I’m a very independent person, and some would say a natural leader. (Just ask my parents about the time when I was about five-years-old and insisted on moving into the garage, suitcase and all. Or, about the time around the same age when I broke the brand new TV because I decided to try to move it on my own rather than ask for help.) Needless to say, allowing other people to help me has not been an easy lesson to learn.

I first struggled with mental health as a teenager, and it took a team to get me through that including family, friends, and mental health professionals. Sure, there were lots of “independent” actions that I was responsible for taking, and I also had to take leadership in my recovery. However, it was clear that I was doing a horrible job on my own. I was caught in a loop in my head, and in my heart, between despair and sadness.

It was kind of like I was on the teacup ride at Disney, except I wasn’t allowing anyone else in my vehicle. I was just spinning around, all on my own, in all types of directions, just making myself sick and clearly not really going anywhere. It’s a strange thing being both extremely independent and extremely sensitive.

I needed some serious guidance from someone I could trust, along with a dose of humility to understand that as much as I didn’t like people helping me, I was going to have to suck it up if I wanted to stop feeling this way. In fact, I hated being wrong and seeming weak. But, you could say my life was on the line.

Luckily, people reached out to me. I prayed for strength and encouraged myself to at least try to listen.

It turns out that most people in my personal life couldn’t understand what I was going through. And, how could they? My confidants up until this point were my close friends in high school. Plus, in my circle, the stereotype was that people who went to therapists were “crazy” or “spoiled rich kids” who didn’t have real problems so in essence, they were just whining.

But, that first appointment with a therapist changed things for me. When I left, I felt like I could breathe. I remember sitting in the back seat of our teal Ford Explorer, my parents in the front, and pulling out of the parking lot looking out of the window with the sun shining in. My parents asked me how things went. I don’t remember what I said, but I distinctively remember feeling for the first time in months like I could breathe. I felt, at least for a little bit, like my old self. Now, of course, this was an entire journey that I could write a book on, and maybe I will, but my point is that I had to learn to open doors to my well-being by letting other people in.

And so, I learned early on that mental health is a DIY project.

Most of the athletes I speak with are as used to being on a team as they are to being highly independent problem solvers. When it comes to their sport, they are clear on the concept that there is no “I” in “team.” Beyond the players, there’s coaches, trainers, personnel, etc. Everyone has a part to play. That much is clear.

However, many of these individuals have learned to be highly self-reliant, which can be a block in developing their mental wellness. They learned how to work with their team, but they largely only trust themselves to fix problems.

Even if they have retired or transitioned out of sports, they still carry these values. It’s not that they won’t accept help, it’s that they have trouble asking for it.

Here’s the bottom line:

Mental health isn’t a DIY project. Everyone needs a team in life.

I wrote an article earlier this year about how to ask for help. You can click here to read it.

There are two elements that I think are crucial to this point: Humility and trust.

First and foremost, you have to have the humility to say to someone, “Hey I need help with something.”

Maybe I didn’t say those words as a teenager, but I most definitely expressed that I was really sad and no longer enjoyed life. My emotions, facial expressions, and attitude told the rest of the story.

Expressing yourself takes moving past the mental and emotional blocks that tell you that exposing your weaknesses is a bad thing. It also means accepting that the act of reaching out for support doesn’t mean that you can’t do things on your own or that you’ve somehow failed as a person. All it means is that you’re ready to grow.

Ask yourself: Is asking for help really a bad thing? See what comes up for you.

For example, you can reframe this to guidance = growth.

The second element that quickly follows is the element of trust.  How do you know that the person you go to for help can really help you and won’t be betray you?

You have to be wiling to do the work, but you also want to choose the right teammate. To do this, you’ll use practicality and your gut. Essentially, it’s a try out and you get to choose who makes your team.

My parents chose my first therapist, and luckily I was comfortable with her from the get-go. I couldn’t tell you exactly why I trusted her. It might just have been because she listened to me without judging me and was finally someone objective to my life that I could word vomit all over. I didn’t have to think about or judge what I was saying first or think about her feelings in the matter. It was a safe place where it was all about me and I could be heard.

If you are hiring someone like a coach or a therapist, make sure that you have an agreement that states that what you are speaking about is confidential. Secondly, have a preliminary conversation with them and feel them out. Don’t feel rushed to make a decision either. Would you feel comfortable opening up to this person. These are the types of elements that help develop trust and rapport so that you can do the work to move forward.

In sports, you can’t always choose your team and your teammates, but you certainly can, and should, in your personal life. It doesn’t make you any less independent. You’re still the team leader, just with teammates, you can count on to make you stronger.

Interested in learning more about working with me as your mental health coach? Contact me here for a free introductory session.