NAMIWalks 2024

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There are no periods in my story…only a semicolon because my story isn't over.

I have shared my story ad nauseam, but as we continue to diminish the stigma surrounding depression, suicide, and mental health, I still find it essential to continuously share my struggles.

Why?

You don't know what other people are going through and how your story may help them survive their darkest moments.

I've long been an outspoken advocate for mental health and men to openly share their mental health struggles.

I was diagnosed with depression at 16 after spending a year on Accutane to clear up my horrible acne. I'd like to blame my depression and hair loss on Accutane, but I think I was predisposed to mental health issues.

I was a shy kid growing up. I was quiet—an introvert. I don't think people in my family knew how to handle an introverted kid. For a long time, I thought there was something wrong with me.

As I grew older, depressive episodes became more frequent. In high school, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my life, but I knew going to parties, or big gatherings weren't my thing. 

In college at Southern Miss, I tried joining a fraternity. That wasn't my thing, either. I would find solace and acceptance in my career choice - working in sports.

However, my career choice did not help my mental health struggles. In actuality, my job probably exacerbated my issues more.

One of the best places I worked at in my career was Baylor University. The four years we spent in Waco are some of the greatest in my life. However, when I worked at Baylor, I endured workplace bullying that wasn't encouraged by my boss, but it wasn't stopped either. Two coworkers would continuously pester and pick on me, maybe because I was an easy target. People would tell me it was because they were jealous of me, but I will never understand if and why people would be jealous of me. I don't think that possibility exists.

I find it ironic, however, that the place where my mental health went to shit was at a religious university that supposedly taught love. But, I felt anything but that when I was there.

While at Baylor, I noticed my mind and my demeanor changing. I wasn't liking who I was becoming. I was spiraling. When I began sharing my mental health issues on social media, I was told by my boss to keep them to myself because "no one wanted to hear about them." I remember being told that telling people I was depressed was my way of seeking attention.

In 2011, just months after the birth of my son, I had a mental breakdown. The weight of my job, the office politics, and being the dad of two became too much for me. That year, I saw a therapist for the first time. Since then, I've seen a therapist off and on for 10+ years.

Two years after leaving Baylor, I had my first anxiety attack. It was hours before I was to receive the 2014 CoSIDA Rising Star Award, and I was having a panic attack because I knew those Baylor coworkers would be there, and I had overheard the things they were telling other people in the days leading up to the award ceremony. That treatment scarred me. I was ashamed.

Weeks after walking into that award stage, I left my job at the University of Miami for what I thought were "greener pastures." I soon found out that it was both the worst and the best decision I could have made. I would take a senior-level position at Georgia Tech, but I was unaware I would be walking into the lion's den. I inherited a staff who was disgruntled and did not like how things before my arrival had panned out (and rightfully so). However, what I was not expecting was the head football coach's disdain for me, which presented its problems. I insulated myself by lifting my younger staff to give them the chance to work football full-time.

At the time, I thought it was the right decision. Even now, I still think it was the right decision, but there were some hurdles I could have navigated better.

After two stressful and anxiety-riddled years at Georgia Tech, I learned during my first and only annual review that I would not be retained. It broke me. I felt like I had let my family down.

Quite honestly, I didn't want to live after I heard I was being discarded. I would endure almost nine months of unemployment while going back to school for my Ph.D. - all in hopes that I could salvage my life and provide for my family.

2016 was a dark year.

Since leaving Baylor and enduring the ups and downs in the college sports business, I've made it a point to be more vocal about mental health awareness and advocacy. Every year, I raise money for NAMI to support mental health services in our state. I know thousands of people do more for mental health than me, but we all play a role in destigmatizing mental illness.

On World Mental Health Day in 2019, I felt like I had overcome some of my demons because I became Dr. Chris Yandle after successfully defending my Ph.D. dissertation. It was the longest journey that I didn't think would ever happen. Once I heard those words, I felt like my story was complete.

But 2020 and 2021 proved it wasn't.

I was given a chance to share my mental health struggles with Craig Melvin on TODAY. In that interview, not only was I sharing my #DadLunchNotes journey, but I was also sharing my mental health journey from hell and back to get to this point.

I'm not ashamed of what I've battled and what I've overcome. We must prioritize our mental health every day.

If it weren't for the bullying at Baylor…

If it weren't for my leadership failures or lack of self-awareness at Georgia Tech…

If it weren't for losing my job and enduring nine months of employment…

If it weren't for Ashleigh pulling me out of the depths of my deepest depression and silencing those suicidal thoughts…

If it weren't for Addison's anxiety at school and me writing her that first #DadLunchNotes message…

I wouldn't be here if any of that hadn't happened.

Now, I am grateful that my boss at Georgia Tech fired me. I don't hate him anymore.

Now, I am grateful to those Baylor coworkers for bullying me because now I have the power and confidence to call out those who bully others.

Now, I am grateful for the times when I almost ended my life. I am stronger for it. I am stronger for my wife. I am stronger for my kids.

There are no periods in my story…only a semicolon because my story isn't over.