Light at the End of Darkness

By Collette Herring | IG: @colletteherring

I grew up playing lacrosse. Since I could walk I had a stick in my hand and some of my earliest memories involved me and my dad passing in the backyard. Since I was seven my nights consist of practices and my weekends of tournaments. I was an athlete. That was how I defined myself, and from a young age it consumed my identity. I didn’t know who I was without lacrosse. This way of thinking worked for a while, making me push myself everyday to achieve my dreams of playing at the D1 level. However, I am now a senior in high school, and sharing my story not as an active athlete, but as someone who had to medically retire from the sport that shaped me into who I am today.

Going into my freshman year of highschool I was hit in the head with a surfboard, resulting in a concussion. A month into my recovery I began suffering from a constant pressure in the back of my head. I had an MRI and was later diagnosed with a Chiari malformation which is where my skull didn’t form properly causing my brain to be pushed out onto my spinal cord. For the first six months of my freshman year, I underwent multiple therapies and treatments to relieve the pain, but nothing worked. During this time, I had to sit out of my field hockey season and was unsure if I would be able to play lacrosse. However, in January 2021, I made the decision to undergo an intradural decompression surgery that March. The return to play timeline was about 3 months so I knew I would miss out on my school season but hoped to play in the summer. This period of time was when I first started to experience episodes of depression and anxiety. There was so much uncertainty in my life and I had no way to let my fears out. I was missing school and other events due to doctor appointments and I started feeling isolated from life. I watched my friends have the freshman year experience while I had to attend physical therapy every day for three hours. I thought no one understood what I was going through and felt extremely alone. 

By the end of my freshman year I was cleared to return to lacrosse and jumped back in with my club team for summer. However, I didn’t realize how hard it would be to step back on the field. Because I was out for 10 months, I felt extremely unskilled compared to my teammates. I was slower and weaker than everyone else on the field. I was also scared of being hit the wrong way and going back in my progress. My confidence level in my skills greatly decreased and I put so much pressure on myself that my anxiety got even worse. I overthought all of my mistakes and constantly compared myself to those around me. It didn’t matter that I had brain surgery three months ago or that I suffered from sporadic migraine, I still would beat myself up after every game or practice.

For the fall and winter of my sophomore year I slowly began to regain my speed, strength, and skill and by 2022 fell in love with lacrosse again. I would play everyday in the backyard, using my past to fuel me. I didn’t want to feel like the helpless player I was over the summer and pushed myself to regain all the time I lost. By the time school lacrosse season came around I felt prepared and had high hopes of making varsity. However, after the first week of tryouts I had a meeting with the head coach and she told me I would be on JV for the year. She told me that I still needed time to recover and that I wouldn't be able to contribute to the varsity team. Hearing this was one of the worst things I have ever gone through. It felt worse than the concussion or surgery because I felt that all my hard work and dedication was for nothing. I knew I deserved a spot on the varsity team but because of my medical history my coach placed me on JV. That season I was JV captain, scored 65 goals and had 18 assists. While I still resented my coach, I pushed everyday to hopefully be pulled up to the varsity team by the end of the season. For three months I put my heart and soul out on the field to prove the coach wrong. It was physically grueling, and by mid-April my mental health had extremely declined. My anxiety was getting worse everyday and I felt more depressed than ever. I began to hate myself and didn’t recognize the person I was becoming. I felt like I killed the happy girl who thought lacrosse was her identity. Yes, I still smiled everyday, maintained straight A’s and made people laugh, but on the inside I was a different person. For the final months of my sophomore year I wore a mask of the girl I once was, trying to hide the new me. On the inside I thought I was breaking. There wasn’t a moment that I didn’t think of the past or was stressing about the future. I felt more mature than all my classmates, but at the same time was still missing out on normal high school experiences. Without knowing it, I let my pain control my life and before I knew it the mask I wore started to slip away. My family first noticed my change in behavior and sent me to a physiology team who specializes in kids with chronic pain. I began to talk to a therapist and psychiatrist once a month and learned healthy coping strategies to break my thoughts. Between therapy and developing an understanding of myself and my pain, I slowly started to feel like the girl I was. When summer hit I continued to play with my travel team, and fell in love with lacrosse again. I played better than before and felt confident in my abilities. As a result of the school season my strength and speed were back and I felt like I was finally contributing to my team. I was still struggling with anxiety and depression, but slowly I started to understand the new person I was becoming, and accept my pain. During the summer season I also began the recruiting process, hoping to still achieve my dream of playing D1. I was emailing coaches and attending camps, and for the first time in two years I felt like a normal teenage girl. By the time my junior year started I was in a better place mentally and physically. I felt confident and ready for September 1st, the day that lacrosse recruitment begins, and was excited to move forward with my life. For the next couple of months I learned how to juggle junior year, taking four AP courses, playing field hockey, coaching my youth lacrosse team, and going through the recruitment process. I also started hanging out with a better group of friends and didn’t feel as alone in my struggles. I still suffered with sporadic migraines, but with the help of therapy I was able to take control of my pain and not let it dictate my life. I started to focus on myself and prioritized strength training, which helped me develop the confidence in my body that I had once lost. By the time 2023 came around, I was happier than I had been in a while and finally felt as if I got through the hardest part of my life.

