Bigger than footy

THERE are some things that are bigger than football.

Anybody who has been touched by mental illness knows how cruel and random it can be.

It can be heartbreaking — not just to the family and friends of those affected, but also to the sufferers themselves, who have to deal with the fallout and prospect of a loss of rational thought processes.

And it can be frustrating trying to navigate through the maze of authorities, funding and health care providers while dealing with the emotional distress that comes with seeing a loved one so obviously in pain.

Mental health is unique. It is not as straightforward to diagnose or even treat as a broken leg or infection. It often goes undiagnosed for long periods of time — doing widespread collateral damage in the interim — and comes with an unfair stigma that prevents many from openly discussing their experiences or seeking help until it is too late.

Mental health issues often make people uncomfortable. Very few of our elected leaders rush forward to pledge funding for it at election time even though dealing with a mentally ill loved one can be a lonely, soul-destroying experience.

It is difficult to imagine the pain the Ablett family — like so many others in our community — have been going through for many years while Natasha endured her battles with mental illness. Being a member of a famous family has meant that her struggle was often played out in the public eye. Even now, her death is being discussed in terms of what it means for her brother Gary’s wish to play out his career at the Cats.

But as we said, there are things more important than football, and family is a big one.

Natasha Ablett was a beloved daughter and sister who was dealt one of life’s cruel hands. She was saddled with the stigma of mental illness and spent much of the past few years in and out of treatment.

Her family has also endured a painful journey that has now been capped by her untimely death. Nobody would blame Gary Ablett if he gave up on football altogether.