2021.
When looking at who was to be considered the top athletes to watch, U.S.A. gymnast Simone Biles was near the top of the list. No matter where you looked, she was going to be the triumphant face. She had already proven herself in prior ceremonies and this was going to be her farewell, a chance to collect the last few gold medals before waving goodbye. Given that she was coming off of trial runs where she landed stunts that went viral, the pressure for her to be the best of the best was very obvious. Unlike before, it didn’t feel like attention was thrown onto her peers. This was going to be her moment.
Then it happened. In a moment that stirred up a lot of debate, she took to a routine that ended very poorly. As she leaped into the air, preparing to land a routine that she could’ve landed in her sleep, something felt… off. It was clear that if she continued in this way that she could potentially injure herself, at the very least hurting her team’s chances of higher scores. As she walked off, she reported publicly that she was withdrawing from the upcoming competition due to mental health reasons.
It would eventually come out that she was suffering from depression related to the recent passing of a loved one. Add on various other pressures regarding being a top grade gymnast, and the ability to focus became an apparent issue. She released videos of herself training, unable to get into the right headspace. Some argued that this was related to staying at different hotels, or that Japan was critical of her taking ADHD medication. Nobody knows for sure except her, but what I do love is the conversation that followed.
Okay, it wasn’t entirely the sympathetic response that I wanted to hear. There were out of shape, geriatric men complaining about Biles dropping out. They believed that as a professional athlete that she needed to push herself beyond her capability, to be something greater than herself. Given that an understudy Sunisa Lee took her place and did pretty good for herself, there’s no reason to express such obnoxious levels of disappointment.
Biles’ excusing herself was a powerful moment because it reflected something that is forgotten. She is human, capable of experiencing the familiar struggles that everyone else does. There are days where she likely doesn’t want to get out of bed and face the critical public. Her fatal mistake may have cost a low score, but it lead to awareness of a gymnastic term called “the twisty’s,” which emphasizes the way someone can lose focus of their routine and potentially hurt themselves, whether at the start, middle, or end of the act. In Biles’ case, it was very clear that she wasn’t able to focus from the jump.
Given that she still was there as a group cheerleader, there’s no reason to believe that she was being selfish. She wanted the best for the team. The response from other athletes emphasized mental health with commentators like Michael Phelps openly discussing his own struggles to focus and push forward. Others highlighted how much Biles had to go through in her own life, that this wasn’t a moment of weakness. If anything, her stepping away proved how much people cared more about her safety than her willingness to push herself into potential injury. It wasn’t worth it. While she came back for one final competition and won bronze, she ended that week as the hero.
Another incredible thing to consider is the parallel accomplishments of Naomi Osaka. While her Olympics story was far less eventful, the lead-up would suggest a similar fate. As a tennis prodigy, whose accomplishments at such a young age have made her an inspiration to Japanese athletes, she had the pressure to be a role model who made a difference.
In the Netflix documentary Naomi Osaka, director Garrett Bradley explores her journey from practicing every day to her slow realization that she needed to focus on other parts of herself. From the backseat of a car as she’s driven to and from practice, she discusses being stressed out, how sad was. For as much as success could make a person look good, it’s clear that deep down she struggled with depression. In a move that gained attention, Osaka pulled out of Wimbledon due to said depression, believing that she couldn’t perform at the top of her game. Many supported her cause, believing that it was the right call regardless of what records she could’ve set with just that extra oomph.
While I am not instinctively a tennis fan, Osaka quickly became someone I admired because of honestness and vulnerability. Sports breed a competitive nature and the need to have confidence is predictable. We are taught to push forward, walk off any pain, and be critical of our failures. There is a need to be the BEST. Some have the capability of pushing through, and good on them. However, it also breeds the toxic belief that those who miss the mark even slightly are failures, unworthy of the love. As Nelly once said “Two is not a winner, and three nobody remembers.” (Nelly, “Number One”)
Biles and Osaka are clearly greater athletes than I will ever be. On their worst day, they can do things that would cause me to gasp from exhaustion. They are clearly committed to their games and that is admirable. I’m happy for their success, but what I realize after 2020 is how valuable it is to step aside for a little bit and take stock of what matters to you. Sometimes you accidentally run on an empty tank, and blowing fumes is not desirable for anyone. Given that this was at Wimbledon and The Olympics, two of the biggest international events, there was a reality that they weren’t only pushing themselves to be number one of a state or country, but possibly the whole world. Can you imagine that pressure?
They each handled it with grace. Whereas another tennis player criticized Biles before taking to a lost match by breaking a racket and throwing another into the stands while yelling (and all for winning bronze by the way), it’s clear what value taking a breather ultimately has. The inability to process emotions leaves some in an aggressive and even self-destructive state. As an athlete, that is maybe the worst thing that one can do.
Being able to discuss mental health leads to a better ability to focus. Being accepted provides a relief that is indescribable.
I cannot speak for Biles or Osaka, but what I can say is that part of the depression for me was trying to hold it inside and failing. It resulted in some negative behavior that left me in a worse state, feeling like it was all that I deserved. I thought too negatively of myself, and it impacted my work even if I had the ability to hide just how miserable I was. There were more days where I didn’t want to leave bed or interact with things that stood to make me happy. I’ve been depressed before, but it’s arguable that this past year was the worst that I’ve had in my life.
Being able to talk about it with family has made it easier to process, if just because it allows for some validation. It makes the idea of imposter syndrome feel less threatening. During this time, I came across stories that in some ways gave me hope. The most noteworthy was Kelly Holmes, an athlete who competed in the 2004 Olympics and did fairly well. In interviews, she discussed struggling with depression and self-harm. Something about it felt groundbreaking, if just because it was one of those times where the stigma around athletes as impenetrable beings on Earth felt broken. The struggle to feel useful was more universal than I initially believed.
I won’t act like these stories changed my life, but they have stayed with me in ways that give me hope that the future is in some ways better. I want to believe that after generations learning to bottle up emotions only to sabotage socially. Maybe Millennials and Gen. Z will come away able to better the world because they choose to listen to problems instead of ignoring them. Maybe there will be better healthcare, a better understanding of when someone is so mentally wrecked not to push them to a breaking point that can cause severe, lasting impacts. As someone still coming to terms with a lot of personal issues, I would be envious of the day when people can get out of this life without some form of trauma.
Another thing that I love about The Olympics this year is how many queer athletes there are. Every day it seems I’ve found new stories about someone who is gay, transgender, or non-binary having a modicum of success. According to an NPR story, there are enough LGBTQIA+ individuals competing that cumulatively they would be the 15th most successful nation at the ceremony. I love hearing stories of athletes coming out, being supportive, and pushing for a brighter future where they can be themselves.
To be completely honest, I want the footnote of this Olympics to be one where things changed. This was the year that athletes were finally allowed to express themselves without any stigma. While that isn’t entirely true, there’s plenty to suggest that Biles and Osaka could be pioneers, able to make future generations feel less scared of being open about their struggles. Part of being a great athlete is having a focused, healthy mind. We could all do with working on that, and hopefully, Biles’ performance allows that conversation to be more than an awkward aside in the history books. Will there be a change? I sure hope so because everyone benefits from having a clear mind not only once in a while, but always.
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