Friendly Reminder: Ask for Help
Recently, I came across an ad on Instagram. It came from Norwich City Football Club, captioned “Check in on those around you” and tagged #WorldMentalHealthDay and #youarenotalone. It depicted two friends at a football match. The friend on the right is cheery, often standing to celebrate a victory for his team and encouraging the friend on the left to join him. Lefty is sullen, reluctant to stand, or to be there at all— but he comes every time to support Righty, or for the sake of company.
I’ve seen these ads before and was sure I knew what would come next: Lefty is depressed, and in one of these games, he’ll perk up or thank Righty for sticking by him. Or, perhaps, he won’t be at a game one day, and Righty will be left to mourn him as the viewer infers what happened offscreen. Instead, the second to last game depicts Righty putting a team scarf around Lefty’s neck. Lefty tries to return it, and Righty cheerfully insists he keep the gift. Then I know what happens next: a black screen claiming, “At times, it can be obvious when someone is struggling to cope.”
In the next clip, Lefty is alone and marks Righty’s seat with the team scarf. He removes his hat and stares at the camera. The next caption reads: “But sometimes, the signs are harder to spot.” The screen fades to the empty bleachers with Righty’s scarf in the seat he is no longer alive to occupy. “Check in on those around you,” says the ad.
It’s a moving sentiment, and one I appreciate. In a world where the idea of “I don’t owe anyone anything” grows every day, we all need a reminder that we do, in fact, owe the people around us our time. Human beings wilt under a lack of companionship, and community is where health and happiness thrive. We absolutely owe it to our friends to spend time with them; you need to show up even when it’s tiring, inconvenient, or doesn’t directly benefit you. I especially appreciate it as someone who identifies with the glimpses we catch of Righty in each clip: friends in the past have enjoyed my presence due to how chipper I am, especially when times were hard on them. I had the energy of a dog who was just happy to be included, because a small gesture of affection from one friend could (and still can) light me up for an entire week.
However, no one’s life is perfect, and mine is no exception. At age thirteen, I was bullied by some boys from my classes. My friend’s response to my venting was an uncaring chorus of, “And? Get over it.” Even a teacher who witnessed it daily was unconcerned and told me to deal with it on my own. Only a few months later, I waded through the confusing haze of gender dysphoria, knowing there was something deeply wrong with the direction female puberty was taking my body, and yet being too afraid to tell anyone for fear of rejection. This led me into a depression during the winter of 8th grade— light enough not to land me in a hospital, but heavier than anyone should bear alone. I managed to shake it off by the time spring of 2018 came, but it still cost me my good grades, my ability to be happy without a distraction, and my self confidence. In my freshman year of high school, the struggles became social once more in two instances separated only by a few months. The psychological horrors teenage girls can inflict made being jeered at and hunted during recess seem like nothing.
I bore it all with a smile and mild complaints of homework or slow walkers in the halls.
I don’t blame my younger self for hiding their struggles. Back then, I was under the impression that feeling depressed wasn’t serious until the urge to harm myself arose (it thankfully never did). After my complaints of the bullying were brushed off, I feared rejection of a more serious concern—such as being transgender—would leave me worse off. These trends continued into high school, where the social backlash of voicing my pain would have been devastating. These were not unreasonable concerns.
However, there was always at least one or two people who would have taken me seriously. Though I insisted to myself that it wasn’t worth bothering anyone, I know now that it absolutely was. My 8th grade English/History teacher confronted me after I bombed one of his tests— a test I would have done well on if I were in any other mindset. My mom asked if I was depressed after noticing I had gone quiet in recent months (I am and have always been incredibly chatty). Though I insisted I was just tired, they would have offered me support if I told them what was going on.
Though Righty is a fictional character in an ad, he would be a good recipient for my message: If you need help, you have to ask for it. No one can read your mind and know what you need. It’s critical to voice what will help you so that others can give it or lead you to it. People will not try to pick your brain for issues if they don’t detect any— and why would they if everything seems to be going alright? Without an explicit need for it, many people will depend on you to voice your own needs. This is not to say the ad is wrong; it’s critical to check on your friends. Anyone could be going through something, whether they show it or not. However, it’s also critical to stand up for yourself and make your needs known. All the resources in the world won’t save you if you won’t take it upon yourself to pick them up. It reminds me of a song lyric that’s been on my mind lately, from Secrets From A Girl (Who’s Seen It All) by Lorde: “Everybody wants the best for you / But you gotta want it for yourself, my love.”
Sources:
Check in on those around you ad link
Secrets From A Girl (Who’s Seen It All) by Lorde lyrics from Genius
Screenshot via the.selfie.of.dorian.gray on Instagram link
About the author: Mars G. Aichler is a 4th year English major minoring in Creative Writing. They harbor a deep love of stories— a love that comes in the form of reading and writing books at lightning speed. When not at school or work, Mars can be found lost in a book, drawing, reorganizing their enormous collection of nail polish, or taking long walks to appreciate how lucky they are to live in the beautiful Pacific Northwest.