Note: this transcript has been edited for clarity, grammar, and flow.
Darcy: We acknowledge the lives lost to suicide and recognise those who have survived suicide attempts and those who struggle today or in the past with thoughts of suicide, mental health challenges, and crisis situations. We acknowledge all those who have felt the deep impact of suicide, including those who love, care for, and support people experiencing suicidality, as well as those experiencing the pain and bereavement through suicide.
We respect collaboration with people who have a lived or living experience of suicide and mental health challenges and value their contribution to the work we do.
Tom: At 22 years old, I reached a point where I hadn’t slept in weeks. I was starting to get injured, I was getting sick, and I was really struggling just to get through day-to-day life.
Darcy: Welcome to Holding on to Hope, a series that shares the stories of everyday Australians who have experienced moments of crisis and found a path to support. Whilst all the stories shared offer hope and inspiration, at times, you may hear something triggering. If you or someone you know needs crisis support, please phone Lifeline on [13 11 14](tel: 13 11 14), text [0477 13 11 14](tel: 0477 13 11 14), or visit lifeline.org.au for the Lifeline chat service, available 24/7.
Ruben: Hello, and thank you for joining me. I’m Ruben, a volunteer telephone crisis supporter at Lifeline. I’m one of the voices you may hear if you call for support.
At the age of 15, I lost my dear father to suicide. Ever since that day, I’ve wished my father had the opportunity to talk to someone like me when he needed it most. Thirteen years later, and four years into my journey with Lifeline, I’m now part of that opportunity. This is why I’m so passionate about hosting this series. If you’re not quite ready to talk, perhaps you’ll find comfort in listening to the stories of people who have experienced the value of reaching out for help.
In 2013, at the age of 18, Tom Boyd was recognised as the best junior footballer in Australia and became the first pick in the AFL National Draft. However, after beginning an illustrious career, things started to unravel. Tom ultimately made the tough decision midway through the 2019 season to walk away from his career, despite having two years and over $2 million remaining on his contract. He chose instead to carve his own path and destiny.
Today, Tom joins us to share his inspirational personal story and how he manages his mental health on a daily basis. At only 27 years old, Tom has accumulated immense life experience, and I’m sure you’re looking forward to hearing his story just as much as I am.
Tom, it’s nice to finally meet you in person. I really appreciate your time. You’ve had a remarkable career in the AFL and now do incredible work in mental health. Are you able to take us back to your younger years, maybe around 14 or 15, during your formative years?
Tom: It’s probably worth going back a little further to when I first started playing sports as a young kid. I was always passionate about it, playing a lot of basketball and football. I idolised my father—he was a bit of a local legend in the Eastern Football League, where I grew up playing junior sport.
That passion drove me to play well and helped me overcome the physical and emotional challenges of notoriously tough sports, particularly football. Basketball had its own challenges too, but football was where I really started to shine.
In my first year of school, I grew 27 centimetres from the start of the year to the end. That continued as I moved through the ranks—first interleague, then regional teams, and eventually as captain of the Victorian State Football side at 16, playing a national carnival in Blacktown.
At the same time, I was also progressing through the State Basketball process. By then, I was doing 11 or 12 sports sessions a week, travelling most weekends around the state, and eventually the country, for carnivals. It became overwhelming. My body started to tell me I wasn’t as invincible as I thought. I had to make the tough decision to choose one sport.
I also had the good tension of my parents emphasising academics while I was focused on football. Thankfully, I managed to balance both, achieving good marks at school while progressing in football.
During this time, I was a really happy and high-functioning kid. I had balance - intellectual energy went into school and football, while my emotional and physical energy went into the game I loved. At 18, I was drafted as the first overall pick by the GWS Giants in 2013.
My first encounter with mental health challenges came when I moved interstate to join the Giants. Within 10 days of finishing my final school exam, I was in Sydney, running laps at my first training session.
It’s easy to overlook what this means for an 18-year-old who’s lived at home their whole life. I’d had a pretty sheltered upbringing, spending most of my time on school and football. Suddenly, I was thrust into adulthood - moving states, living alone, and adjusting to professional football.
