Coach Gigs: A Suicide Survivor

As we break into SEASON 2 of The Dark Side of the Mask Podcast, you’re going to hear a story that is deeply personal to Coach Gigs — his own journey of surviving suicide and finding his way back to the light.

This episode hits deep. It’s emotional, raw, and at times difficult to hear. But more importantly, it’s a story of hope, survival, and finding a reason to keep going.

Coach Gigs opens up about some of the darkest moments of his life and what it felt like to struggle as deeply as he did. His story is a reminder that we all can find ourselves in dark places, and sometimes the people who appear to have everything together may be fighting battles that nobody else can see.

But darkness doesn't mean there isn't light.

This episode is about finding that light — the people who care, the reasons to keep fighting, and understanding that you don't have to face your darkest moments alone.

Just like the opening of every episode reminds us:

“We will help you see the light.”

If you are struggling, please know that asking for help is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign that you want to keep fighting.

⚠️ IMPORTANT SUICIDE & MENTAL HEALTH DISCLAIMER

This episode discusses suicide, suicidal thoughts, mental health struggles, and personal experiences with suicide. Some portions may be difficult or triggering for listeners.

If you or someone you know is struggling with thoughts of suicide or is in immediate danger, please don't face it alone. Help is available.

Call or text 988 to reach the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline for free, confidential support, 24/7.

If there is immediate danger, call 911 or go to the nearest emergency department.

You can also reach out to someone you trust — a friend, family member, coach, teammate, teacher, counselor, or anyone who will listen.

You matter. Your story isn't over. There is help. There is hope. And there is light.

