Life’s Too Short
By: Mallory Martel
IG: @mallorymartel
Something my mom would always say to us growing up is “life’s too short”. I never understood the true meaning of that phrase until I started college.
To make a long story short, I love lacrosse. I fell in love with the game when I was 8 years old and it has been a passion of mine ever since. I played competitively for a club team, played on a ranked team for my high school, and knew I had what it took to play at the highest level, Division 1 Lacrosse. I played for the Sun Devils and am currently taking my bonus year at Clemson. I am so thankful for my time at ASU and I couldn’t be more excited for what’s to come at Clemson!
However, it was not a picture perfect journey. There were highs, there were lows, and it’s still a process, but these moments are what made me the person I am today: stronger and more resilient than ever.
Recruiting was a big stressor in my life during my early teenage years. This was before the rule change when girls were getting recruited at 14….yup, you heard that right, 14! I didn’t even know what I was gonna wear to school the next day, let alone pick the college and major that would set me up for the rest of my life.
I think that’s when my anxiety started. (Knowing what I know now, my advice to getting recruited; everyone’s journey is different! Be patient with yourself.)
The pressure of being recruited plus starting high school was just the beginning of what was yet to come. I had struggled with anxiety in high school about this idea of perfection. It carried on with me through undergrad.
Fast forward, I am a freshman at Arizona State. It is year two of the lacrosse program and I am excited to see what I am capable of on the field, but damn, I am pretty far from home. I missed my family, my friends, and being in the same time zone as everyone. I was home sick. It was a hard adjustment and I knew it would be, but I love adventure. Just like I love lacrosse. This was a new adventure I was willing to try.
The year goes on, and as a freshman student-athlete you tend to question a lot of things. Am I playing well? Should I go out tonight? When is my paper due? Do I fit in? A million random thoughts start to build up. You become pretty tired as you are trying to balance your sport, social life, academics, and appearance all while trying to be “perfect”. (News flash: perfect doesn’t exist and that’s okay! It just takes time to realize that.) I go home that summer and enjoy time with my family and friends. Before you know it, I’m back at school. Year two and the same feelings come rushing back. Away from home, tougher classes, more pressure, trying to be “perfect”.
I felt a weird shift in my sophomore year at Arizona State. Academically, it was my hardest year. I have always been a worrier by nature but something did not feel right. Not much of an appetite, super tired but couldn’t sleep a lot, and just overall fatigue. Because I couldn’t take care of myself physically, I was mentally drained as well.
I remember the night when I realized I needed help. I still get knots in my stomach thinking about this day but a weird part of me is thankful it happened.
My younger sister Abbey, only 16 months younger than me, came to visit in February. We had the best weekend together, good eats and great laughs but something still didn’t feel right.
Going to bed that night was so unsettling. I was on the 13th floor of my apartment at the time, spooky to begin with, and heights have always freaked me out a bit. I normally would lay on the outside of my bed further from the window because reasonably, that’s terrifying. But since Abbey was in town, I took the window side.
Tossing and turning all night lead to me being in my thoughts. From there, it was from one bad thought to another. I was catastrophizing. Freaking out of every little thing. From school, to how I look, how I have been playing, what I’m eating. I walked into the kitchen, about 50 feet away, to see if I could just take some time to myself and regroup.
Alone, in the dark, at 3:00 am, I began to panic. I have never experienced a panic attack before, but let me tell you, it is something I do not wish upon anyone. My heart was racing, shortness of breath, I began to sweat. I felt trapped, I felt lost, I was hysterically crying.
I felt guilty. I have the best family, coolest teammates, living my dream, in the most beautiful place and I wanted everything to end. I couldn’t handle the pressure I had placed on myself and I finally broke down.
Abbey comes out to check on me frantically. She calls my mom and tells her everything that happened. My mom is 2000 miles away. I will never forget the tremble in her voice as she is talking to Abbey as I cry in my sister’s arms. I needed help.
My mom had told me I needed to tell Coach or she would reach out to him. I felt weak but like any other day, I got up, I went to practice and pretended like nothing happened.
The field is where I was able to be my true self though my sophomore year. Lacrosse was going fairly well and I was on pace to set career records. It was like an escape. But something about the night before carried over at practice.
As we were playing, I just remember I broke down in the middle of the 8. My teammates were concerned and confused and then called my coach over. He walked off the field with me and told me to breathe. I sat out the rest of that practice sobbing on the bench.
We talked after practice and I laid everything on the table. He seemed shocked when I told him everything. He said he had no idea I was struggling. And the more I think about it, I don’t think many people knew. My close friends knew to some degree I was struggling or just acting differently but I don’t think they knew the severity of it because I was so ashamed to tell them.
It’s a scary thing to experience but you have to tell someone.
After that morning, an outpour of messages from my teammates, friends, coaches, and family were waiting for me. “It’s gonna be okay, Mal and we are here for you no matter what. You are so loved”.
It’s true. You are so loved. Every single one of us is so loved. Even if you are struggling, you are loved.
Looking back, there is nothing to be ashamed of. I had the courage to tell someone I needed help, even if it was at my breaking point. That takes a lot. Being vulnerable is tough but it is so important. Vulnerability is not winning or losing: it’s having the courage to show up and be heard.
My parents were able to come into town the next week. I couldn’t thank them enough for being by my side when I needed them the most. Having my mom and dad with me during the scariest time in my life meant the absolute world to me.
Then, COVID hit. I fortunately was not impacted by COVID and was able to go home the remainder of the semester. Lacrosse was canceled and I was extremely bummed about that but, I was finally able to put my mental health first.
I grew tremendously in those months. I got into therapy, and I consulted with my athletic trainer (who I am beyond thankful for everyday), my teammates checked in, and my family was there for me. It took hard work, patience, and grace to get me where I am today.
Everyone matters. Every student, every athlete, every person matters. I learned that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Storms don’t last forever. This too shall pass. But most importantly, life is short. It is too short to not take care of your well-being and your mental health. Lean on your people, use your resources, but most importantly ask for help.
Coaches, administrators, trainers, whoever they are in relation to the athlete, they do not want you to struggle in silence. They are there to help. And more than willing to help too.
I share my story to hopefully help others know it’s okay to not be okay. Mental health is a deep passion of mine like lacrosse. And just like lacrosse, it’s about progress not perfection.
I want to use my platform to tell people that life is short but it’s worth living. You matter, your story matters. We need to shine more light and have more unashamed conversation to break the stigma.
You are never alone.
