Hello, Adversity Weekly Roundup #15 - May 13, 2023
Hello, Adversity Weekly Roundup #15 - May 13, 2023
Drew Robinson's second chance, my reflection on an important anniversary, the advice that helped launch Oprah Winfrey's career, and how Warren Buffett conquered his fear of public speaking
Happy Saturday everyone!
Welcome to the 15th edition of the Hello, Adversity Weekly Roundup.
It’s hard to believe that it’s already mid-May. Hello, Adversity is now almost four months old, which blows my mind. Time flies.
Mid-May also marks a less pleasant milestone: the one-year anniversary of my last fall. Although I’m glad I no longer have to worry about my legs giving out from under me, the fall brought about life changes that—although long overdue—took a while to accept. I will talk about that a little later.
May is also Mental Health Awareness Month in the United States. It is a month dedicated to advocacy, awareness and fighting stigma. Every May, stories are written to help bring visibility to mental health conditions and let people know about available resources.
These are important stories to tell, because mental health issues affect us all, whether or not we care to admit it. Chances are you are struggling, or you know someone who is. Then there are all the people around us who suffer in silence and hide their pain from the world. This number is far higher than we realize.
I get why it’s hard to share; I’ve been there. Opening up about our struggles and challenges is difficult even if we were guaranteed to receive support and kind words. But in this world of hot takes and armchair psychiatrists, sharing our struggles can leave us vulnerable to criticisms and judgments that make us feel even worse. People think they understand us when they haven’t spent a second in our shoes.
These stories are hard to tell, but the effort is worthwhile. For every one detractor, there are ten people who will resonate with what you are going through. Some will tell you personally; others might not be ready, but are nonetheless appreciative that they are not alone.
The first link below is a story that I almost didn’t include, because it’s not an easy story to read. But it’s one that is too important not to share. Drew Robinson is a former Major League Baseball player who attempted suicide in 2020. As you’ll see, Robinson’s story runs the emotional gamut—heart-wrenching, tragic, yet also hopeful and awe-inspiring.
It is a story that will stay with you.
Disclaimer: Before you click on the link above, or on this excellent ESPN profile of Drew Robinson from 2021, know that this is not an easy story to read. It involves a suicide attempt, and the details are graphic. If you decide not to read it, you can read my summary below.
But, if you do decide to read it, I think you’ll understand why Robinson’s story strikes a chord with so many.
For those unfamiliar with Drew Robinson’s story, he was a former Major League Baseball player for the Texas Rangers and St. Louis Cardinals who attempted suicide in 2020. Robinson struggled with depression and despair for many years, feelings made worse by the isolation of the COVID lockdowns.
Alone with his thoughts, Robinson decided to take his own life, even going so far as to meticulously plan out the details days in advance. He followed through on the attempt, but somehow—in what was described as a medical miracle—he survived. Although disoriented and in extreme pain as he drifted in and out of consciousness, Robinson realized that he wanted to live.
His rehabilitation took several months. He lost his right eye, but gained something far more meaningful: purpose.
The following year, Robinson resumed his baseball career, and played in a handful of games before retiring on his own terms. Robinson is now a traveling mental health advocate for the San Francisco Giants, speaking to players in their farm system about available mental health resources and how to ask for help.
Robinson freely admits that he hid his pain from his family and friends until it was too late. His goal now is to ensure that others don’t follow the same path.
Through his public speaking, Robinson has seen up close how his mental health journey resonates with audiences. The depression, the anxiety, the feelings of self-doubt and worthlessness—these are issues we all face to some extent.
Says Robinson:
“Because my story is as public as it is, and I’m known for that more than my baseball career, I get to really hear and see and talk about the whole makeup of a person, and realize that whoever I’m talking to – baseball player, company CEO, whatever – there’s a lot of, ‘Me too,’ said and a lot of, ‘I felt that, I’ve felt similar.’
