Reaching Out: Roller Derby Injuries & Mental Health

When recovering from injury, it’s important to be aware of your mental well-being and take proper care. For myself, I want to break down the whole “reaching out” for help with an injury but also with any mental health impact you might experience while injured. I’m not saying that injuries are synonymous with mental illness or depression, but HEY. It’s a thing for many, and it’s worth talking about.

Often, when you’re going through tough times, people say things like: Don’t forget to reach out. Hey, if you need some help, reach out. You’re injured? Call me, don’t be afraid to reach out.

I have said this before. I’ve heard people say this to me. I’ve heard other people say this to their friends. Overall, it’s intended as a nice statement, it means that the person who says it will try to be there for you when you need it. It’s a respectful space fulness that allows the person experiencing things to contact them whenever they feel comfortable enough to do so. It’s a totally reasonable thing to say to someone.

On one hand, you might just need some help vacuuming your apartment and feel awkward asking a friend to help you out. On the flipside, you might just need to go for coffee with someone because your brain has made you feel like an entirely different person and you have cabin fever and you might totally lose it if you spend one more day with your leg propped up in bed. *cough, cough* Spoken from experience.

So… why is it so hard to reach out? Or, why is it so hard for ME to reach out? I’m going to talk subjectively about this and to be clear, I don’t have a psychology degree, I’m not a social worker, and I have no edumacation on any of this. But I have dealt with depression and anxiety for over half of my life. I don’t often talk about it because I don’t like to lend it weight. I don’t like pity, I don’t like to cause concern, especially amongst those who don’t know me well. I’ve found a number of ways to respond to my situations in the best way possible. My ability to sort myself out is my own business and I’ve developed an overall pro-activity that makes me feel well equipped to weather any storm. It’s taken me years to develop and I am proud of myself for getting where I am currently.

But in recent news, a young skater took their own life due to the difficulty of coping with their current situation. It’s tragic and very sad and is worth educating yourself about (click the subsequent links to Derby Central and Derby Frontier). I felt like talking about mental health seemed timely. And while this isn’t about their specific experience, it really made me think a lot about what it means to “reach out”.

As strong as we can be, injuries and depression are an absolute whirlwind to deal with. This injury sent me through a bit of a doozy a couple of weeks ago. Part of it, I should note, is caused by lack of cardio exercise I can do because of my ankle break, something I consciously incorporate into my life to function as a mild-anti-depressant because endorphins – They be magical.

Mental health is very personal business for some. Which makes sense because for most, there’s nothing worse than getting unsolicited advice from people regarding it. Or feeling pressured into talking about it when you don’t really want to.

While I choose not to talk about it regularly, I understand what these Mental Health Awareness campaigns are all about. Those that encourage TALKING about mental health. There is a relative level of education that the greater public needs to experience to better understand how mental illness affects the people around them, from all socio-economic statuses, genders, sexualities, cultures, and age groups in life. There is a normalization needed regarding mental illness and how we create environments that don’t alienate people when they are not at their most functional or when they are in vulnerable periods of their life.

What is really needed here? I’m careful of these meme’s or posts about how to treat people with mental illness. I think that it sometimes generalizes things too much and fails to understand how people are different with how they seek help and support. It creates a homogeneous response rather than seeing it as potentially diverse and case-by-case. That being said, there’s some basic stuff in those posts that is pretty solid to reference if you’re trying to figure out how to be supportive: Listen to the person, you don’t need an answer to everything, stay in contact with them.

So back to my first question: Why do I find it difficult to reach out when I’m injured?

Part of this is because, while I don’t like to admit it, I’m in a vulnerable state. During this injury, I’ve realized this: While I am physically vulnerable, it’s important to work past believing I may be perceived as weak or unable to cope. Hell, we can back this up and say that even if we’re just feeling depressed and feeling vulnerable, it’s still not weak if you ask for help – that is and always will be a strength.

Photo by TJ Chase Photography

Here’s what I do when I’m experiencing this:

I SAY: HEY BRAIN, THIS IS WHAT IS UP! 
(P.S. These steps are what I use for myself, you are advised to take this with a grain of salt and develop ones that work best for you).

Step 1 – Remember, you are not asking for people to fix you.

You’re asking for people to hang out along the way as you get better. This is not a forever-situation. This is a curve back to your regular (or future), functional self. People that care about one another want to walk with you for a while, it’s normal. Ever read the book, Wild? Think of that as your metaphor, there’s going to be people who want to walk with you for a part of the way. They won’t or can’t be there the whole way. This is your journey and you will get there. Haven’t read Wild? I dunno, go watch the movie trailer and you’ll get the gist: Reese Witherspoon self-exploratory adventure-hike film. Yadda, yadda.