Transcript

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SPEAKER_01 0:01

Welcome back to season two of the dark side of the mask, and there's no better time to come up and then Jerry's Hammer, which happens to be suicide for the first episode. What you gain from this is only gonna help you make sure. And we're gonna talk about my own personal mental health story. So as we continue to raise awareness during September Suicide Prevention Month, I want to share my story. Not because I have all the answers, and certainly not because I have everything figured out, because obviously we don't, but because I know what it feels like to be stuck in a really, really dark place. So if sharing my journey can help even one person realize that they aren't alone, then it's gonna be worth every uncomfortable moment opening up to you listeners. Now, folks, don't worry. We're gonna get back to our regular topics next week. And trust me, we're jumping headfirst into the treacherous waters of recruiting. Oh good lord. Fucking recruiting. There's a lot to unpack with recruiting. Seems to be on the topic of everybody's mind right now, especially with all the craziness that has evolved from the NCAA and its new crazy rules. There's just way too much. So we'll have to start that conversation next week. But today, today's going to be a little more personal. Today, I'd like to talk about my mental health struggles and my journey, the darkness, the moments when I felt completely stuck, and ultimately how I found my way out of that dark hole. Because sometimes when you're in the middle of the darkness, you can't see beyond it. You can't imagine things getting better. You can't see the light. But I'm going to tell you folks, the light is there. And once you find even the smallest crack of light, you can start moving toward it. My journey has transformed me from someone who fell trapped in a dark hole into someone who now sees an infinite amount of light. And that light seems to shine a little brighter with every day that passes. So if you're listening today and you're in that dark place, if you're struggling, if you're hurting, if you feel like nobody understands you, please know you are not alone. There is a way out, there is hope. And yes, you can find the light at the end of the dark tunnel. So buckle up. This one's going to get personal. Let's get after it. But before we get started, I want to give a quick content warning. Today's conversation includes a discussion of suicide, suicidal thoughts, and mental health struggles. Some of what I share may be difficult or triggering for others to listen to. So my goal is to share my story, not to glorify suicide or provide answers to it, but to talk openly about the reality of mental health, the importance of reaching out and the fact that there is hope. Even when you can't see it yourself, if this conversation becomes too difficult for you, it's okay to hit pause, step away, take a break, and come back to it later. But most importantly, if you or someone you know is struggling or maybe in immediate danger, please reach out for help. You can call or text 988 to reach the suicide and crisis lifeline. You don't have to be at the point of taking your life to reach out. Sometimes you just need someone to talk to. You are not alone. There is help and there is hope. So with that said, let's get into it. And just a warning, I might even get a little bit emotional during my story. All right, so let's take you back to last year in season one, in episode two of the podcast titled Bigs the Story, where I briefly explained my background and gave you a little insight into my mental health, my mental health journey. But today I would like to expand a little bit more into that journey. I'm not here to scare you, like I said before. I'm also not here to give you a single detail, every single detail of what happened, but I want to share, I took away from these experiences, what has helped me, because maybe something I learned along the way can help you with your struggles as well. In my personal life, I talked about how I grew up with that old school leave it to beaver lifestyle. That home, everything was perfect. Life was pretty much the same day in and day out, and anything outside of that norm was frowned upon or considered taboo. Looking back, I think that that really kind of groomed me to accept that perfectionism was the way of life or is the way of life, when in reality it was actually causing more harm than good. I thought that that was how I was supposed to live, and eventually how I was supposed to raise my own family. Everything had to be perfect, because anything less was just unacceptable. I did. And to and today, I think it can be even worse because those perfect standards are marketed to us everywhere, especially through social media, which can create another layer of pressure and stress for people who are already struggling. But I'm not here to spend a lot of time talking about my childhood. Just know that the way I grew up had some long-lasting repercussions that followed me into adulthood, which I'll be honest with you, I'm not very proud of. You know, growing up, I played a lot of sports. I was determined to become the best lacrosse player and goalie I could possibly be once I stumbled upon the sport. That meant I needed to train every chance I got, whether it was before school, after school, weekends, whenever I could, basically, whenever I had time. We didn't have the luxury of all these specialized sports performance programs that are available today. We simply had a wall, play wall ball, and some friends who would you could call up, call, not text, to shoot on me when possible. But honestly, shots were shots, and no matter who was taking them, that's how I got better. We also didn't have all the recruiting resources that athletes have at their disposal today. We had to perform at our best in front of any college coach who happened to be watching at recruiting camps or showcases because that's all that we had back then. We didn't have all these tournaments like kids today have. So basically, training has always been a part of my DNA. I made it to college. Uh, and like with every, and as every freshman goes through it, you know, you don't play much no matter what level you're on. You just don't get a whole lot of playing time as a freshman. I was getting the practice reps, I was sitting behind three other goalies, which I'm sure many people can understand, and just trying to acclimate myself to the