For most of my life, I’ve given little consideration to the various iterations of “mental” when it is referencing the human condition. The terms I grew up hearing when referring to the word “mental” were generally movie references such as “crazy-house”, “nut-house” or “loony-bin.” In politically correct times they became institution, ward or hospital. It seemed like the medical community in general was conflicted with what it meant and made little effort (my opinion) to promote the fact that it was an illness or even a disease effecting a person brain function. Growing up in the 60’s and 70’s, any reference to being “mental” generally referred to a persons inability to perform or function in a normal manner and aside from a cringe-worthy racial slur, was about as derogatory as it could get. That a person was “Mentally retarded” was a common reference to inflict the maximum amount of embarrassment. It was a term to prove that a person did something foolish or stupid enough to be clearly classified as “retarded”. I admit to using it often—thinking it sounded funny. Later, I dated a girl and didn’t realize she had a mentally disabled younger brother, so every time I said that, she would get mad and cry. I was offered the chance to meet him and then understood how a simple, offhanded remark could cause so much pain and prove how ignorant I was. He had no say in his situation and functioned the only way he could. I have gotten better, but admit, I still slip sometimes if the offense is particularly stupid-worthy, and in my defense “Danny” wasn’t retarded because he acted within his capacity but the stupid person was just that, stupid. I think Boomers were never taught to contemplate their mental wellbeing or what that even meant, and mental illness was portrayed as a legal device to get someone off a murder charge. I also do not recall ever hearing about stress and what effect, if any it had on someone. I was taught you “buck it up” and power through whatever the obstacle. Otherwise, you showed weakness, especially in men, and because everyone was climbing some proverbial ladder, you didn’t dare take a chance to breathe, even though your head was ready to explode. I always reminded myself “it’s only you, it will get better” and accepted the ‘committee’ racing through my head at night was normal.

Simone Biles is the most gifted gymnast—possibly ever, making her routines on the floor, the bars, the beams, really anywhere she can display her gifts, seem almost effortless and super-human. That is until you attempt to project yourself doing it. Even when I was young and a decent athlete, I couldn’t have even hoped to carry her gym bag. A recent phrase has gained global recognition this year, and I think specifically for her and Tom Brady. G.O.A.T. Greatest Of All Time (in their respective sport). No one can, or has, debated this statement for it shows a benchmark no other athlete has achieved. The pride that goes with that statement must be immeasurable, but the mental burden placed on such a young person to maintain that level of performance cannot be comprehended, as least by an average schmuck like me. Imagine, if everything you hear regarding your performances are an expanding group of superlatives. But, God forbid, you have an “average” routine that any other gymnast would be thrilled to receive, but you get a shaking of heads and voiced concern for your future. When is perfect not good enough? Ask Simone, I bet she has the answer to that question. I remember as I heard the comments about her stepping away from the games because she couldn’t take it anymore and wondering how is that possible? She’s been working her whole life for this and she’s quitting? Unbelievable! I had got sucked into our social media universe where perfection is the only acceptable outcome. This had never happened before that I was aware of, which is why it was so difficult to accept, yet oddly humanizing to hear her express what she was going through. Her mental health was struggling to the point she needed to step away from the competition, and to her credit, she did.

I’m 66 and want to live out my life as productive, secure and sane as possible. The pandemic brought a new level of mental anguish to everyone. Being cast adrift in a world that had closed for business and without any type of guide to chart your future course, left me felling spent, tired, mentally exhausted. I am greatful for the Simone’s and Naomi Osaka’s of the world to share their personal mental struggles with the world. It proves that we all need a break sometimes and it is perfectly fine to ask for it. To be human.