when grown men cry

Robert Enke, the German national soccer team's goalkeeper, committed suicide two days ago, and ever since, the television has been on a lot in our house. Of course Toffi is following the news not only for personal interest reasons, but also because he works in sports journalism. I have to say, though, that it's been an overwhelming story for us. All of the macho men from German soccer have been breaking into tears at press conferences and in interviews. Enke's fellow players aren't giving interviews yet, understandably. His wife participated in a press conference less than 24 hours after his death, something I couldn't imagine doing. I suspect she wanted people to realize that soccer players are people, too, but that the professional soccer establishment puts a lot of pressure on its stars to fit into certain norms. And severe depression, with the self-doubt, fear, anger and sadness that accompany it, just doesn't fit into those norms. Enke was afraid of checking himself into a clinic because he thought child services might take his adopted daughter away from him if it became public that he suffered from depression. He had huge fears of failure. Soccer wasn't merely his vocation - it was the only thing that could really distract him from all the darkness that surrounded him. He deceived his therapist and family in recent weeks because he didn't want anyone intervening with his plans to commit suicide. It pains me to hear and read about his story; the empathy I feel for Enke scares me a little and makes it a little tricky to push away my own dark clouds. But I see a glimmer of hope, because when I see those soccer bigwigs cry, when I hear their words on the subject, I think to myself, "They really get it." Something got through to them, and I hope that their discussion of Enke and of depression in general will help get the message out that depression is real, that it destroys lives, and that society has a lot of catching up to do in terms of accepting people with mental illness.