Step 2 – Rollerderby is about being the strongest person you can be. Not a fake strong-person, a YOU-person.

I have trained myself to put my strongest self forward. Said in robot-voice: I am co-captain, must not show weakness. Must give it my all. Must lead by example.

THAT BEING SAID, cut yourself a fucking break, robot-face. You can be strong and that doesn’t mean that you need to hide yourself. The whole facade/character/persona thing in roller derby is SOOO 2009. Part of being strong and in control is knowing yourself and feeling strong enough to communicate where you’re at to the people around you. That doesn’t mean being passive-aggressive or guilt-tripping or having unreasonable expectations of people. Or expecting people to carry you out of the hole you might feel you’re in. For me, it means having big enough ovaries to talk about where I’m at and where I’m going. And it’s all going up from here, my friend, we’re always digging our way up.

Step 3 – Giving People a Heads-up is a good thing!

I have a friend that is extremely open about their mental state and while I don’t think I could be that open about it – I see value in how they approach it. Because it gives your peers and friends a heads-up as to why you might not be out and about. It also helps people not get the wrong idea. To say, hey, I’m not feeling up to it lately, feeling mentally low… But let’s touch base next week. This kind of messaging is a totally okay and normal thing to do for your friends and family. If you’re not familiar with vocalizing these kinds of things because you’re still struggling with coping, that’s ok. Keep working on it. It gets easier over time.

Recently, I talked about where I’m at mentally with a few teammates lately, and it’s totally awesome how understanding people are regarding it and how they shared how they went through it to with whatever previous injury they experienced. OMG, bonding with people is the best. Feeling in common helps the “Am-I-Crazy” question go far, far away to a distant, shitty planet produced by LucasFilms in the mid-2000s.

Step 4 – Your injury and your mental state is not WHO you are.

It does not define the person that you’re capable of being or a permanent state you will be in. Everything in life changes, everything has ebbs and flows. Things go up, they come down. I love this quote that I read a while ago, tough times don’t last, tough people do. When shit really hits the fan, I think of this affirmation. I also like to imagine myself as a rad, old person telling that back to me, and potentially laughing at my young/naive ways (see: older blog post about being the kind voice to yourself that is encouraging…for me, sometimes the voice is a future-me that believes that I’ll get where I need to go). Woo-hoo, getting an inside PEEK on how my brain works! We play roller derby, I’m assuming at least 70% of us are big-time weirdos and I whole-heartedly embrace this.

Step 5 – Reaching out in a way that’s comfortable for you

Take it easy. Take it step by step. Not good at asking for help? Anytime you’re about to say “no” to help, or make an excuse, ask yourself if this is the time you could possibly feel comfortable enough to be okay with it this one time? Maybe? Then take a risk and try it. It gets easier over time, it begins to feel better.

Remember, you don’t even have to mention where you’re at emotionally. Reaching out doesn’t necessarily mean you have to share your life-story. Do what feels comfortable and what feels right with the people around you who are nice enough to be supportive as you work through your injury.

Finally,

Step 6 – Don’t be afraid of professional help

Don’t be afraid of professional help that YOU feel comfortable with and consent to. If things are really taking a turn for the worse and your holistic approaches are not doing it for you, remember, you are a warrior. You are strong and capable and there is no harm in going to a doctor and talking about a process to get yourself back on the right track. Whether that means counselling or taking medication or seeing a naturopath or whatever. You are a strong and beautiful person who is meant for great things. This is one of those terrific challenges that will build you into a future self that will look back at this situation with pride. Remember, it might hurt right now, but you can do this. I believe in you.

…..

Tips for Helping!
Before I wrap this post up, I want to offer some tips for teammates or friends who want to try and help their injured/downed skater.

 Thinking: “This is gonna suck…” | Photo by Bob Ayers

Here’s a roller derby visual for people to understand injuries and mental health and how to help:

It’s a scrimmage scenario. The jammer is the person dealing with depression due to an injury (or otherwise). They are on their own for a lap, trying to imagine the best way to get through what they’re dealing with. They are solo, they have isolated themselves but they know they have to prepare themselves because they are quickly approaching the pack. When they hit the pack, the blockers step in. The blockers can’t “SAVE” the jammer. They can’t solve the situation for the jammer. They can’t remove the opposing players, they can’t alter the environment. But they can help make it easier, they can soften the blow. They can create a situation where the pack is easier to get through. And for those blockers who were able to take a second to look and create an offensive move to screen one opposing player for her, it’s appreciated. The jammer is still doing most of the work. She has to dig in, believe in herself, and keep plowing through walls and big hits. She will get out of the pack. And maybe she’ll call the jam and things are all good for a while. Or she might have to run the gauntlet again. In which case, she’ll need to reach out to her teammates to help her get through the pack again.

