By Emilee White
In April 2020, MLB player Drew Robinson was ready for his life to end. Alone in his home during the Coronavirus Pandemic, Robinson had nothing but time to think and time to hear himself think. Eventually, Robinson’s endless, tortured thoughts led him to his living room couch one night with a glass of whiskey and a gun. That night, Robinson lost the battle waging in his mind and shot himself in the right temple. Robinson’s story however was far from over.
It was at the beginning of Robinson’s MLB career when a voice of doubt began to speak inside his mind. The voice made Robinson second-guess and question his own life. But after an elbow surgery that left him jobless (the St. Louis Cardinals released him from his contract in August 2019 following his surgery four months earlier), Robinson’s depression intensified along with thoughts of taking his own life. Eventually, Robinson was picked up by the San Francisco Giants, and he sought out therapy to help, but when COVID-19 swept through the world, he found himself, again, alone and without baseball.
Now on his couch, with his life literally on the line, Robinson was back to thinking. What was meant to be done quickly turned into a grueling 20 hours for Robinson as he continued to bleed out from the gunshot wound to his head, but it didn’t stop him from wondering: was his life actually worth living? Prior to his suicide attempt, Robinson struggled to find the answer he was looking for, which was why he now had a hole where his right eye should have been. But for one moment, so quick it almost didn’t register, Robinson wanted to live and he didn’t question it as he picked up his phone to call for help.
Robinson knew why he had done it; it was because he hated himself. He said so himself to the responding officer of Robinson’s 9-1-1 call. Would Robinson continue to hate himself? Probably. But maybe, like me, Robinson was tired of being alone and ready to get help.
Around the same time, I was in my tiny apartment in San Francisco with someone I thought I could spend the rest of my life with. The entire country was on lockdown due to the Coronavirus Pandemic, but it didn’t matter because I was happy, or so I thought. Very soon, I was caught in a life-or-death battle between me and myself, afraid of who was going to win. I didn’t even know how my life had gotten to that point, as I kept myself numb from the disappointment and pain. I fought so hard to prove to everyone around me that I was in control of who I was and who I was with, but really I was in a fast, downward spiral. I was lying to everyone — myself, my family, my therapist.
I was plagued with the same questions as Robinson and like him, I was plagued with guilt and I was tired. But what I realized was I was tired of lying. I was tired of pretending. So I stopped. And I could finally breathe.
When Robinson pulled the trigger to end his life, he was given a second chance to think. Even though his thinking led him to this point, Robinson was given another chance to think. He was given a second shot at life, something most people don’t get. He was given a chance at a do-over, a chance to do it right, a chance to heal. And Robinson took it.
Just seven months after Robinson tried to take his life, he signed a minor-league contract with the Giants and opened the 2021 season with the Sacramento River Cats. Today, Robinson is retired from baseball but remains a mental health advocate with the Giants. Robinson still doesn’t know what made him decide to live in those moments before he called for help, but I, for one, am glad he listened.
Photo Credit: Scott U