college game was not easy, but it comes with time. I trained whenever I could with my defensive coach, because I'll be honest with you, we didn't have a goalie coach at that time. But I was doing whatever I could to get better. Sophomore year came around, and all my fellow goalies at Alpha had left. Suddenly I was the lone goalie, which is another topic that we'll discuss this season with some friends of mine who have also experienced that same feeling of being the lone goalie. There was nobody to relieve me for most of the year. And when I failed to be perfect, I lost it. And mentally, I was struggling. Physically, it started to show on the field in practices and in games. Literally losing my shit every goal I gave up. I went from being an asset to a liability. Then, after my sophomore season, after I got through it, the following year, my entire coaching staff left. They just up and left for other positions elsewhere. New coaches came in that included two brand new goalie coaches, which was cool. I got goalie coaches now, and three freshman goalies, which I didn't expect. One of those goalie coaches picked me under the wing and generally tried to help me improve my game, and to this day has been a mentor of me ever since. The other one, on the other hand, not so much. I don't think he liked me much. He was determined to prove that the junior was, in this case, I was the junior, was yesterday's garbage. And that it was time to start a new regime with a freshman in goal. I had a bad game early in my junior season, and after that, never saw the field again. The lack of respect I got from the staff, the loss of playing time, and everything else going on in my life started sending me down a downward spiral. So I started drinking more, more frequently with my fraternity brothers. In fact, I found myself drinking before practices and drinking before games. Basically, I had made a lot of poor choices in my life, which I'm not happy for. And of course, it didn't help that during my sophomore year, my own academic advisor told me I wasn't intelligent enough or didn't even have the capacity to graduate from Alfred. So he suggested some local options that I could transfer to, like a SUNY school or community college. So I basically told him, Go fuck yourself. I'm graduating from the school and you can't do anything about it. I tried talking to the dean of business, but he didn't really do much other than to say stick with your advisor, and while telling that advisor to basically just sign off on my course, course load, and leave me the fuck alone. So that was just another thing add to the pile of shit going on in my life. During the spring of my now junior year, I was drinking with my fraternity brothers one night. Jokes were being made, and some of my brothers started making things personal. At first, I tried to laugh it off, but eventually those jokes started to hit close to home. And I took things a little more personally than I ever thought I would. I became offended. And as the night went on, other brothers started joining in and laughing. Luckily, it wasn't everybody, mostly the football guys, but it still hurt. So that caused me to drink more. And eventually I made it to my room and I passed out. And I figured if I was asleep, nobody could bother me or make jokes. Unfortunately, the guys who were picking on me, who were drinking excessively, didn't give a shit. They somehow found their way into my room, even though our house rules specifically stated you weren't allowed to enter another brother's room without their knowledge or permission. And they trashed my room and stole my clothes. When I woke up, I was fucking pissed. And of course, no one, I'm talking no one, would tell me who actually did it. They'd point fingers jokingly, whether you could believe them or not, it was another story. But of course, I had a pretty good idea, as earlier on I knew who was making the jokes. So I had a good idea. I talked to the other brothers, I considered my true friends, and they helped me try to let it go. But they just blamed it on the alcohol and told me to not worry about it. The reality was all these things happening throughout my junior year, to include the drinking with my fraternity brothers, were starting to take a toll on me. Started to feel less and less like myself, and my grades were starting to flip. I was starting to devalue my own life. So I began closing myself off from the world around me and started to shut down. The best way I can describe it is that I felt like I was on a train or an underground railroad, just plunging deeper and deeper into the darkest parts of the earth, and I couldn't see the light. None, none whatsoever. So with nowhere to go and not knowing where this train was going to stop, I figured the time was right. I walked myself up to Lookout Point on campus. I tucked myself down into the weeds that laid right across this edge of a cliff and asked God for some kind of sign. Some kind of hope. Some kind of saving grace to come around the corner, but nothing nothing happened. And to me, that felt like the sign I was looking for. The fact that nobody was there was the sign. So I stood up, looked over the edge, and I could feel the pain start to leave my body. I felt like this not so perfect life that I could never seem to live up to was finally going to be set free. All I had to do was lean forward. And then, out of nowhere, my best friend and fraternity brother and roommate Connie Robinson found me. He said, Giggs, what the fuck are you doing? I couldn't really answer him. I just stood there for a moment. Then he grabbed me, threw me down into the weeds away from the edge, and said, Giggs, snap out of it. So I got up, said, Connie, what the fuck, man? Why'd you tackle me? Why didn't you just let me fall over the edge? All he told me was that he cared about me. He didn't ask me what was wrong. He didn't demand an explanation. He simply said, and it stuck with me, I've got you, bro. I'm here for you. We can just sit here and talk, and I won't say a word to anybody. And that's what we did. We just sat there. We felt what felt like an eternity to me was probably about 20 minutes, mostly in silence. But eventually I told him everything that was bothering me. And you know what he did? He listened. That's it. He listened and said, I get it. And then told me if anything was to ever happen to me again, just call on him, come find him. Because he said, We can't lose anyone as important as you. After that, people jumped