There are lots of resources out there on how to help people going through issues. Yeah, some of those meme’s/blog posts I was semi-critical about further above. It gives some tips on how to approach it if you’re totally uncertain or inexperienced with knowing what to do when someone is feeling unwell. Everyone is different, just keep trying to be the best teammate or friend you can be. Learning how to best respond is a process, too!

To close, I just want to mention that I know that many people and women in roller derby who are challenged with various mental health issues whether they are injured or not. If you are reading this, to me, you are a hero when you step on that track. When you wipe those tears from the parking lot to the arena. When you shake it off so you can focus on your team. When you turn your sadness into a proficient competitiveness during practice. I am your biggest fan even on your hardest day because I know how difficult those days can be.

We have the opportunity to create an inclusive environment in roller derby in which we should aim to try to support each other. As a community, we can get better than this. We can build something that is rarely seen in the wider mainstream culture. That’s what makes roller derby so special to me. We are a unique island of how the world could be, and yeah, it’s not perfect and it’s got a suitcase of baggage and drama. But we can do this, we can make better environments. We are those people. This is an area in life where we are empowered and encouraged to be the change we want to see, so let’s step it up and reach out to each other and move forward together. Let’s learn from our past, from our mistakes, our short-comings and work towards change. Grab your teammate, grab yo’ friend.

We’ve got bigger fish to fry, a current hegemony to take down, a movement to keep pushing forward.

Keep healthy, keep well, keep track of yourself.

xo Buffy.

P.S. Thanks to those who messaged me after this post. Ironically, it made me feel super uncomfortable! Which is hilarious. I’m still glad I wrote the post though.

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Take note, if you are in need of immediate help, please contact the following services:

Suicide Prevention: Find a Centre across Canada

Here to Help – Suicide Prevention

Trans help line across Canada: To reach the Trans Lifeline toll-free from anywhere in Canada, dial 1-877-330-6366.
Trans Helpline

Mental Help Line Canada

USA Suicide Prevention Line

Hello!

Sweet jeebuz, who knew what a following Ms. Evada Peron had? More people have visited this blog than I could have ever imagined. Did they even bother reading a thing? Do they hate my spelling mistakes? Who knows!

If you somehow found this tiny blanket fort of roller-derby gems hidden in a corner of the internet then, HELLO. And I hope it’s helpful. And if it ain’t, no sweat. And, happy fort-building as you keep on doing what you need to do.

Follow me on instagram. @buffysaintefury

 

Risks

(Written a few months ago)

The biggest learning outcome I’ve had in 2014 is developing better self respect and boundaries against people who bring excessive or intentional negativity into my life.

I realize the issues of being a person who is inherently a “helper”. There are so many positive aspects of this trait — caring about others, being aware of how your actions impact a group or environment. But when it’s not balanced, the downside might be that you put other people’s issues ahead of your own life or goals, and that you imagine your needs are always secondary – both of which can contribute to low self esteem and insecurity, in some cases even internalized resentment.

Being a helper, for me, means that I find joy out of looking out for other people’s needs and conflicts. I want to help them solve their problems. I want to be that person that listens, because that means I am contributing to their path of moving forward. Where this goes wrong is when I weigh too heavily on only being that type of person. Often this creates a situation where the precedent within the relationship is that I do not often mention my own needs, that my focus is on primarily being a helper. This sets most relationships off on the wrong foot. And it takes me time to trust people to share aspects of myself and feel comfortable contributing thoughts, feelings and emotions… so that I may create better balance between giving and taking within a relationship.

Something I’m still not sure of is why it takes me so long to trust people. But that’s another topic altogether. We all play to our comforts or what we know best.

I want to have goals and I want to feel comfortable sharing who i am with other people — that includes being open about my successes and achievements. So many times I end up alienating myself and I need to feel prouder about who I am and what I’m capable of. I want to not “fall into” jobs but pursue interests and a career that is meaningful to me. I want to believe that I deserve my dreams and aspirations if I work for them, not to silence them due to fear disguised as humility.

