Mark and Kim Hilinski stand near the midcourt of the Viejas Arena looking up at nearly 500 San Diego State players, coaches and staff.
Above the scoreboard during the hour-long talk were still and video images of his son Tyler, a quarterback at Washington State University.
It’s been five years since Tyler Hilinski committed suicide.
Emotions remain raw. The anguish is still real.
Mark Hilinsky goes first. His words are frequently interrupted as he clears his throat, reaches for a bottle of water, or stops to calm down.
Witnessing his pain is almost unbearable to watch.
But mental health needs to be addressed.
“We know this is a very important topic,” said John David Wicker, SDSU Director of Athletics, during Hilinski’s introduction. “We hear it from you[athletes]on a regular basis, so we want to give you as many opportunities as possible to come forward and surround you with support on this through our staff and our staff. I’ve been working really hard to make a lot of people through counseling and psychedelic services.”
Or through events such as “Tyler Talks.” Mark and Kim founded the Hilinsky Foundation of Hope to address the mental health of student-athletes and have shared this story at his more than 160 colleges and universities around the country. They visited San Diego last Sunday.
“The point is not to make you uncomfortable,” said Mark Hilinski. “The point is to find hope in the story.”
he pauses
“Tyler should still be here.
“So if we could just talk about it a little bit and really give each other a little break, I think we would be better off.”
“Dark and Ominous”
Everything seemed to be going well for Tyler Hilinski.
He is the second son of the Hilinski family, all three of whom were college quarterbacks raised in Southern California.
In 2017, Tyler rose from backup quarterback to rising star with Mike Leach’s passing happy offense as a junior at Washington State University.
Luke Falk was the Cougars’ starting QB, but Hilinski got his chance when Falk struggled in an early-season game against Boise State.
Washington State trailed by 21 points with six minutes remaining, but Hilinski led the Cougars to a 47-44 victory in triple overtime.
In a video shown on Tyler Talk, the voiceover announcer said of the Boise State game: Tyler Hilinski had a lot going on. However, there was also a problem. Something dark and ominous that grabbed his soul and couldn’t let go. ”
At that moment, no one watching could see it. Tyler was said to be easy-going with a bright smile.
He had another opportunity later in the season, replacing Faulk against Arizona.
Tyler scored four points and passed for 509 yards in the second half.
He also threw four interceptions in the 58-37 loss.
Hilinski started in place of Faulk in the 2017 Holiday Bowl in the Cougars’ 42-17 loss to Michigan State.
It was his last match.
Three weeks later, after a winter vacation with his family to Mexico, Tyler committed suicide.
An autopsy later revealed that Tyler had stage 1 CTE.
Whether it contributed in any way to Tyler’s death remains among the questions that always come back to this: why?
“As parents, that’s all we want,” Mark said.
Depression is one of the symptoms of Stage 1 CTE.
Tyler couldn’t or didn’t know how to ask for help.
Mark tells the story of Tyler taking his roommate to counseling. Tyler waited in his car outside during the session and then drove home.
“They sat in the car for about an hour, sometimes talking about the whole experience,” Mark said. “Things that are deep and heavy for these guys…
“He was 20 feet away from where[his teammate]called for help.”
But I couldn’t get help myself.
Mark told the story that when Tyler was 17, he called late one night to be brought home from a party when he was under pressure to do something he didn’t want to do.
They take Tyler home and say, “He’s sleeping, Kim and I are standing in the kitchen, high-five as parents,” Tyler says to call if he needs help, regardless of the problem. I heard a speech about
“He’s 17,” Mark said. “what happened?”
Why couldn’t Tyler ask for help when he was 21?
“Didn’t Tyler say anything because he didn’t want to lose his job?” Mark said. “perhaps.
“Was he embarrassed? Probably. I don’t know.”
“Put your arms around them”
Former SDSU linebacker Michael Shawcroft was among those who attended the event.
Shawcroft actively addresses mental health issues and helps organize on-campus groups that encourage athletes to share what they carry.
“Talking about mental health is what every school, every university should do because student-athletes are all pretty similar in that we all go through and drive a lot. “Most athletes can get through it, but a lot of them are frustrated. They have things at home they don’t talk about.” They are going through their own struggles.”
According to Shawcroft, two people can experience the same situation and be affected in very different ways. One moved and the other she got stuck.
“And they don’t know what to do,” he said. “Just talking about it helps a lot. A lot of people don’t realize it.”
Wicker said COVID-19 made the situation worse.
“It was very rewarding for everyone,” he said.
