The weight we don’t see: mental health, pressure and being enough
"Our View" is prepared by the Editorial Board and should be considered the institutional voice of The Record
Sometimes in college we act like we’re in a race. Whether it is to finish the paper, build the resume, score on the field, add another club, polish another credential, all while believing we have endless time and energy. But
when you step back, you see the truth— our worth isn’t just what we can do or what we provide, it’s who we are when we stop doing and just live.
Last week the world was left shocked by the tragic death of Marshawn Kneeland, a 24 year old defensive end for the Dallas Cowboys, who died by an apparent suicide. A young athlete, drafted to the NFL, pursuing his dream and excelling and yet behind the helmet and the highlight moments, he was dealing with internal pain no one saw in full.
As college students, we walk a thin line. We are encouraged to stack all the experiences we can get. Things
like internships, leadership roles, athletics and community service. We feel the pressure to be, to perform, to
stand out, to win. And yet in all that doing, we often forget to check in with ourselves. How are we? What are we carrying?
If we’re being honest, the constant push can drown out our still-small voices. The whisper of stress, the ache of exhaustion, the worry that maybe we’re not enough — not for your partner, the next job, not for the next tryout, not even for ourselves. But here’s the thing: you are enough. Your value is not defined by what you
accomplish or what titles you hold. You are beloved not because you are the top of your class, but because you exist. Not because you lead multiple clubs, but because you showed up. Not because you made the team, but because you are human.
When someone like Kneeland loses his life, it reminds us that high performance and high pressure often go hand-in-hand with hidden pain. One news report noted that before his death, Kneeland texted his family a goodbye message and had a known history of mental-health struggle. We might think our friends have it together because they’re excelling on the outside. But the truth is, we often don’t see the burden behind the badge or on the resume.
On a college campus, it’s easy to buy into the narrative that your worth equals your output. But faith, community, friendship, many of the best reasons we do what we do tell us something different. They say that
you are seen. You are loved. Even when you rest. Especially when you rest. Because who you are will always matter more than what you do.
So what can we do? First — speak up. If you’re struggling, that’s okay. You’re not alone. If someone you know seems distant, ask. Sit, listen, stay. Second — step off the gas pedal for a moment. Rest sucks sometimes and the workload keeps piling up, but rest is part of good work. Your health matters. Third — remember that your value transcends roles. You may be an athlete and a student and an employee, but you’re also a sibling, a friend, a neighbor, a human being who doesn’t owe the world proof of worth every day.
If we learn anything from Marshawn Kneeland’s death, let it be this; Hiding pain behind success doesn’t make it go away. We must open space to be seen, to be heard, to be helped. Our community should be one of those spaces.
If you’re struggling, reach out for help. On campus, our Well-Being Center is available. Nationally, dial or text 988 to connect with the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. You matter. And you’re not alone.
