The following blog post was written personally by the athlete. This is their story in their own words. This blog series is meant to spread awareness of the possible hardships athletes face, break the stigma of mental health in sport, and advocate for better access to mental health services for athletes.
For as long as I can remember, sports and competition always defined who I was. I grew up playing many sports, but by the age of 12 I focused solely on basketball. I was the kid that would stay outside and practice until late at night shooting in the dark with a makeshift spotlight. With the help of a growth spurt (in seventh grade I was 6 feet 2 inches), I began to excel at the AAU national level. Basketball quickly consumed my life and I had begun to envision myself playing at a high level in college.
During a game in the summer before eighth grade I went up for a layup as the opponent hit me from the side. I landed wrong, and that was my first injury. I tore my right ACL and meniscus. I was absolutely devastated and in disbelief. How could this happen to me? I was just seeing all of my hard work pay off. What made matters worse was the doctor told me that I was unable to have surgery until my growth plates closed, which would be almost another whole year.
During that year hiatus from basketball I became depressed. As a middle school male, I would have never discussed this depression with anyone, but it was very obvious to those who were close to me. After surgery and rehab I was determined to get back out there. Six months post surgery I was a freshman starting point guard on the varsity team, playing in my first game in close to two years. Lacking confidence and experience, my freshman year did not live up to expectations. This was very difficult for me. By my sophomore year I started to feel more like myself. Fast forward to the start of my junior year and I was finally back to myself, becoming the leading scorer on the team.
Then, my second injury happened. It was the third game of my junior year during the first quarter when I slipped and fell. I knew immediately that I had torn my ACL again. After having an MRI I was told that I tore the ACL and meniscus of my right knee…again. I felt defeated. I dreaded not only the surgery, but also the long rehab ahead of me. I quickly fell back into a depression. I had the façade of a strong athletic male, but inside I was really struggling with who I was and lacking self-confidence. Basketball defined me, but it was no longer a part of me. I was determined to get back out there. I had surgery 6 months later, and was cleared to play my senior season.
I made it through my senior year without any injuries and planned on walking on to the college team I was going to attend. I trained hard that summer, but then my third injury came. I tore my right meniscus yet again, which required another surgery. Again, I worked hard at rehab and became quite proficient in nursing my knee back to full strength. Basketball was still such a big part of me and I couldn’t think about who I would be without it and what others would think of me. I decided to give basketball one more shot my sophomore year of college. However, it wasn’t long after that I hurt my knee again, requiring microfracture surgery, which was perhaps the most difficult recovery. That was the final nail in the coffin.
Throughout these 10 years, you can see I was always very determined to always get back out on the basketball court. Basketball and myself went hand in hand; I couldn’t fathom who I would be without it. I obviously couldn’t control these injuries and as the sport of basketball was taken from me each time, I obsessed and attempted to control other areas of my life. This negatively impacted my life outside of sports. I tried to be a perfectionist in things outside of basketball (i.e. diet, academics, physique, etc.). It took me many years to be able to vocalize my thoughts and feelings throughout this time and better understand myself. As hard as these injuries were, I was thankful that it happened. It helped me realize that basketball and sports don’t define me as a person. There is life outside of sports, as hard as that is to realize during the whole process. If I could go back and change one thing, it would be how I reacted to each injury. I wish It did not take me to my fourth knee injury to be transparent with my emotions and not to worry that others may perceive me as being “weak” for opening up about the challenges of dealing with sport’s related depression.
-Justin Deeter
Justin resides in Holland Pa with his wife Moriah and son Leighton. He owns a landscape contracting company and also helps out coaching basketball when he can.