This article contains references of mental ill-health and suicide. If any of these topics affect you, please reach out to your support network or call Lifeline on 13 11 14. 

Liam Stocker isn’t the biggest fan of talking about his mental health, but he does so with an openness that’s almost as disarming as it is moving.

The 20-minute conversation isn’t what you’d typically gloss over on a chilly Friday morning. The skin instead tingles for another reason outside of Melbourne’s icy winters; it’s raw, powerful, defiantly honest.

For the better part of a decade, Stocker was fighting a silent battle which went by largely unnoticed by those around him. The occurrences started off small, oftentimes swept under the rug, before snowballing to a point where the accumulating difficulties that had been repressed for years finally set his internal “pressure cooker” off three years ago.

Stocker is in a good place now. But unlike on the footy field where acts of courage are applauded, the Blue-turned-Saint doesn’t want commendation of any kind for speaking honestly about the personal mental ill-health struggles he’s grappled with over the years.

“I think for some people they find it therapeutic and they learn something new every time they tell their own story. That’s probably not the case for me,” Stocker told saints.com.au.

“I feel like I understand my identity and my story really well, but the reason I try is because a lot of people my age haven’t spoken about this stuff enough. To be in this sort of window where I can try and make a difference means a lot.

“I think for me it's no longer just about what a good role model is. It’s a protective measure that I tell my story because it means the stuff I do to keep myself well, it has to stay up or else I'm not a very good role model for it.

“If I can tell my story, which I don't particularly want to do, but if I can tell it this openly, hopefully it will encourage people to speak to those they trust, just so they’re aware. Because if no one's aware, there's no one to help.

“We’re all very good at having a conversation about this stuff on someone that has left the world. We're not very good at having it beforehand.”

For almost seven years, those potential conversations remained bottled up to a point – amplified by being in the AFL spotlight – where this most recent discussion was a possibility of never taking place.

2 in 5 Australians will experience mental ill-health in their lifetime, but it’s the male 15-44-year-old bracket which is at most risk. Suicide is the leading cause of loss of life.  

“In hindsight, that was the worst thing for me. It wasn't that I was going through depressive or anxious behaviour, it was that I wasn't telling anyone,” Stocker explained.

“I became very good at hiding it. I was sort of terrified to acknowledge that I might have a mental illness. I found it very difficult to come to grips with the fact.

“My social interaction was really poor. When I got home, I wasn't particularly good at switching off from football and I related my identity to how I performed from a football point of view rather than as a person. So difficulties like that just built up over time.

“At the time I found it increasingly difficult to take care of myself and that was the biggest issue. It just increases the speed at which that pressure cooker is going to go off.”

After holding on for so long, something had to give.

Breaking point came during Stocker’s time in Carlton’s COVID-induced, Queensland hub in 2020. He was there for 10 days. By his own admission, they weren’t a good 10 days.

Putting on a brave face to front up to everyday interactions before made life “untenable”. Every day was a struggle, but even that’s putting it lightly for what he endured at the time.

Without the support of Carlton’s Brent Stanton and Medical and Player Development Coordinator Lillian O’Sullivan, Stocker’s story may be very different to the one it is today.

“The entirety of it, I was putting on a brave face for as long as I could, and when I couldn't anymore, I'd go back to my room and try and shake it off and I'd do it poorly,” Stocker said.

“I was very, very socially reclusive and it was incredibly difficult to come out of my room a few times. I just didn’t protect myself very well.

“I'm very lucky that I did. I'm not sure I'd be here if I didn't.”

For those eight months away, footy – the determining factor of how he perceived his identity – was placed on the backburner as Stocker put his own wellbeing at the front of the queue.

He hasn’t faltered since, even after the challenges of being delisted from the Blues, which ultimately eventuated to his second chance at the Saints.

Regular catch-ups with his psychologist and psychiatrist help to monitor and note his consistency of behaviour. If he feels the dial is shifting, he’s getting on the front foot and having the conversations before reaching the extremes of the past.

‘Mindfulness’ is a common buzzword in recent times, but is at the crux of Stocker’s daily routine. Observational practices every day centring around staying in the moment and not drifting too far forward or thinking too far back keep him anchored, as do the support of his family, partner and work with Outside the Locker Room, and soon, the Danny Frawley Centre.

From struggling to come to grips with the fact of mental ill-health affecting him to the level of understanding Stocker has now surrounding his own wellbeing, the contrast couldn’t be more apparent.

Stocker’s second chance at AFL level at St Kilda – the club he has supported since he was a child – has been everything he could have asked for so far. He’s played every game since breaking into the side in Round 1, and is on track to play in a game championing a cause close to his and many other hearts this Friday for Spud’s Game: A Match For Mental Health.

Although the 23-year-old is doing a good job in club colours so far, his impact on the game – however long that ends up being – will extend well beyond what he does on the field.

“I could never play another game of football and be pretty happy with my identity. I don't think I could have said that to myself three or four years ago,” Stocker said.

“I know I act how I want to act, and I take a certain level of comfortability in that.

“I'd be as content as I ever have been, but I don't think it's a scale really. I'm not ever more or less content, I'm just happy because I've got it figured out.”

Liam Stocker still doesn’t love to talk about his past experiences around mental ill-health. But he’s going to be helping so many by doing so.

If anything in this article adversely affects you, please call Lifeline on 13 11 14.