Sitting in my coaches office, doing a poor job withholding tears, I tell him “I need to get out of here, coach. I need to get far from the field. I can’t be here right now and I can’t think about baseball.”
I wasn’t sure what to do. I had never felt this way before.
What used to be an empty space in my mind was now filled with worry, anxiety, sadness, pain, and exhaustion.
…
Maybe it was the all out grind in the Florida summer humidity playing my first professional 140 game season that set me off. It could have been that or the recent breakup with my girlfriend after trying to salvage an immature distance relationship.
It could have been the unresolved resentment I had with my father at the time. Before I understood God and knew we all fell short of the glory.
It could have been the new team I had gotten promoted to. A new team meant new surroundings, new teammates, and a new coach, all new things my mind was trying to acclimate with. Not to mention the immense pressure to prove you belong on this new team.
I was looking for a home base, a role to play, some time off to ground myself, and I wasn’t finding it. I hadn’t found it for the last two months and I couldn’t bury my emotions any deeper. All the spaces in my mind were closed and their wasn’t any room left for baggage.
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The Florida heat made everything worse. 97 degrees and humid, practices on the field followed by a three hour game seemed to amplify the baggage locked in my head. It was fuel to the out of control bonfire taking place in my mind.
And the kicker, I wasn’t playing bad, I was playing phenomenal. I had just been called to our High-A class team in Port Saint Lucie, Florida and in my first three weeks in the league, I was leading the team in several offensive categories. My batting average and on base percentage were among the leagues best, I couldn’t make a mistake.
This was a big deal as getting called up to a higher league in the farm system was no different for someone in the workforce earning a promotion and then absolutely crushing their new role.
I was locked in. Too locked in. Tunnel vision. I was blessed with this double edge sword of a gift. Anything trying to enter my mind that even held a hint as being a distraction was deflected. Nothing resembling negativity, doubt, or distractions could enter my headspace as I stayed in my single minded bubble.
With all the externals I was sheltering myself off from feeling, I was exhausting myself slowly but surely. Little did I know I was coming to the end of my threshold and I was in for a very rude feeling.
…
When I walked into my coaches office to tell him I needed a break, I wasn’t sure how he was going to respond. I remember getting out of my buddy’s car, walking head down as I watched every step along the burning hot pavement and thinking to myself “here goes nothing.” I was nervous to show my true feelings. I needed to take off the mask and stop pretending like everything was good.
My coach handled the situation like a person with a heart would. I remember him smiling and saying, “Yeah, it sounds like you need to get far away from this baseball field.” I instantly felt a relief, like my feelings were validated and I wasn’t a weak human for sharing my struggles. He followed it up with saying, “These things happen in baseball, you’re not the only one.”
What did he just say? You mean I’m not the only one in this game who feels this way? There’s something reassuring about you not being the only human being who is having immense amounts of anxiety, burnout, and depression. It reassures you aren’t doing anything wrong, and we are all trying to figure it out. I know that’s how I felt as the heaviness slowly lifted from me.
My coach continued on by telling me he was going to get me in contact with our team psychologist. I had spoken to a therapist in my past and knew the profound work that happened in the process so I was excited for the potential support our team psychologist could offer.
I gained tremendous amount of respect for my coach and looked at him as much more than my coach but as an authentic person who understand we are human beings and we all have our shortcomings. As if that wasn’t enough, my coach went on to tell me that he is here for me as a friend and that I could call him if I ever needed to.
…
I left my coaches office with the biggest sense of relief I could remember as the immediate plan was to just get away from the field and not think about baseball for the time being. When my teammates at the time found out, they were supportive as well. One of my teammates who was my roommate at the time and now one of my best buds gave me the keys to his car. I did not have my own car at the time but borrowed rides from teammates.
Unfortunately, a minor league salary and a red shirt senior signing bonus bonus didn’t provide me enough financially to buy my own. We were making less than minimum wage. This became another motivating factor to make it to the major leagues, so I can have some money.
Along with the keys to his car, my buddy looked me dead in the eyes and firmly spoke the words, “If you need anything, I’m here.” Talk about hitting you deep in the heart, I felt these words to my core and it was more reassurance things were going to be okay.
…
When I got back to the apartment, I felt my phone vibrate with an unfamiliar call I.D. Thankfully I answered and found our teams Sports Psychologist on the other end of the line. After talking for a couple minutes, as he gained some rapport with me, we got into the deepness. I unloaded what had been going on with me while he held a space for me to do so.
After a few minutes of pouring out the stressors that had been jammed in my mind for the last couple months he gave me golden advice which I still use to this day.
He told me to take a Kevin Kaczmarski day. A day where I could do whatever I wanted to. Grab my favorite dinner, go and get a massage, go for a walk in nature, go and see a movie, go and get an ice cream. Do something that I wanted to do, since this would help take my mind off of the mental prison I had put my mind in with baseball.
