Feeling the Daylight Again with Tracy Hargen

When Will Hargen told his mom about his struggle with depression, it marked the beginning of a family's journey of healing and openness

When he was 17, Will Hargen asked his mom, Tracy, “Hey mom, can we talk?” She turned off the TV. He took a breath and said, “I’m depressed. I’ve been seriously depressed, and I have been for a long time.”

For Tracy, the world seemed to stop for a moment. Her mind reeled. She struggled to reconcile the confession with the Will she knew — the boy whose laughter echoed from his bedroom. At first, Tracy was on the brink of denial. She almost said what immediately came to mind: that he can’t be depressed, he seems happy, and his life was going smoothly. 

But she recalls pausing instead. She recognized the courage it must have taken for him to come to her. And instead of the platitudes that had almost come out, she found herself reassuring him. 

“I kind of sat there for a second and said, ‘Thank you for telling me, thank you for trusting me,’” Tracy recalled last month, several years later. “Please tell me what’s going on.” As Will began to open up, Tracy realized that the conversation was just the beginning of a long journey around mental health. And that first step—truly listening—was exactly what her son needed most. 

Over the past several years, Tracy has retold that story regularly as a mental health advocate, writer, and speaker, including for companies like American Express, AT&T and Oracle. Today, Will is feeling much better, thanks to many conversations, therapy, and medication, among other factors.

Yet the shock of Will’s hidden struggles became a catalyst for change. She’s shared her family’s story and organized awareness campaigns, focusing on breaking down the stigma surrounding mental health. She also became a speaker at schools, sharing her family's story to help other students and parents recognize the often subtle signs of anxiety, depression and other emotions. 

Tracy, who lives near Atlanta, remains grateful for that pivotal moment when Will opened up to her and she chose to listen. That initial conversation not only strengthened their relationship but also set her on a path to help so many other families.

“I am forever grateful for his astonishing courage, for his trust in his family, and for shining a light into the darkness,” Tracy wrote about Will. “Talking about mental health at work is still quite uncommon. In recent years, some of us were running a business, a daycare, and a school from our homes, yet we still came to work with our brave face on trying to ‘white knuckle’ our way through it all. That’s the façade we need to destroy; that’s the wall I want to tear down.”

This interview with Tracy has been edited lightly for brevity and clarity. 

About when did Will’s depression start?

When he was around 9 years old. That’s young, but it can start then, and young kids don’t have the language to say they’re depressed. Will had said he had felt a black cloud following him around. He said he had been struggling for years, and said he had forgotten what it felt like to be joyful. 

I beat myself up for a while. My husband did, too. We asked each other how we could have missed this. At one point, Will said to me, “You have to stop beating yourself up for not knowing. I don’t blame you. Whether intentional or not, I hid it from you.” He didn't want to scare us, and he didn’t really have the language or understanding to tell us. 

Thankfully, mental health language is more prevalent today and people are open to talking about how they feel. 

Yes. One time I was speaking to a group, and a lady in the audience noted that she has had her kids see a therapist annually since they were 8 years old. It’s a mental checkup, just like everyone goes for a physical checkup. She said that by doing this, they’ll have already formed a relationship with someone they’re comfortable with. If they ever do feel down and need therapy, they’ll have someone who knows them. Why not take that preventative measure rather than waiting until a crisis? We all have mental health, and we want to make sure it's good mental health.

It sounds like you’ve met a lot of folks through your speaking.

I met a woman through my website who wrote a book. Although it looks like a kid's book, I've given it to people of all ages, and I endorse it wherever I can. It’s called Ezra's Invisible Backpack and it’s about a kid at school whose teacher talks about how we all carry backpacks that nobody can see. Sometimes, the backpack has heavy bricks because you’re carrying a lot. Maybe you got into a fight with your mom — that would be a brick in the backpack. 

Everyone is carrying a backpack of bricks. The story teaches empathy, because kids look around and think everybody else looks OK. Will certainly did. But what we don't know is that we all carry something. The book gives the kids language to talk about difficult feelings.

Tell us about the Dear World photo. 

At Will’s college orientation, they got kids together with Dear World where you take a big black marker. Many students write their story on their bodies, then they take a photo. Will sent us his, which is on his arm. It says, “I can feel the daylight again.”

When we saw that photo, we broke down. He could articulate and tell us how he was feeling, and he was telling strangers his story. I felt I could breathe again. He wasn’t necessarily “cured,” but he was on his way. That photo affected me to my core, so I wrote about it in a blog post, which went viral. 

You and Will did an interview with CBS. Did that drive more conversations?

We loved it, it also got a great response. It was cathartic for Will. It helped his healing. And it’s contagious. 

I started talking to companies, including American Express, AT&T, and Oracle, about mental health. The workplace is the last place you will be honest about what you’re going through. Will and I also did one talk together for court clerks. Will is a big guy — 6-foot-4 — with a presence and voice, which matters in breaking the stigma. One guy came up to him in tears. He’s like, “Man, I struggled with that, but I would never be able to talk about it publicly. Now I’m going to get help. You made me see that it’s OK to ask for help.” 