However, on January 14th, a guy blew the stop sign at a four way intersection and T-boned my driver side door. While at the time no injuries were sustained, three days later the constant pain in the base of my head returned. We went to the ER where I was diagnosed with a concussion but no doctors could explain the pain in my head. I felt discouraged because all of my hard earned progress was gone. This period of my life is what I define as the real start of my mental health journey. It was as if the past two years of my life were simply preparing me for what was next.

Despite being in constant pain I decided to play lacrosse. I had put so much work into the sport and I didn’t want my injury to take another part of my life from me. After a week of tryouts I finally made the varsity team. I was so happy because I proved to myself that my pain didn’t have to control my life and happiness. However, about a month into the season I was hit in one of the games and landed on my head. For the fourth time in my life I heard the words you have a concussion, and realized that my lacrosse career was over. At this point in my recovery, playing was too much of a risk to my health, and my headaches couldn't handle the demands of the sport. Quitting lacrosse felt like the end of my life. I didn’t know who I was without the sport and without a goal in my recovery, my mental health severely declined. Before this concussion I always had an end goal, to play lacrosse. It never occurred to me that I might have to stop playing because of my injuries. For the past two years, even at my lowest points I had motivation to keep going. I still had a will to push past the pain and play the sport that I thought was my identity. However once that possibility was taken away I felt lost. I let my pain fully consume my body, losing hope that recovery was an option. 

During this time I also co-founded the Morgan’s Message club at my school. We started organizing the club weeks before my final accident, but when I quit lacrosse I was fearful I wouldn't be able to lead to the best of my abilities. However, the complete opposite was true. I steered all my energy that I once used for lacrosse into this club. I used my pain, anger, and grief to create a safe space where members can help each other. Morgan’s Message saved my life and I soon realized that this club was actually helping me the most. All the members looked up to me to share my story and educate them on the various aspects of mental health. Having a space where I could express my raw emotions helped me in so many ways and I found a group of people who supported me. My motivation to recover came back, but it wasn’t for me, it was for the 50 members of Morgan’s Message. I wanted to prove to them that a sport doesn’t define you, that it is not your identity. For the remainder of the school year I was still in a tough spot mentally. Even though I had goals again, nothing could take away the pain I felt about quitting lacrosse. However, Morgan's Message put me on a different path, one where I didn’t let my history define me and prevent me from experiencing life, but where I used my past as motivation to change the conversations of mental health in my community. 

The past two years have tested me physically and mentally. I thought I was an athlete for the majority of my life, and having to change that image of me was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I want to share my story to not only my community, but to anyone who is willing to listen. I can’t keep my story to myself, and if my experiences can support just one person then I will be happy. My story is not one of suffering or sadness, but rather of resilience. I flipped the script of my life, and chose to not let my pain define me. I have been asked that if I could go back and prevent my accidents would I do it? Of course I would stop the pain and suffering, but I am proud of the person I have become. I no longer define myself by my success in athletics but rather by how much of a help and support I can be to those struggling. I want to share my story to a wider audience and remind people that there is always light at the end of darkness. In my experience, Morgan’s Message was my light, and I would not be who I am today without the foundation. They showed me that I am not alone and helped me cope with my injuries. I hope that my story can inspire others to keep fighting and remind everyone that you are so much more than an athlete.