I needed to loosen these constructs, to get myself to understanding life was more than about baseball, that I was able to have fun with it all.
…
As simple as the idea was of having myself a Kevin Kaczmarski day, I didn’t know where to start. My life for the last five years was strictly regimented. Everything I did as well as every decision I made was shaped around how it was going to affect my baseball career.
The strict disciplined lifestyle I had with baseball put me in a cage. The cage was like one of those high volt electric fences too. Anything that resembled any sort of threat was jolted with 1,000 watts of electricity.
The cage served me well as there was an immense amount of positives in having this cage around me. Most athletes who make it to the highest level have some sort of protection around them to help distance themselves from the world’s troubles. The cage helped to keep me focused on my craft, it helped me to stay single minded in the end goal.
As much as the cage sheltered me from bad things such a distractions, bad habits, and toxic environments, it also sheltered me from good things. It sheltered me from enjoying life’s simple pleasures and doing the things that would help me take a load off. It kept me so focused on doing what I needed to do to put me in the best possible position to be the best baseball player I can, but it forgot about the other part of myself.
The cage neglected the “being” part of myself and now it was up to me to find that part back.
…
After going back to my apartment, I thought about what it was I wanted to do. Key word being “thought,” I had to think about what I wanted to do. Who thinks about what they wanted to do? Shouldn’t this come naturally? For me at the time it didn’t.
I didn’t have much money in my bank account, living on a minor league salary at the time was below minimum wage. But I did have enough to enjoy myself for a couple days. This would start with a trip to Ruby Tuesday’s where I indulged myself into their salad bar and followed it up with a bacon and honey glazed grilled salmon complimented with a side of steamed broccoli.
The meal helped me to forget about some of my troubles as well as helped ease the cooped up ball of stress I had been holding onto. When I finished the meal, it was time for the next event on my Kevin Kaczmarski day. what would it be? I couldn’t blow all of my money but I had enough for at least one, maybe two more events.
Massage it was.
…
I can’t remember the name of the place, but it was time to get out some of the kinks in my muscles. At the time of our season, we were roughly 100 games in. I had been dealt with some early blows that season. I had what was diagnosed as a groin strain about three weeks into the season. Due to this injury I missed about 3 weeks of the season to healing and rehab.
When I returned from those three weeks, it didn’t feel much better, but I couldn’t sit on the bench anymore. I couldn’t make it to the major leagues on the injured list. When the season was over, we found out I had a torn muscle in my abdomen and had to get it surgically repaired. These were the sacrifices you made playing the game you loved, but this is a story for another time.
It was safe to say, at this point of the season, a massage was going to do me well. When I made it to the appointment, I didn’t mess around with the Swedish massage or the light skin rolling, I wanted to feel something real, something lasting. I chose deep tissue and I didn’t regret it. The masseuse dug into my muscles asking, “How’s the pressure?” and me responding back, “Just a tad bit more.”
The massage was worth it and I was now two for two in my inaugural Kevin Kaczmarski day events.
…
After the massage, I went back to the apartment, put on a movie and took a nap. All these events were helping me to learn to shut my mind off. My mind had been on for as long as I can remember. Go Go Go and always asking myself, What am I going to be doing next? How can I get better? How will this next move affect me? This day was helping me to take my mind away from the all powerful grind mentality and learn to let it all go.
After waking from my nap, early evening was upon me. The Florida heat and humidity was still sharp, but the after hour breeze was beginning to take place. Pretty soon the sun would start setting meaning our game would be starting. It felt weird not being at the field with my teammates helping them win, but I was far from ready to go back. It was time for my next and last event for the day which was ice cream
I scarfed down two scoops of double chocolate chunk from Baskin Robbins to end the day. My Kevin Kaczmarski day was over.
…
This day didn’t in anyway shape or form cure me of the deep levels of stress, anxiety, or depression I had been feeling at the time. Far from it. But the day helped me to “Be” a little. It helped me in taking the first step to creating a free space in my mind. A space I would learn to expand and grow and come back to when I was living too much in the chaotic playground from the other part of my mind.
It took a good week before I felt ready to get back on the field. That week off was filled with a lot of rest, working through emotional pain with our team sports psychologist, as well as learning to do things that took my mind away from the pressures that came with the game.
I recommend taking a personal day to anyone who feels like they’re in over there head, dealing with intense burnout, or dealing with mental and physical exhaustion.
Learn coping strategies that will lessen the doing, and heighten the being. Strategies where you don’t have to play a role and you can just be yourself, your true self.
Don’t be afraid to name the day after yourself as well.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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Photo credit: Anthony McKissic on Unsplash
