Trigger warning (Content Warning: Suicidal thoughts, suicide mention)
A lot of cool things happened in 2013. I went to the Honda Battle of the Bands, graduated high school, went to TNA Hardcore Justice, started college, and marched in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade with my college marching band. That was also the year I really started to suffer from depression. How long the depression had been present before this point remains unknown, but I know that the end of my senior year of high school was rough. I chalked it up to “senioritis”, to knowing that I’d be departing for the greener pastures of college soon. Looking back, the constant fatigue, low appetite, and random feelings of listlessness were definitely symptoms of depression.
Ignoring the symptoms was fairly easy. After all, there was plenty to keep my attention occupied with graduation, starting college, and marching season. There was also plenty of wrestling to keep my mind off things as well. A lot of you know that I’ve been a wrestling fan since I was a little girl. My room always had pictures of my favorite wrestlers, mostly cut-outs from the magazines. I’d taken a bit of a hiatus from WWE in 2009, choosing to focus on other promotions, but I’d been coaxed back into it through a few friends.
And then The Shield debuted.
At first I was taken aback by the abrupt appearance of three guys in black turtlenecks interrupting a match. I knew Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins, having followed the careers of Jon Moxley and Tyler Black. Roman Reigns was a stranger to me, but I liked his strength. Any reservations I had about them as a team went out the window when I watched their TLC match with Team Hell No and Ryback. I was hooked.
While the Shield continued their rise to the top, my mental state began to deteriorate. I was able to perform well in classes and ensembles, but behind closed doors I was a mess. I felt hopeless, useless, and unlovable. I felt like I didn’t really matter to anyone and that the world would be better off without me. If you asked me what triggered these feelings, I honestly couldn’t tell you. Maybe it was the awkward living situation with girls whom I had nothing in common with. Maybe it was the crushing reality of just how bad some people really were. Maybe I had the potential all along for such feelings, but it had taken the physical, mental, and emotional stress of college to make it all bubble up to the surface.
In the midst of debating my life’s worth, I continued watching the Shield. I loved the way they always had each other’s backs, how they considered themselves brothers, and how their individual personalities shined through. I cut out several pictures of them from the WWE magazines and adorned my dresser with them. Something about these guys kept me going.
I developed my first official suicide plan in March of 2014. In my mind, I had reached the conclusion that my life was ultimately worthless and I would do everyone a favor by being gone. But on the night I was to go through with this plan, my friend called and said she had gotten us WWE tickets, mentioning my love of the Shield and how they would probably be there. I committed to going to the event and sure enough, they were there. When they came down the stairs to survey the crowd, Dean Ambrose was standing right next to my seat. I’m pretty sure I cried after the event. If I had gone through with my plan, I wouldn’t have gotten to see Dean up close and in the flesh.
In September of 2014, one of my best friends committed suicide. I was filled with all kinds of emotions, ranging from guilt to anger. I felt betrayed by his actions, even though I had considered the same actions only a few months ago. And of course, I sought out Shield content to ease the pain. We were in the middle of Seth’s Authority storyline and I related to the feelings of betrayal that Dean and Roman were expressing. Seth wasn’t dead but he had turned his back on his brothers, the same way I felt that my friend had turned his back on me. And when I made that connection, it hit me. The way I was feeling about his death, all the hurt and rage, was exactly how other people would feel about me. If I killed myself, I would put others through the same torment I was feeling…and hurting others is never something I want to do.
Fast forward over four years and I’m still here, still kicking. I still live with my depression, but it’s a lot more manageable. There are still times when I retreat into my own world to ride out the depressive episodes, but they are further apart and I bounce back a lot quicker. I’ve had therapy, cut out toxic people and mindsets, cut off my hair, gone to more wrestling shows, and started trying to live with a more positive attitude. It took a while to get where I am and I’m forever grateful to Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollins, and Roman Reigns for providing that little bit of light in the tunnel when I thought I wouldn’t survive. At the 2019 Royal Rumble, I had the opportunity to tell Seth as such. Overcome with the emotion of that confession, I also burst into tears when he won the Rumble.
The Shield will always hold a special place in my heart because without them, there’s a strong chance I wouldn’t be here to tell this story.
-Wynter
