Meet Lindsey Kilpatrick

By: Lindsey Kilpatrick | tw: suicide, anxiety

I grew up outside of Syracuse, NY and attended Fayetteville-Manlius HS which was intense in and of itself. This was your typical high pressure high school, where everyone was expected to go to a top 50 university, play a varsity sport, be involved in the arts, have a social life, and frankly, have money to spend on all of these things. Growing up, panic attacks were a common thing among me and my friends, so I never really saw the abnormality of it. Mental health wasn't really discussed because just about everyone was feeling the same pressures, it just felt normal. My junior year, one senior overdosed and another committed suicide in the same week, right before graduation. Since then, there have been far too many more suicides. Just last month, a current student at my old high school took their own life, and the criticism in the community has increased dramatically. I could go on and on about how toxic that culture was. This was the mindset ingrained in my head heading into college: to excel at everything no matter the cost.

My freshman year was pretty typical field hockey wise; I got minutes in every game, never started but wasn't really expecting to. I was a hard worker, had a 4.0, and didn't really cause any drama so I was not expecting my end of the year meeting to be a big ordeal. I was very wrong. My head coach was notorious for knowing how you're actually feeling, and sometimes she even knows before you do. This was one of those times. My coaching staff expressed their worries with my perfectionism and how it was carrying over into my performance on the field. I took this as a personal attack at the time because that's what we were trained to strive for at my high school...not just perfection, but perfection in every sector of our lives. Reluctantly, this led me to the book Mind Gym, which was my first experience with the importance of the mental side of sport, specifically my self-talk. At the end of my freshman year, my coaches said I looked like a different player and a different person. I definitely felt more calm confronting my stress on the field. I remember feeling like the sport had slowed down; that I could see the ball approaching me in slow motion, making decision making on the field come much easier. Although I made this change in my sport, I kept the academic and social pressure on my back.

Fast forward to sophomore year, I started having depressive thoughts every night, and I had no idea what they were. I was terrified to go to bed and would cry myself to sleep every night. I kept debating getting help but I could never go through with it. Then COVID happened and sent us home. About a month into quarantine, my anxiety was unbearable, and I finally told my mom I needed a therapist. I said it was for my "anger on the field" because I was too scared to tell her the real reason, my close family member struggles with severe depression and I saw how hard it was on her. I told myself she couldn't handle knowing 2 out of her 3 kids struggle with mental health; but in all actuality, I was making an excuse for myself as to why I wouldn't share the whole truth. At the end of the day, she’s my mother and will be there for me no matter what, and wouldn’t want me to suffer alone. But I was in too dark of a place at the time to have that type of perspective.

So, a couple of weeks later, I started therapy, eventually got on anti-depressants, and really felt better. I finally felt that I had a grasp on my own brain. Not only that, but everyone around me said I was such a joy to be around, and they could tell I was so much happier. But I knew that my mental health journey would be just that, a journey. It would ebb and flow, and just because I was feeling great then, didn’t mean that I would always feel that way, and that’s okay. 

Then came COVID Spring season. At first I was ecstatic that we could finally play again after our fall season getting postponed. It was an indescribable feeling, having the turf under my toes again, putting on my jersey that had been unworn for too long, and simply being back with my family, playing the sport I loved. But by March, the online learning, practicing in the freezing cold, and (what we would come to learn) the new medication, put me in a deep depression that no one knew about. My love of learning was fading, and my love of field hockey was fading. I was losing myself. But I put on my turfs every day, I brought all the positivity that I had left in my bones to my teammates at practice, but when I got home, I went back into my bed, to watch class wrapped up in my comforter, camera off, and tears in my eyes. This went on for several weeks until the Cal-Berkeley game in March 2021 when I hit my breaking point. I was warming up in my game when suddenly, I felt a panic attack coming. And it happened in front of everyone, in a place where I didn't think my anxiety could reach me. 

I made the hardest decision of my life, to step away from field hockey and school for a period of time, to change my medication, and prioritize my mental health. Professors, teammates, and coaches told me I was so strong, but I felt like the antithesis of this person they were depicting. I was at a crossroads; I could stay home, stop playing, and drop out for the semester until in-person classes resumed, or I could look at the cards I was dealt and make the most of the situation. This was when I found Morgan's Message and the Mental Matchup. I cannot express how impactful it was hearing Kat and Schuyler's stories on the podcast. I finally felt like someone understood. I ended up returning, finished out the last couple weeks of the season and helped bring us to a Stanford upset and the America East tournament.

In just 6-months of introducing Morgan’s Message to UML in the fall of 2021, our chapter has become a support system of over 50 student-athletes. We meet monthly with speakers, and open conversations, to do our part in ending the stigma around mental health. This community is a remarkable support system for athletes as they begin their mental health journey. At times it has been difficult sharing my experiences with a wide audience, but the impact I have made on how mental health is discussed in this community makes it worth it.

Weekly, I have at least three student-athletes approaching me about my mental health advocacy. Some are thanking me for sharing my story because they thought they were the only ones feeling that way. Others were comforted by my transparency because someone in their lives has mental health struggles, and I helped illustrate what that person might be feeling. Most importantly I have helped several people get a therapist and start their mental health journey, being that support I wish I had earlier in my undergraduate career.

As I start my next chapter of my life, no longer a student-athlete, I have an opportunity to redefine myself outside of sport. Before the pandemic, this seemed like a terrifying feat. But now, I know I am more than a student, and more than an athlete. I am a daughter, a sister, a friend, but most importantly, I am a mental health advocate. I am forever grateful for this organization, and hope others use the stories shared by so many student-athletes to start their mental health journey, with Morgan’s Message, and so many athletes on their side.