Among the Eagles’ issues yesterday – of which there were many – was the unexpected absence of right guard Brandon Brooks for much of the team’s listless 17-9 loss to the Seahawks. The All-Pro played just 12 snaps before leaving the field, creating further havoc along the right side of an offensive line already down right tackle Lane Johnson.

In Brooks’ place was the overmatched trio of Andre Dillard, Halapoulivaati Vaitai, and Matt Pryor. Predictably, things did not go well. Carson Wentz committed four turnovers and was sacked three times in what was arguably the most dismal performance of his four-year career.

The team would only say that Brooks left the game due to an illness, but it didn’t take much imagination to immediately connect the update to his past battles with anxiety. The Inquirer’s Jeff McLane reported last night that it indeed was a relapse of his previous anxiety issues that were initially diagnosed after he missed two games during the 2016 season. Eagles head coach Doug Pederson confirmed that report on 94 WIP this morning and then Brooks later spoke on it:

There are multiple layers to peel back regarding this situation, so let’s do that:

  • Anxiety is often fluid and something that isn’t simply conquered. Despite the continued presence of these unpleasant physical manifestations, it’s encouraging to read that Brooks feels he has the situation under control.
  • Some have openly wondered if it is fair of McLane, or anyone, to divulge a player’s mental health issues, which tend to be deeply personal struggles. Is reporting a player’s absence because of a physical reaction born from anxiety or a mental health problem fair game? Does, let’s say, a panic attack get the same treatment as a high ankle sprain?
  • What are the consequences of the subsequent reactions to Brooks’ illness, or more specifically, the reported physical manifestation of his anxiety-related issues?

Let me start with this disclaimer – I’m not a doctor or a mental health expert – but I can at least relate on some level to what Brooks is going through.

I, like many others, have had some intense personal battles with anxiety for approximately 20 years. Whereas Brooks has said that his form of anxiety has caused vomiting that is traceable to his fear and angst related to performance, mine is without an identifiable origin that breeds panic attacks. Symptomatic of such attacks are breathing issues in which I feel I will be unable to regain my normal breath, numbness and tingling in my hands and face, and almost always the need to escape the current situation.

Panic attacks suck, I also imagine any other physical manifestations driven by anxiety suck, and if you or anybody you know deals with these attacks, you probably know that they suck, too. They are uncomfortable, they are frustrating, and for many people like myself, they are embarrassing.

If you have the flu, you have the flu. People get that. If you break your wrist, you put a cast on that thing and it heals. People understand that. If you have a good life, good friends, and “have no reason” to be anxious or (insert another mental health issue here), but you can’t catch your breath, or you can’t shake whatever other symptom is afflicting you—not everybody gets that. Some do. But not everybody. So when an All-Pro professional football player making $30 million guaranteed through 2024 is dealing with whatever he is dealing with, not everybody is going to get that.

I have a ton of respect for both Brooks’ previous willingness to discuss his battle and his explanation this morning – one that we are not owed – because it’s a sensitive issue that doesn’t exactly mesh with “tough guy” football culture. This is a reality that Brooks discussed with ESPN’s Tim McManus prior to the Eagles’ Super Bowl win two seasons ago:

You pull your hamstring, right? And you [treat it] to get it right. Same thing with mental illness,” Brooks said, “but for some people, they don’t view it the same thing as a physical injury. Some people did have my back, and some people didn’t. No hard feelings. You definitely forgive; you never forget, though.

That brings us to McLane’s report. There are ramifications that are going to once again put Brooks under the microscope. If he simply had left the game with a hamstring injury, there would be no questions, no discussions. But he didn’t leave with a bump, bruise, strain, or tear. He left, as we initially learned via McLane’s report, because of anxiety. And so there will be questions.

Plenty of people have been and will continue to be understanding and supportive in a situation like this. Brooks has already received hundreds of supportive messages on Twitter in response to his update. Still, there will be some who are going to mistakenly question Brooks’ toughness and desire after coming out of an important game with an already undermanned offense. Again, just take a scroll through Twitter for proof. Tweets and message board comments may not always provide the most accurate sample of society’s opinions, but in many cases, they do.

For what it’s worth, I don’t see an issue with McLane divulging what he was told by his source because it’s a publicly documented issue that has been openly discussed by the player.

As for Brooks, here’s hoping yesterday truly was just a temporary setback in an ongoing battle that he’s otherwise winning. It reads like he’s confident and in a good place, and that’s great news. Here’s also hoping that in light of what happened that we can use this as a learning opportunity which allows us to better understand, empathize, and work to destigmatize mental health issues.