His story is a powerful one-you can listen to here: pic.twitter.com/NDNvckiQtv

— Mina Kimes (@minakimes) May 20, 2020

As May, and Mental Health Awareness Month, comes to a close, Hurst wants folks to know there is still much work to be done. According to statistics last compiled in 2017 by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, suicide was the 10th-leading cause of death in the United States. More than 47,000 deaths by suicide occurred that year, more than twice the number of homicides. Suicide was also the second-leading cause of death among individuals between the ages of 10 and 34, behind only unintentional injury.

“My uncle committed suicide when I was younger, and then my cousin, as well,” Hurst said. “I understand that state of mind that you’re in. You want the hurting to go away. It just feels like this cloud of darkness is over you and the only way to make it go away is to take your life, and it will be over. You don’t think about other people in those moments. I understand depression. I’ve been there.

“Now, when things get tough, I can reflect back to that moment and just know that nothing that I’m faced with in life will ever be as hard as that was.”

‘I really didn’t understand what the hell was happening’

Hurst couldn’t cope with his depression and anxiety, at least not initially. The Jacksonville, Florida, native was picked by the Pirates in the 17th round of the 2012 MLB draft. While playing in the minor leagues, the right-handed pitcher became overwhelmed by the “yips,” a performance anxiety disorder that caused his pitches to sail uncontrollably. The guy with a mid-90s fastball suddenly couldn’t throw a strike. It turned into a three-year saga of troubles he couldn’t overcome.

“I guess that’s when it all started, because I had never really experienced failure in sports,” Hurst said of his depression. “I usually would just show up and always be better than everybody. When that [yips] started, I really didn’t understand what the hell was happening.”

The tipping point for Hurst came when he hit a Baltimore Orioles player with a pitch in a 2014 spring training game and knocked him unconscious. Hurst said he spent thousands of dollars trying to find a remedy.

“I couldn’t even play catch on a foul line like T-ballers do. I was overthrowing guys and skipping balls. I was just mortified because obviously people noticed. Guys didn’t necessarily want to be around me. I heard everything like, ‘That stuff’s contagious. I don’t want to be around this kid.’ So I was just embarrassed, and it really affected me off the field.”

Hurst tried counseling, but it didn’t solve the problem. He started binge drinking in hopes of drowning the pain. He remembered sitting alone in his dark dorm room in Bradenton, Florida, wanting nothing but to be isolated from the rest of the world.

He started experimenting with drugs, including cocaine.

“Like I said, anything I could do to kind of mask that pain and that embarrassment, I tried,” he said.

Hurst credited his former pitching coach Scott Elarton for working tirelessly with him to resolve the pitching problem. Each time they spoke, football seemed to come up. Hurst said that Elarton was the one who gave him the final nudge to leave baseball and go walk on at South Carolina to return to playing football, a game he had loved — and excelled at — in high school.

“I left Bradenton and figured I’d leave all that behind me, but the drinking and stuff still happened,” Hurst said. “Then I had my moment: I tried to commit suicide. When I woke up covered in my blood, I was just sitting there thinking, ‘What are you doing with your life?’

“I got lucky for some reason and was given a second chance at this thing. And now, I haven’t looked back.”

Hurst’s second chance

Hurst credited Dr. Timothy Malone, the University of South Carolina’s director of athletics mental health and a psychiatrist, for guiding his recovery after the suicide attempt. Hurst said therapy was very hard for him initially because he is private and doesn’t like to show emotions. He said the best recommendation he received from a therapist was to start journaling, basically keeping a diary of events going on in his life. He called that his saving grace. Hurst met with Malone every other day for a month, then graduated to once-a-week sessions as he improved.

The South Carolina football staff, including then-newly named head coach Will Muschamp, showed empathy for Hurst’s plight and applauded his progress.

“It’s awesome to see him grow up in front of your eyes and to see how he is handling the situation now moving forward,” Muschamp said of Hurst. “To be honest with you, I’m a football coach, not a psychiatrist, so I felt a little hopeless when the situation arose. But we have a wonderful support system here at the University of South Carolina.

“You have to compliment Hayden and his family. He’s got a great support system at home with his parents and sister. And Hayden himself, you have to credit the young man for recognizing some things he needed to deal with in life. That’s why I think he has such a strong voice.”

Hurst repeatedly praises his parents, Jerry and Cathy, and his sister, Kylie, for keeping his spirits up. The four of them refer to themselves as the “Core Four” because of their tight bond. Kylie, a veterinarian in Atlanta, now gets to see her brother on a regular basis. And Cathy, who is retired in Jacksonville with her husband, runs her son’s foundation.

The work ahead

Hayden Hurst created the Hayden Hurst Family Foundation in 2018 to focus on mental health awareness and suicide prevention. His story is a powerful tool in accomplishing the foundation’s mission.