Depression is real and I know it.

Usually when I get an idea for a story it takes me about thirty minutes to write it. Whether it’s ever any good or not isn’t up to me decide. I put it out there, without trepidation, and then I get on with the day.

This morning felt a little different. I exhausted all my energy that I had built up from the sleep I just got back and I crawled to the bathroom to get going for a new day. Most mornings I’ll check the papers, what’s trending on twitter and if in the mood, read the latest on the new X-Files series.

Thursday morning was a little different.

Twitter was abuzz with RU OK Day.

And you what that means, right? This piece is about depression, mental health and everything else that goes on within our own heads that nobody else in the world will ever understand or get. Our problems are our own and that, is the problem. We think they’re OUR problems (believe me at some point there will be a link to rugby league which makes this article valid for the81stminute.com).

When I was a kid my dad never told me how anyone died. Perhaps he didn’t need to add the details and maybe the guys that did kill themselves were labelled pussies by their mates. I just never heard it.

Whether we like it or not, there is no such thing as a secret in 2015.

Earlier this year a young bloke threw himself off a bridge but not before posting it online and making sure his ex-girlfriend saw it. He plunged to his death. Which makes me think. The world is crying out for help.

I personally don’t think we can stop it because the internet is the most powerful force in the universe and it will eventually be our creative death.

Pressure and the pressure we put on ourselves, within ourselves, is a fight nobody can help.

All we can do is acknowledge it and hope that someday we aren’t called pussies.

What rugby league can do is nudge it closer to the top of the conversation.

We’ve heard all the heart-wrenching news we can take this year from footy players and how they’ve taken their own lives because they didn’t feel adequate enough or they felt that their presence was enough that their families and their friends were better off without them.

Or that word pressure, how everything means so much, how footy is life’s trophy and the desperation and the fight to get there leaves them so defeated that they just can’t get there.

To say I’ve HAD depression isn’t fair to myself.  It’s still there and I think it will always be there. The best part is that I can keep it at arm’s length because I have so much in front of me and I’m lucky enough to always have something to lean on.

If I was to be brutally honest, and to be fair to this piece, I will tell you I’ve had seven friends (four of them footy players) that have ended their own lives. The outcome is hundreds of friends and family spending the rest of their lives confused and desperate to turn back time and fix that one little moment where they think they could have helped.

What makes this even harder for me is the fact that I’ve lost an uncle and an auntie. Not from depression directly but I know in my heart that we lost them because at one point in their teens they had a serious problem that they just couldn’t handle and coated it in other devices.

And then I think about the person I love the most. I will say that because they are so proud that they think they can fight it with me and me alone. They’re winning but I hope in a few years when we’re the happiest we’ve ever been, they can read this and appreciate how much I care.

Don’t be scared.

You.

Don’t be scared.

@CurtisWoodward1