That is beautiful. What else helped in the healing process?

Therapy, first and foremost. We also put quotes around the house or memes. For years, I’d ask how he was doing, and he’d say, “I’m just tired.” That kind of became our code. Eventually, I knew that meant he was having a hard day. When you love someone who is struggling, you can’t make it better. You have to just be there to listen, support, love, and help them get the resources they need.

Medication has helped. I’ve struggled with anxiety myself, and I take medication. A guy named Shane Koyczan has a piece called Instructions for a Bad Day that reminds us that we all have bad days, and we need to reach out to one another. 

Will really liked Linkin Park. Their song, Numb, resonated with him, so we’d play Linkin Park to pick us up. We both started meditating. I use Insight Timer. Every morning, I try to go to our basement in our Zen room. I sit there for a few minutes, which sets my mind for the day. It helps me not be frantically running around. Rather, I can set the day at my own pace and meditate. 

Exercise: walking or swimming really helps. Going for a hike in nature is beneficial.  I love journaling, which also helps relax the mind. It doesn’t have to be a lot of writing; it can just be listing a few things you’re grateful for, like a comfortable bed. 

Before Will, what was your experience with conversations about mental health?

We did not talk about it. I knew I struggled with anxiety, but I was the only person in my family going to therapy. My husband has struggled with depression at times. I thought I knew what depression was. But it manifests differently for everyone. 

As you know, sometimes you have no idea someone is struggling.

We have good friends whose only child, Michael “Keller” Zibilich, was a happy All-American kid. Yet he took his own life.

They had just talked to him and were going to attend a family wedding together. We think depression is not looking forward to the future or harming oneself, and that can be true, but it isn’t always the case. They didn’t know he had been struggling with panic attacks. Even his friend group didn’t know how much he had struggled.

Because Zeller was in a fraternity, his father speaks to fraternities and sororities. They set up hotlines at colleges to educate students about how to see the signs and what to do.

Tell us about the man who said you and Will had “healed this grown man’s heart.”

I posted a piece about mental health and Will on LinkedIn, which was risky because people don’t talk about this at work. But my whole point was: We should be talking about this at work. The response was unbelievable. 

A guy who lives near us said he had cried reading the post and what had happened to Will. He said it healed him from childhood trauma and struggles with depression. He mentioned that his parents didn't know how to recognize it or help him, and they basically said he had nothing to be sad about. He told me he wanted me to know that he was grateful we had “healed this grown man’s heart who has struggled for so long.” 

Spreading kindness is one of your habits. Explain. 

When you're watching someone struggle, you feel hopeless. There’s no magic word or band aid. At some point, I felt pent up energy to put some kindness in the world and help people struggling. I came across a nonprofit called “Don’t Give Up Signs” and bought a bunch of their yard signs for friends, families and strangers. The group that started this had a lot of suicides in their community, and this was something to give people hope. 

One neighbor said the signs helped their son talk about his depression, and that the signs helped him not want to give up. He sought help. Another story: A person had just lost their father and was sad beyond belief, but he said something like, “I saw your sign, it just gave me hope.” I don’t always know who the signs affect, but they are making a difference, and people love them. They say things like, “You're not alone,” and “One day at a time,” and “It's not too late.”

Photo Courtesy of Dear World

You’ve written letters to family and friends expressing how you appreciate them. How did that come to be?

I wrote a post about my dad after he died. He always told us how much he loved us. After I wrote that, it got such a beautiful response. Part of me was like, gosh, I wish I had told him this when he was alive. I wish he had something to go back to if he was ever having a hard time because I found out late in his life that he had struggled with anxiety.

I said, dad, I wish I knew this. He was just this big strong military man, and I don’t think he wanted me to know the struggles that he’d had. But he inspired me and I said, you know, I’m going to write letters to my close family. I want them to know how much I love them, why I love them, what we’ve done together, and why it means a lot to me. 

Instead of stockings for Christmas one year, we hand wrote one another notes. I’ve kept copies of all of them. I wrote letters to our kids, which they loved, and I told them I want them to have those long after I’m gone, so they will never question how loved they are. 

It takes a kind of maturity for Will to recognize that the sadness and depression might not just go away. He has said it will likely be with him throughout his life. It’s not necessarily about eradicating these feelings and emotions, or having the expectation that they will go away.

I was flying to see Will at college a few years ago, and I remember — because I struggle with anxiety, too — being on the flight and suddenly having this thought like, what if? I feared he wouldn’t be doing well. When I got there, I asked how he was doing and, instead of just saying, “I’m fine,” he said, “Here’s the thing, mom, I’m going to live with this for the rest of my life. But it really has been a gift. It has taught me who I am and what's important. It's taught me who my friends are, it's taught me how to be open, and now I have the coping mechanisms. So when I start to spiral, I know how to pull myself out.”

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Celebrate your gifts,

Matthew