Another aspect of looking out for myself and pursuing things, is to not fear failure. To not fear lack of perfection. To not fear times where I did not succeed.

I watched this amazing video about failure and success and the high school education system. The guy used skateboarding as a metaphor and mentioned that skateboarding basically tells you how to deal with trying and failure; and how to turn it into success. Something that isn’t really taught in high school. High school doesn’t teach you what to do with failure. To fail, is an ultimatum. It is the end result, it’s your definitive grade, it’s final. In skateboarding, or any other sport, to fail is normalized. To miss a pitch when you’re up to bat, to strike out; to be off your timing and fail to take the proper steps to make a good strategic play; to fall down after trying a skateboard trick only to get up and try it again. These lessons teach you that failure is a part of the journey toward succeeding.

Roller derby was probably the best thing I could have ever done for myself because it’s helped me overcome my need to be a perfectionist and my fear of failing. I’ve thought a lot about my mentality when playing this sport and how people use these same strategies towards their career or life goals.

I recall someone saying once, to achieve great success you must take risks. No one ever got somewhere else in life without taking a risk.

So despite who I am, someone who appreciates solving things, creating coherent environments, and leans too hard on consistency, I choose risks.

I choose challenges. I choose the fight for success with goals I want for myself.

 

Try Outs

I was late to try outs. I had miscalculated how long it would take for me to drive from my house in Langley to New Westminster. I had never been to the venue before, so I didn’t even really have my route figured out. I remember parking in an area where I had to run past several other recreation buildings with my gear in my arms and my skates in a small cloth bag. To be honest, it was a reusable shopping bag. Not really something you should be carrying sports equipment in.

The notice for try outs had clearly said, “Do not be late”. I was 7 minutes late. Almost forgivable but starting to lean towards the definitive side of lateness. Skater’s were tying up their skate laces, fully geared up, mouthguards stuffed into their faces.

I scanned the arena floor and saw some girls skating around a taped down track.

The woman at the registration desk maintained a vacant, unamused expression. At first I thought she was trying to be tough but then i realized she also reminded me of the bored look I used to get from a parking lot attendant when they were watching me count out change from the ashtray of my car.

Don’t make that face, I told myself, no matter how jaded you get. That facial expression exists between the weird area of middle-aged boredom and slightly constipated.

The girl next to her smiled at me and said she needed take my photo really quickly, to add to my registration forms. I noticed that sulky-face wrote ‘late’ at the top of my sheet before handing it back to me.

Dammit.

I wrote on my forms as fast I could, then began strapping on my gear. Just like hockey, I told myself. My parents repeatedly dropped me off late to practice so I became really fast at getting my gear and skates on. Pretty much as fast as the kids that got there on time. Within moments I had my photo taken against a bulletin board, I held my number in front of me, which they later pinned to the back of my shirt.

By the time I hit the arena floor, all the skaters trying out were standing in a line while the try out coordinator explained what everyone was supposed to do for the first exercise. I skated down the ramp and dropped a knee so i could slide into the end of the line. I felt like everyone was watching me out of the corners of their eyes. It was the same anxiety I felt in high school. The feeling of being late and having to walk across a room while the teacher was beginning their lesson. All the eyes — the amount of noise you could make amongst near silence. I would break into a cold sweat if the teacher said anything snarky to me.

“Nice of you to join us, Miss Harvey,” Or sometimes even worse. They’d ask questions that you’d have to meekly answer in front of everyone else. Questions meant only to shame you. How did delinquents get used to that? How did Shawn the Stoner-Punk saunter into every class with a travel mug filled with coffee (and sometimes bailey’s – swiped from his parents liquor cabinet, of course). Headphones slunk around his ears, hoodie cowled around his neck giving him the appearance of a rebellious punk-monk. No teacher rocked his ambivalence. He had a shoulder shrug and a sharp quip in response to every attack they used to deflate his self-assuredness.

Sometimes, the most zen take on the most unlikely forms.

Channel Stoner Shawn, I thought to myself. This was a mental exercise I used whenever I felt anxious or uptight about things. You don’t care (my mind: duh, actually you really do care). It hasn’t even started yet (my mind: It started 10 minutes ago and they already gave the instructions for the first exercise).

Don’t blush, don’t sweat, don’t care. Just ask the person next to you about what you’re supposed to do.

The skaters next to me were quietly talking to each other.

In my mind, I said it really nonchalantly. Like, hey, man. So what’s next?

In reality, I was having a suppressed panic attack, consciously willing the blood rushing to my face to redirect to my hands, as I was currently wringing my wrists. Subtle.

