“Trust thyself,” Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote in his famous essay, Self-Reliance. Although nearly two centuries old, that sentiment remains the psychological north star for elite athletes worldwide.
Success in sport requires talent, work ethic, and financial support. However, even the muscular wisdom of ten thousand hours of practice fails under pressure if confidence is in short supply.
But there's a dark side to the kind of unwavering belief that drives these elite performers. Last week, HBO released The Weight of Gold, a documentary investigating the mental health challenges Olympians face in pursuit of their goals.
In the film, Michael Phelps talks openly about his battle with the depression and suicidal thoughts that accompanied his career, especially during the public relations catastrophe that followed his second DUI. Other household names like speed skater, Apollo Ohno, snowboarder, Shaun White, and figure skater, Sasha Cohen, all share similar struggles.
It’s not until late in the film that Phelps answers the obvious question hanging in the air—why didn’t you just talk to someone? “Our conviction that we [can] make ourselves unbeatable, if we just work at it,” he says, “our belief that there’s no way we should ever need help.”
As a two-time Olympian and silver medalist at the 2008 Beijing Games, I relate to this kind of toxic thinking because it led to intense anxiety during my own career.
I hid it well in the early years. However, in my debut match in 2004 in Athens, a panic attack overtook my mind, leaving my body frozen and helpless against a veteran opponent. It didn't end well.
Malaise and melancholy followed. And from that point forward, I threw myself into a quest to regain my edge, consuming psychology books and self-help seminars. Chief among my tactics was the constant repetition of a phrase cribbed from the motivational giant Tony Robbins, "everything I need is within me now."
I also saw a sports psychologist but steered our conversations toward safe, performance-oriented topics like goal-setting and visualization. The real problem, an intense fear of sex and intimacy, was for me to solve. I thought no one else could help me with that.
Sadly, this allergy to assistance is commonplace, especially among men. From early in life, boys learn that manhood is an independent struggle. When we enter the workforce, the "rise and grind" philosophy of hustle culture only reinforces these norms.
Studies have shown that, compared to other traits associated with masculinity like risk-taking and pursuit of status, self-reliance is the strongest predictor of poorer mental health. It also stands out as a risk factor for suicidal thinking and is associated with lower counseling use.
And it’s killing us, literally. Four out of the five suicides mentioned in The Weight of Gold involve male Olympians*. According to the CDC, the suicide rate for males is 3.7 times the rate for females.
My wakeup call came after the 2008 Olympics. Even after winning a silver medal, I felt only the weight of shame around my neck and a dark path ahead. Rather than accepting my isolation, I decided to finally confront my issue by opening up to my dad, then entering therapy.
The empathy of others taught me to quiet the critic’s voice in my head by treating myself with kindness. And now I navigate life with the belief that vulnerability is not weakness, but strength.
The first step to healing is difficult, but within every person’s grasp: talk to someone you trust. There’s no better time than now because, as Emerson also wrote, “nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind.”
A note about The Mandate Letter
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Footnote:
*The nature of Olympic bobsledder Steve Holcomb’s death in 2017 remains unclear, but he had attempted suicide ten years earlier.