in his car, we drove back down to the house, grabbed some beers, we sat on the drinking porch and just shot the shit like nothing happened. Like bros do. Looking back, that was probably one of the first moments in my life where I truly felt loved by someone outside of my family. And that moment has stayed with me ever since. Now, fast forward to senior year. I had a good feeling this time. I had a better head on my shoulders going into senior year. I continued training and playing summer ball all summer. I could physically see myself getting better at lacrosse because I wanted to earn my starting job back. I was stopping shots, I was making plays, doing what great goalies do. I took my game to the next level. I came back to school with a fresh mindset. I was ready to fight for my spot, and I made it through the fall season as we all four of us split time, absolutely fucking killed it. So later in the fall, I had my one-on-one meeting with my coach, and even he was excited about how well I performed during the fall. So I asked him, Coach, do you see me as your starter when we come back from Christmas break? And as usual, the answer was basically, well, we'll see. As of right now, Josh, who's our starter, will remain as our starter. I was like, What the fuck? You know what? You can take a shit back. I'm done. And I walked out. And that was the end of my college lacrosse career. So I came back in the spring after Christmas break, tried out for the golf team. Little the trials were two rounds in the in uh of 18, and somehow became the number one golfer. Not sure how, but I did. Shooting two rounds in low 80s, since I'm still the number one golf golfer on the team. So go figure. But you know what? I'll take it later that spring, things were going well. I was having fun playing golf. My grades were improving. I was in a great place mentally. Great place. And for the first time in a long time, I was actually able to enjoy spring break with my fraternity brothers who I actually got along with, not the ones who were messing with me. So after we returned from spring break, uh our fraternity held a prior had had a relatively private party, I guess, with some local Greek friends from around campus. And unfortunately, the same people started to bullying me again. This time they were joined by a group of younger brothers who who were recent brothers looked up to them and started repeating the same negative comments and the same stupid drunk behavior. After the party, most of us went up to the local bar, hung around for a little bit. However, I left the bar early because I was getting tired. Went back to my room. And when I got back, I had found my door broken in again. My room was fucking trashed again. And at this point, I literally had reached my limit. My breaking point. I looked for Tani. He wasn't around. He may have still been at the bar, but I don't really know. I couldn't really tell you. So went back to lookout point. But this time, I was going to complete my mission I had once started the year before. This time, I headed up into the forest. There was no hesitation. I found the right tree. And I truly believe this was going to be the final time. I'm not going to share the details as to what happened next, but I'm sure you can figure it out. Just before I followed through, God sent me an angel. When Tani got back to our room, he saw the room, he knew exactly what had happened. He jumped in his car, raced back up to Lookout Point because he knew that's where he found me before. And once again found me. And once again he tackled me. Can you fault him? He's a rugby player. So tackling is basically in his DNA. But this time we talked and I unloaded everything on him. I told him what was really bothering me and what took me to my breaking point. Tony took it upon himself to confront the brothers who had been treating me like shit. But this time we did it together. We told him I didn't want to see them until I graduated. I was done and over their bullshit. Other brothers rallied behind me, made those guys stay somewhere else. I didn't care where they stood, a friend's house, a girlfriend's house, somewhere else. I didn't give a shit. As long as they weren't near me until I was graduated. I was just done. Done with their bullshit. But then I graduated and I've never felt so free in my in my entire life. And to this day, I continue to owe my entire life to my fraternity brother Tawny. Unfortunately, Tany found his final resting place with God last year after losing his battle with cancer. And he was the only person who knew the entire truth about what happened to me. And I owe him everything. And he never shared that secret. However, now just to be transparent, there was actually a third incident, not too recently, but only a few years ago in 2023. That situation was a bit different. It was more of an anomaly, and it was triggered by an energy drink. I'm not going to name the brand because of the potential legal repercussions I could face, but the combination of the ingredients and my anxiety created the perfect concoction for suicidal ideation. And I'll never forget that day because that's when the big picture in my life came into Zoom, came into focus. I was driving home that day from the east side of the state after doing some craning. I got to a point where I almost drove my car off the road, doing about 100 plus miles an hour right into an embankment. But what stopped me? There were three things that stopped me. Number one, the thought of my kids growing up without a father and a wife without her husband. Two, the responsibility I had to the goalies matter community that I only started two years prior. And of course, because I started that community just to help others deal with their mental health struggles. And third but not least was 988. Those three things were a huge reason why I'm sitting here today and telling you my story. I've talked to friends afterwards, which led me getting in touch with a therapist. And what that experience did was resurface some old wounds and some old demons that I still needed to deal with. And I realized something important. Sometimes you need somebody who isn't connected to your past, someone who can look at your situation from the outside, someone who can help you deal with the things you've carried for years. For me, that person was and still is my therapist. And that was a huge part of my healing process to help me rid the demon from one of the darkest places in my life. You know, I started Goalies