“You can’t achieve your way out of these things. We’re all human, we all feel the same chemical reactions that create stress, worry, regret, all these things. … That’s why I think that empathy card and love and that relatability card is so much stronger and so much more prevalent than we’re aware of.”
Robinson’s newfound purpose is to normalize conversations around mental health. His takeaway message: Don’t feel ashamed to share your pain. Don’t be afraid to reach out for help.
As I mentioned earlier, this week marks an important milestone for me: the one-year anniversary of my last fall. But May 11, 2022 represents another milestone: the one-year anniversary of the last time I walked. Although I avoided serious injury, I was forced to accept that walking—even just a few baby steps—was getting too dangerous.
I wrote this post on my Sidewalks and Stairwells blog in the aftermath of that fall. The accident ushered in rapid life changes that threatened to overwhelm me, and I needed time to process what had just happened. I decided to take a week off, which afforded me the proper time to reflect on that day. Even a month later, I was still feeling down about what had happened. I was still in pain, mentally and physically.
I re-read this post last week, since I knew that the anniversary was coming up. Sometimes when I go back and reread old posts, I cringe at my primitive writing voice. But this is one I am still proud of. It still holds up. It captured my unfiltered emotions and thoughts at a consequential time in my life. It also conveys some of the emotional challenges inherent in a disease defined by physical decay.
Last Saturday, Oprah Winfrey gave the commencement address at her alma mater, Tennessee State University. In her speech, Winfrey recounted how her TV career almost never got off the ground. Although she had done some radio work on the side, she was planning to become a teacher. One day, she got a call from a news station in Nashville interested in bringing her on as an anchor.
She almost turned down the role, until a professor set her straight:
"He said, 'this is what you get an education for. So that CBS Channel Five will call you.
Thankfully, Winfrey heeded her professor’s advice. Although she would encounter ups and downs in her career before becoming a household name, she always believed that she belonged in the industry:
"At no time did I ever feel out of place or not enough or inadequate or an imposter," she said. "Why? Because I knew who I was."
Sometimes, life presents opportunities that come out of left field, or that go against the expectations of authority figures in our lives. Winfrey’s father had a vision for his daughter that didn’t involve a TV studio. Taking the road less traveled or deviating from a carefully-constructed plan can be anxiety-inducing. But sometimes, it is the best decision to make in the long-run.
I was talking with a friend the other day about her upcoming speaking engagement. She was feeling nervous about her talk. Although she is an accomplished writer, public speaking is not her strong suit.
I told her that her feelings are normal—everyone gets nervous. Very few people enjoy public speaking. There’s a reason people fear it more than death. Even people who enjoy speaking hate it at the same time. For example, I’ve given a lot of talks in my day, yet every time I go up on stage and see all the faces looking back at me, part of me wants to flee in the other direction.
It’s also helpful to remember that all accomplished speakers needed years and years of practice before they became eloquent. The discussion with my friend reminded me of a story I once read about Warren Buffett, how he used to be so afraid of public speaking that it would make him physically ill.
It wasn’t until Buffett attended a Dale Carengie course (after bailing on the first attempt) that he finally conquered his fear of public speaking:
"In my office, you will not see the degree that I got from the University of Nebraska. You will not see the master's degree I got from Columbia University. But you will see the award certificate I got from the Dale Carnegie Course," Buffett said in the HBO documentary, Becoming Warren Buffett.
This article has some helpful tips about conquering one’s fear of public speaking. One tip I would add: as soon as you get to the front of the room, tell the audience you are not a natural public speaker. If you do that, everyone will instantly root for you to succeed.
If you have a story you’d like me to include in a future newsletter, please email me at HelloAdversity@substack.com or drop a comment below.
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Gosh, Chris - such a thought-provoking post. I'd love to wish you a happy anniversary for that milestone of time since your last fall, but of course that would be bittersweet given its associated milestone. I've just read your 'Now What' post on your blog, and gosh again.
Yet my takeaway is that there is such confidence in your words, and that it's directly related to the vulnerability you're expressing. And that is managing adversity in a nutshell.
Awesome.