In recent months, the SDSU has added LVNs with mental health backgrounds and sports psychologists to the health care providers used by the Aztecs.
A Mountain West Health and Safety Advisory Board was also established.
According to school officials, this is in addition to existing services, with close ties to counseling and psychiatric services, and two psychologists with sports backgrounds.
Programs called Aztec Warrior Wellness and Aztecs Going Pro also have a mental health component.
“It’s not always easy,” Wicker told the athletes. “Whatever it is, it can make you feel down.
“Have the courage to talk to someone. Please have the courage to say,
“Put your arms around them. That’s what we’re here for.”
Hilinsky’s hope is another way to get ahead of the subject.
“It’s a tragic story, but it’s also a very powerful story,” Wicker said.
Hilinski’s mission of hope also includes connecting students to mental health resources and supporting both colleges and high schools with mental health best practices.
“I will never let my son die again”
While holding the mic, Kym Hilinski said: How do you keep telling Tyler’s story over and over and over again?”
“And I have another word for it.
“I call it love. I love my son. … When someone dies, you don’t stop loving them. It’s a way to keep showing them how much I love them.”
Kim said that when Tyler died, she, Mark, eldest son Kelly, and younger son Ryan sat down as a family to decide “how they’re going to live, breathe, and try to walk again without their son.” Told.
They came up with 3 options.
The first option was to stay in Southern California and “bury your head in the sand and ignore the fact that your son committed suicide.”
Kim said that doesn’t seem right.
“It really ends up enforcing that stigma, and that’s not what we’re aiming for,” she said.
The second option was to flee.
“We were going to find an island somewhere,” she said.
Running away didn’t seem right either.
“The third option was to form Hilinski’s Hope in Tyler’s honor,” said Kym.
Kym referenced Hilinskis live quotes. Once when you take your last breath. A little later, when someone last said your name.
“I’m not going to let my son die again.”
She still says, “I didn’t know he was sick. I didn’t know he was struggling. He didn’t tell me.”
Kym recalls the postgame press conference after the big win at Boise State.
When Tyler entered the room, he found her and said, “Hey, Mom.”
“I hear that voice every day,” said Kim. “And it drives me to keep working to support student-athletes.”
One of the most visible ways of support is the wristbands they distribute. Hilinski’s Hope and his 3 (Tyler’s jersey number) are on the outside.
Inside there is a phone number to call for help: 1 (800) 273-8255 or 988.
“I get a lot of emails, texts and phone calls,” Kim said. I was having a hard time. I flipped the band over and called the number. Don’t be afraid to call that number. ”
“Sorry for asking for help”
On the day he died, Tyler waited until his roommate left the apartment. That way no one else gets hurt.
When he missed practice, a search began for him. Tyler was found in an apartment closet. he shot himself.
He left a short note, the contents of which were unexplained.
His laptop and iPad were in plain view, but his phone was hidden.
Six months after their son died, the Hilinskis received a call from the police. Tyler’s phone is found by people who move into his apartment.
A phone call was sent to his parents, who tried to break into it to find some answers.
“We’re all after his password,” said Mark Hilinski. “The iPhone will pause after doing his 10th and wipe the data at the end. So we didn’t want to do that.”
So they turned to a company with expertise in unlocking phones.
“They sent me all the data on a big 5 terabyte drive or something,” says Mark. “So you could click on the picture and see who he was talking to.
“Guys, there’s nothing on that phone worth sharing with you, except a few things.”
One was Tyler’s password.
He was famous for simple things like repeating the same number over and over, and sequential numbers like 123456.
When the phone came back unlocked, it had a yellow sticky note on it that said PW: 767799.
“It’s not a password,” Mark said. “Tyler couldn’t remember it. Not because he was stupid, he just didn’t. It wasn’t his pattern. It didn’t make sense.”
Two weeks later, Mark receives a call from his wife. Her wife believed she understood what the numbers represented.
Mark said: “The only English words that match… those numbers are ‘sorry’
very sorry.
Tyler had changed his password a few days before he died.
“I don’t know who he was saying sorry to,” Mark said. “I don’t know if he said sorry.”
There were no words, “Dear Mom, Dear Dad, this is why I have to go.” It wasn’t. ”
pause.
“Excuse me,” he repeats. “Don’t make yourself sad. Don’t regret asking for help.”
“If you’re the kind of man or woman that a teammate comes up to and says, ‘I’m worried about you,’ for whatever reason, listen to them. Even so, many good things can happen…
“You don’t need tragedy to ask for help….you don’t need to wait for tragedy. If you need help, you deserve it.”