When somebody mentions the word “depression,” the room goes silent. People look around, unsure of what to say, weird glances are exchanged and the conversation is awkwardly forced to carry on. It’s a painful situation for everyone, but no single person is at fault. It’s simply the result of a stigma that we’re constantly surrounded by.
Personally, I used to (and still do) struggle with asking for help; I feared that I would be labeled as weak or as an attention seeker. There was this mysterious guilt that made it feel wrong for me to reach out, especially knowing people who “had it worse than me.” Looking back, it’s clear the majority of that guilt came from the stigma surrounding mental health. At the time, I didn’t want to acknowledge my struggles, so I dangerously convinced myself that I was fine, isolating myself from the resources that could’ve guided me out of that mindset. As daunting as it was, opening up to a friend was the first step that let me receive the help I desperately needed. I’m definitely still recovering, and I have a lot of bad days, but I can say that things feel a bit more hopeful.
Confronting my own struggles has not only benefited my life, it has also opened my eyes to this deeply rooted issue of mental health stigma. It’s especially problematic in athletics, mainly because no one sees the reality behind the trophies and medals. Physical strength becomes so constantly praised that we forget about the importance of mental well-being.
And unfortunately, as a student-athlete, it makes perfect sense. Sports teach us to never give up despite the pain, and coaches encourage us to push harder and harder. Those moments are valuable; they teach us discipline and resilience, but they can also impose a dangerous mindset. We start to subconsciously rebrand emotional vulnerability into weakness, and we set this expectation that mental struggles are meant to be hidden.
Our school has made efforts to address this stigma, but mental health is still viewed as superfluous rather than as a necessity. For many athletes, that mindset persists largely because there’s still not enough awareness about the struggles that get suppressed on and off the podium.
That’s why having a chapter of The Hidden Opponent (THO) at our school matters. Founded by former University of Southern California volleyball player Victoria Browne, THO evolved from speeches from Browne herself about grappling with depression into a national movement. Its mission? To combat and destigmatize the unseen struggles of student-athlete mental health, or in other words, “the hidden opponent.”
At Los Altos High School, this chapter manifests through small ways like hanging up posters, providing mental health support resources and directly asking students about their mental well-being — ultimately encouraging student-athletes to treat mental challenges with the same urgency as a physical injury.
As cliché as it may sound, asking for help doesn’t make you weak. It just means that you’re self-aware enough to identify a problem, and you’re brave enough to work towards a solution.
At the end of the day, we’re all human. Regardless of what people may say, other people’s struggles don’t make yours any less valid. You’re supposed to take up space, you’re deserving of love and care and you shouldn’t be afraid to ask for it.
– Jungsoo