“We’re doing crossovers around the track. In 2 different groups.”

Cross-overs! Easy. I got this. Nooo problem.

The try-outs continued through a list of skills that were found on a training document online, listing what we could expect to be tested on. During the weeks leading up to try-outs, I practiced everything.

And try-outs were fine. A row of tester’s sat, expressionless and still, only to look up at the skater’s before they looked back down at their sheet. Scribbling quick notes. But even though I felt okay, I have to admit the weirdest part about try-outs is that you don’t skate the way you normally would. You skate extra consciously and carefully. All those times you bombed around the parking lot seemed effortless, but at try-outs you suddenly felt every muscle fiber in your thighs. Lifting your knee became a controlled and overly concentrated movement. Instead of stepping your right skate over your left, you could feel the click of each wheel as it hits the ground. If your brain is a total jerk, like mine is, it will randomly decide to throw curve balls at you during your smoothest moments.  Just for fun. Just to see whether you can psychologically dodge it.

“What if you have a piece of tape stuck to your wheel and you fall?”

“Don’t let your ankle buckle, you didn’t eat lunch and you might feel shaky. OMG remember that time you had to run in gym class in grade 6 and your ankle buckled and you fell flat on your face? Hadn’t remembered that in the last 15 years or so, right?”

“There’s cracks in the concrete, don’t let your skate catch.”

“Don’t lean too far back on your wheels or you’ll fall on your ass. Worst.”

To combat these idiot voices, I had to channel Stoner Shawn. Stoner Shawn could weave through a hallway at school with both shoelaces untied, sunglasses on, while a herd of freshmen roamed by in packs. Stoner Shawn can drink a Big Gulp slurpee while ollying off a curb down the sidewalk.

Dodge. Weave. Keep your head up. Don’t look down.

Despite my own nerves – everything went fine. I mean, try-outs are hopelessly nerve-wrecking so there’s really no avoiding it. I tried to make small talk with the other skaters between exercises. Most people were nervous, too. Or babbled about how they knew everything because they started rollerskating a billion years ago and practiced with raw meat. Some skaters compared gear, all of which gleamed from new-ness. I noticed a few cliques had already cropped up, friendships somehow forming before I could have conceived of the opportunity.

Some skater’s don’t say much, either stuck up or shy. It’s always hard to tell so I don’t spend much time trying to decipher it because I’m not an emotional-cognitive explorer seeking new specimens to apply theories of anti-social behaviour to. I’ve got enough of my own mental short-comings to deal with.

The Scary Part

Oh, you didn’t think this was going to be totally unscary, did you?

Before try-outs were over, they needed to test one last exercise. Jumping. 3+ inches off the ground. Testers began scattering pylons across the floor. They also placed smaller items like backpacks and waterbottles across the track. “Don’t worry,” They said, “You don’t have to jump over the bigger stuff, just use it as a guide and jump beside it so the testers can gauge how high you get off the ground.”

Cue vinyl record screech.

Jumping. Jumping?! Nobody said anything about jumping. I looked around and saw a few other faces looking equally pale in colour. They try-out coordinator quickly saw a sudden shift in our overall tone and chirped, “Don’t worry, you can do it. It’s not as hard as you think.”

Everything became very introspective and intense. My thoughts raced with post-it note type reminders. NOT TOO FAST – because it would be embarrassing to wipe out. Lift your skates, balance your weight, jump! You are a majestic pony frolicking in a meadow! You are a baby kangaroo bounding across the austrailian outback! You are a… knock-kneed giraffe stumbling over legs that are 3 feet too long…

Have you ever seen the movie Fantasia? Remember the part with the hippos and crocodiles? The hippos were the ballerinas and they…were making their best attempt at being graceful.

That was us, the whole onslaught of us. We were Fantasia hippos. In all of our infinite glory.

It was kind of neat though, everyone was very tentative and as we warmed up, nervous laughter subsided and people attempted two foot jumps. I stuck with the one foot-then the other foot kind of jumping. I knew it was kind of cheating, or at least, not as challenging as the other kind of jump. But whatever. I jumped.

At the end of it all, everyone nervously chattered amongst each other as we took off our gear. I didn’t remember anyone’s name. But the girl I sat next to said, “Well, hopefully I see you again sometime!” She smiled meekly, full of hope.

A little over a week later, I got the email. I was invited to join Fresh Meat for the Terminal City Rollergirls. And even though, I thought I knew at the time… I really had no idea what I signed up for.