Matter in 2021 and I broke down telling my story to many kids who attended the camp that year. And as I told my story that year, and the reason behind why we started Goalies Matter was a healing moment. I have never told that story to anybody in my entire life. And that happened in 1999 and 2000. And here we are in 2021. And I just now, for the first time, told that story. And as I continue to articulate that story, I started to find myself breaking down. And even after we launched Goalies Matter in 2021, and all the kids, you know, there were tears and emotions going, and everybody was hugging one another. Kids, you know, I let them go and do their group discussions afterwards. And I sat on that field, I kneeled down, and I literally cried. Cried for a long time, thinking about where I've where I've been and where I've come and where I'm gonna go. And I couldn't be more relieved than that day when I was able to actually let everyone know my story. And that's why I'm here today. And now here we are with a podcast. Go figure. So now you're probably wondering what I learned from this experience in my life and how my experience can help you with your issues. What is it that you can take away from my story? And I'll tell you because there's a lot. It's this no matter how deep your darkest tunnel runs, there is still light at the end of it. Sometimes you just can't see it yet. But there are people who care about you, there are people who will support you, and there are people who have walked through that same darkness and understand exactly what you're feeling more than you can ever realize. There's a quote that has always stuck with me. And for those who know, Robin Williams died by suicide, can't remember the year, but he had this quote There is always someone fighting a battle you know nothing about. Because so many of us are really good at hiding behind a mask. We smile, we laugh, we tell everyone we're fine, but then the door closes, and we're all alone in a room, alone in that car, alone with our thoughts, and that's when the mask comes off. The demons we've been fighting can become incredibly loud. But here's the thing: your story doesn't have to end there. You can change the direction you're heading. You can ask for help. You can surround yourself with people who lift you up instead of tear you down. You can find something that makes you smile again. Maybe that's the cross. Maybe it's another sport. Maybe it's music, family, friends, faith, or simply finding something that gives you a reason to get out of bed tomorrow. For me, one of the biggest lessons I've learned is that change isn't always a bad thing. That was the theme of this year's Six by Six Goalie Camp this year. That was our theme. Change. Because if you're unhappy with where your life is heading, sometimes you have to change the way you're doing things. Change your surroundings. Change the people you're allowing into your life. Change the way you're treating yourself. And most importantly, give yourself permission to not be perfect. I started playing softball a few years ago for my buddy Jess Lee. He runs an incredible organization called Jess's Cancer Crushers. And we play ball to raise money so kids battling cancer can experience some happiness, create memories, and simply enjoy being kids while they're fighting a battle they can they never asked for. And every time I step onto that field, I'm reminded of something, something that's bigger than wins or championships. And that life is happening right now. We don't value life enough. We need to value it more. We spend so much time worrying about the next game, the next season, the next scholarship, the next achievement, the next mistake that sometimes we forget to actually live our life. And this is especially important for athletes to know. Sports are supposed to be something we love. But when sports becomes so overwhelming that you're destroying yourself mentally just to be perfect or to be the best performer on the field, stop. Take a breath. Because what you may not realize is that you're sacrificing the one person who matters most, the best version of you. You have to take care of yourself first. You have to love yourself first because sports will always be there. And I want you to think about something. Ten years from now, nobody is going to give a shit how many goals you scored. Nobody's going to give a shit how many goals you gave up. Nobody's going to care about the save you made or didn't make, the error you committed, the game you won or the game you lost. And honestly, they may not even care what sport you played. But you know what they will care about? You. They'll care about the person standing in front of them at the family gathering. They will, the person sitting around the dinner table, the person at the birthday party, the person laughing with their friends, because that's what matters. So if you're listening to this right now and you're struggling, please don't suffer in silence. Talk to somebody, call somebody, text somebody, find a friend. And if you don't know what to say, you don't need to have the perfect words. Sometimes you just need someone with ears to listen and a heart to love you. And if you need more help, there are people and resources available for you. You can call or text 988 to reach the suicide crisis lifeline. But please know this asking for help isn't a weakness. It's probably one of the strongest things you can do. And from someone who's been in a dark place, I promise you there is light. You may not see it today, you may not see it tomorrow, but keep moving toward it. Because this is not the end of your story. Take care of yourself, take care of each other. And until next time, remember this. This is just another chapter. And maybe, just maybe, your darkest chapter will eventually become the chapter that helps someone else find their light. You're amazing. You'll always be always be brave, be courageous, and be vulnerable and truly be authentic in everything that you do. You are not alone. Like I said in the very beginning, we're all in this together. We got you. And if you need someone to talk to, we'll be glad to help you. Just email me at goaliesmatter at gmail.com and I'll be sure to reach back to you. You know, being a goalie, being an athlete, a human is rough. Make the most of your time while you can. So let's find the good in our lives and let's be the best version of you you can be. I'm Coach Giggs. This was my mental health story, and this is the dark side of it.