Cronulla, sport and my mental battle

My love of the Sharks has been constant ever since I can remember, it wouldn’t be surprising if my first words were ‘Up, Up Cronulla’.

My battle with mental illness began after losing employment and tuition due to other health problems that appeared out of nowhere. The Sharks have always been a structure for me to lean on in some way or another. I don’t see them the way that most people would, as “just a team”.

They are more then that to me. That encompasses past, present and future players to pull on the jersey.

The Cronulla Sharks might not mean a lot to most people. Even some fans might not need them in their life, but I for one need them and that team means everything to me.

I have been fighting the good fight inside my own mind for years. The constant battle against depression, anxiety and post-traumatic stress disorder, has seen me come to the verge of suicide on more than one occasion. It has cost me a lot of people that I used to call friends as well as alienated myself from the “real world”.

I’ve never publicly spoken about my issues to anyone before and it’s a scary prospect.

Unknowing to everyone around me even the counsellors (apart from one) have not given it a second thought, as to how a sporting team can help someone in a significant way. The one counsellor I used to see always told me “sometimes the smallest things to people can mean the most” and she was referring to my love of sports.

It’s a constant struggle to get some of the most menial tasks done and back-breaking labour to go out and face the world on your own. Even going to the shops was hard, I reluctantly denied free tickets to a Sharks game because of it.

I was always the one being pushed around for not being the biggest or fastest kid in the playground, but no-one ever put in more effort or showed more heart to try make up for it. That’s part of how I connect with the Sharks and probably why I have an unconditional love for them.

Where the Sharks come into being the most important part of my road to recovery is when they play, what seems like a regular season game to most in another ordinary round is something entirely different to me. A Sharks game is never just a game to me, it is 80 minutes of freedom, freedom from myself.

It’s the only time I can lose my mind in frustration or over joyful celebrations. It gives me a vent that I sorely need and crave. I could see a counsellor everyday of every week and it wouldn’t see the same effects as one Sharks game.

The way the Sharks play football with the grinding, dog fight type of rugby league is something I respect immensely.

I feel as though that the way they play represents a part of how I have felt about life while in the middle of a ‘down period’. I don’t ever recall the Sharks having an outstanding team or being considered a true title contender, but that hasnt stopped them from turning up week after week and showing more effort and desire on the field then most of the superstar teams do.

I still have down moments. They come and they go, but they’ll never hang around when a Sharks game comes around again.

If the Sharks don’t give up – why should I?

I believe the Sharks will win a premiership and I will be able to rid myself of this mental torment one day. Until then I will be more than happy to wait under the porch light for Mr Holt to wander down the driveway.

Up, Up Cronulla!