I’m trying to write you these notes to build an honest, Frank, hopefully funny reflection of the world as we see it now. To that end, I want to be honest with you about something.

I’ve fought depression most of the last five years. Sometimes I’ve won. Sometimes I’ve gotten my butt kicked. And on those days when my butt is thoroughly and totally kicked, I’ve felt scared, adrift, and frankly furious. All the more so because students I teach could see my struggle and sometimes responded, not with compassion, but with jokes, jeers, or dismissals.

Rationally, they’re kids and kids don’t know what to do when they see adults struggle. But when you’re getting your butt kicked by depression, you aren’t rational. So I didn’t accept it. I panicked, I beat myself up, and I generally was one of the worst versions of myself.

You are kids too. I’m frankly terrified of being the worst version of myself just because you are kids too.

I tell you this not to scare you, or to justify my behavior, but because being honest about your health, including your mental health, is critical to creating a healthy environment.

Too often, we see “you’re crazy” as an insult. We’re not right. We’re wrong. We’re dangerous. We should be ashamed of ourselves. But truthfully, owning your struggles, your instabilities, your pain is the most healthy way to handle it.

Strangely, this came to mind while gearing up for the coming Scottish Premiership campaign. Newly assigned analyst Stephen Craigan joked “football keeps us sane, until the whistle blows for kickoff”.

Perhaps that’s a well known phrase, but it was my first time hearing it. Whomever said it first, I truly like it. Both for what it says and what it implies.

Superficially, it’s a cute joke. In trying times, Soccer can be a welcome distraction. As soon as it starts it’s trying in its own way.

But at this time, in the context of global upheaval, uncertainty, panic, and isolation, it’s uncomfortably true. Soccer may have been a respite from disease, financial ruin, and hard racial truths. But when you watch all those same things are still there. Players risk their health and the health of loved ones to play. Many players and clubs will be in dire fiscal straights without tickets or concessions. And anti-black epithets and symbols still dot stadia, while systemic avoidance of black managers perpetuates the unequal opportunities for leadership.

What might, at first glance, seem like a waste of time is just another means to confront the same problems. The comforting thought that we’re safe in the little bubble of sport is popped as easily as a soap bubble by a toddler in a tantrum.

The world is mad, and soccer is as mad as everything else. The only reasonable thing to be is mad, so kudos to everyone struggling.

That’s good. It’s time to face facts and address what we are and what we need. It’s time to be honest about how hard it is day to day, and how hard it is for both average joes/janes/jos and elite athletes. One need not hide their difficulties in this difficult world. Together we can see them and we can support each other through them.