My Story: Priscilla

As I sat down to reflect on my experiences with mental health, I realize that what I thought were pivotal experiences in my life were more so pivotal reflective points. Instances in my life that within themselves, were so impactful, but really was the opening of continued self-discovery, pain, and change years after. When pivotal moments in life happen, it feels like the biggest thing in the world while you’re in the middle of it, but for me, the most challenging and gratifying parts come with time afterward. 

Where I now sit at 27 years old, 5 years post-college graduation, I look back on the last 6 years with a lot of sadness and exhaustion. Yet, if you ask me how I’m feeling right now or on most given days, I will tell you that I’m tired but that I’m doing pretty well! There is room for both. 

As far back as I have memories, I have been involved with athletics and am very physically active. As a kid, I loved playing outside and getting dirty, and I like to think I still carry that in my spirit with me today. I got involved with travel soccer at a young age, and although there were bumps along the road that made me question why I played, soccer was a beacon of light in my life. As a young girl, I was known to be very quiet and not have much to say, unless I felt it was really important to be heard. I struggled with self-esteem and confidence through most of my life, and still do, and soccer was the one arena I felt confident in and that I excelled in. Sports were really a lifeline for me every day and played a pivotal role in my development and sense of self. Flash forward to high school and college, you could say that I excelled in this identity. In high school, I was an all-state soccer player and track runner, and I eventually went on to play Division I soccer at Stony Brook University. My time at Stony Brook was challenging and incredible in many ways, and I met some of my closest friends during my time there. I am beyond grateful for the experiences I had there, and that I was challenged as a student-athlete to be the best I could be. 

During my junior year preseason, I, unfortunately, tore my ACL in our first scrimmage against Army West Point. I will never forget that game and that moment and everything that transpired following it. I was sidelined for the season and had to have reconstructive surgery. That entire process and the months that followed were grueling—and what’s funny now looking back is that it doesn’t even seem like it was that bad, because of everything that happened in the year afterward. But, during that recovery process and getting back to health, I was in a very very low place. As I said earlier, soccer was a lifeline for me and my sense of identity. During those months following surgery and not even being able to do basic things on my own, I questioned everything about myself. Will I get back to normal playing, am I worth anything outside of my athletic success? Do my teammates even care about me since I can’t play and produce on the field? It was really tough…All I could do was dedicate myself to my rehab process similar to how I’d approach a practice or a game. I had to give it my all and hope for the best in the long run. 

Within the 3 months after my surgery, both of my divorced parents decided to move out of the state I grew up in, New Jersey. My mom moved to her native central California, and my dad moved to Hartford, CT with my stepmom. At the time it didn’t feel all that bad because I was living at school and consumed in my college lifestyle, but damn that was like having the carpet ripped out from under your feet. While trying to recover from surgery, my home bases were changed, and I felt like my sense of direction was really thrown off. Although so much was changing and I was having a really difficult year, I couldn’t be more grateful for the love and support I received from my friends and family. 

6 months after my parents moved to different states, and when my knee was just about ready to get back into play, I received a phone call I’ll never forget. My mom called me while I was in the car driving to a friend’s house in New Jersey. “Where are you right now?”, “driving, what’s up?” “Can you pull over?” “…okay I’m going now…what’s going on??” “Tell me when you’re pulled over” “Okay I’m pulled over.” 

“…Daddy has died.” 

In those 20 or so seconds it took for me to pull over, the entire world of possibilities was running through my head. The first thought was that my grandpa, mom’s dad, had passed. But no, my own dad was gone in a flash. I was in complete shock, and I can’t fully remember what happened or what I said, but I know that I screamed and yelled in disbelief. What the hell was going on? My precious dad, at the age of 64, was dead. He suffered a massive heart attack. 

I try not to focus on this specific aspect of the day, but one of the worst things that happened after hearing this news was on the drive back to my friend Mikey’s house. I was in distress, bawling my eyes out, but I was determined to get to my destination. I was driving on Route 1 in New Jersey, and at that moment, it hit me like a ton of bricks that if I ever get married, my dad won’t be able to walk me down the aisle. I absolutely lost it. A car passed in the lane next to me with two guys in it, probably around my age. They saw me crying in distress, and they pointed and laughed at me hysterically. I remember at that moment having the urge to swerve over and hit them with my car, and I’m grateful that some higher power kept me from doing that. Thankfully I made it to my destination. 

My dad was such an incredible and complicated man who experienced so much in his life, and I miss him so much. He loved me and my siblings so much, and he was always so proud of us in whatever we set our minds on doing. I miss his unconditional love and support beyond words, and I know there is always going to be a piece of my heart missing with his passing. I’ve come to accept that as the truth. 

In the years since his passing in 2015 and since I graduated from college in 2016, I’ve been in a consistent struggle to find peace. I am grateful that I was able to pour myself into soccer when I lost my father because I really needed it at the time, but I also think that delayed my grieving process. In the first 2 or so years following the loss, I was in survival mode and just doing whatever I could do to get by and stay motivated. The real work on myself didn’t begin until after that and continues to this day. When I graduated from college, soccer ended in the snap of my fingers. At first, I was upset because my final season ended in a really sad way, but in the 2 years following the end of my playing career, I realized it was so much bigger than that. It wasn’t about soccer itself—it was what soccer represented in my life. As I’ve come to learn in the last few years, I am an incredibly anxious person, and my anxiety affects my attention as well. Not only that, but I had literally poured my time, effort, and love into soccer for 15 years. 15 years is a long, long time, and then for that part of my daily life to just be done, it was really hard to comprehend and accept. I still don’t accept it, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish I could still play professionally and make it my career. 

As someone who suffers from pretty consistent anxiety, it’s only now that I realize how important sports were for me. I really struggle with ruminating and overthinking decisions in pretty much every area of my life, and soccer served as that special arena where I didn’t have to think too hard, in fact, I had to think and act quickly, usually off instinct, and it was a special state of flow that I entered whenever I had the ball at my feet. It was the one area of my life where I didn’t get stuck mentally. Soccer is truly a magical sport. 

Fast-forward to the present day, I have been in regular therapy for 3 years, in which I’ve been able to address many of the anxious tendencies and behaviors I engage in. I have also been able to process so much of the pain and shock that resulted from losing my dad unexpectedly, and I am beyond grateful for the progress I’ve been able to make on myself since 2015. So much of what I am inspired to do has been shaped by my experience, and I look forward to helping as many people as I can along their specific journeys. In May of 2022, I will graduate with my Master’s in Counseling Psychology from Temple University. My master’s level internship that I am about to begin is at a private practice where I will have the ability to work with athletes on combining the mental aspect of their game with their raw talent to maximize their performance. In the future, I hope to work with college and high-level athletes as they navigate their sport and everyday lives to show up every day as their best selves.  

While I will never be grateful that I’ve endured certain things in my life, I am grateful for the strength I’ve found in myself to persevere through them, and the desire they have instilled in me to help others.