The financial element of playing professionally also added pressure. Football became a job, not just something I did for fun with my mates. The stakes were different, and the dynamic of being paid to perform changed everything.
That’s when I first started experiencing persistent nervousness. It was like the feeling you get before a big speech or exam but all the time. The anxiety carried into the nights, and I couldn’t sleep, even though I was more physically and mentally drained than ever before.
To cope, I withdrew from my teammates. Not because I didn’t want to be around them but because I lacked the energy. On my days off, I’d go to the beach or do whatever I could to recharge. But this retreat sometimes gave people the impression that I was standoffish, which only added to the isolation I felt.
As I climbed through the ranks, the pressure mounted, but so did my performance. I thrived under the expectations and felt validated by my success. However, things started to unravel when I transitioned to the Western Bulldogs in 2015, signing a seven-year, $7 million contract.
I thought that moving closer to home and signing such a significant deal would fix everything. But the sleep issues, anxiety, and eventually depression followed me, worsening as time went on.
By 2016, I was stuck in a cycle of sleeplessness and exhaustion. I’d go three days without proper rest - training, playing games, and pushing through sheer fatigue. I thought winning the premiership would solve everything, so I pushed myself harder.
When we won the Grand Final in 2016, it was historic. Standing on the stage at the MCG in front of nearly 100,000 people should have been the pinnacle of my career. But just days later, after surgeries and recovery, I felt the dread set in again.
Winning the premiership in 2016 was an incredible experience. We made history - winning four games straight from seventh position on the ladder, something no team had done before. Standing on the stage at the MCG, surrounded by 99,981 people, I thought, What could possibly go wrong now?
But just eight days later, I was back at the club, recovering from shoulder surgery and then an ankle cleanout. For weeks, I was on crutches and in a sling. The physical toll, combined with the mental strain, became overwhelming. Walking back into the club, I felt an enormous sense of dread. I couldn’t imagine climbing that mountain again.
Things spiralled from there. By mid-2017, at 22 years old, I hadn’t slept in weeks. I was still playing at the top level, but my body was breaking down - I was constantly injured and sick, and I was struggling just to get through the day.
Darcy: We hope you’re enjoying this episode. If you’re not ready to speak to someone but would like more information, curated resources, and personal stories to support your journey, please visit the Support Toolkit. Now, back to the episode.
Ruben: What was your first step in getting support?
Tom: I reached a point where I knew I couldn’t keep going. There was no way I could get through another game, mentally or physically. I felt trapped and didn’t know where to turn, but something in me knew I needed to ask for help.
I picked up the phone and called the club psychologist, Lisa, who became an incredible support. For the first time, I admitted that I was struggling and needed help. Lisa helped me navigate not just my mental health, but also the complexities of being a high-profile player with so much pressure on my shoulders.
One of the pivotal moments came when the club asked me what I wanted to say to the media. They suggested vague reasons for my absence—personal issues, family matters, but it felt strange to hide the truth. I told Lisa that I wanted to be honest about what I was going through.
Sharing my story was important to me. I wanted people to understand that I wasn’t just “sad” or “tired”; I was physically unable to do my job. The sleeplessness, injuries, and exhaustion had taken a real toll, and I needed time to recover.
By the end of 2018, I was dealing with significant back injuries, which made it clear that my time in the AFL was nearing its end. I spoke with the club doctor and told him I was considering retirement. He advised me to wait until I’d recovered from my injuries before making such a big decision, and I’m glad I did.
In 2019, I returned to playing in the VFL. But it quickly became clear that my passion for the game was gone. I realised I couldn’t continue just for the paycheck - it wouldn’t be fair to my teammates or the club.
When I announced my retirement, I stood in front of the team and said, “Thank you. You’re the reason I lasted as long as I did, and certainly not the reason I’m leaving.” I joked that now would be a good time to renegotiate their contracts, since there’d be a bit of extra money in the salary cap. That moment allowed me to leave with a smile, knowing the choice was mine.
Ruben: Since stepping away from football, how have you managed to maintain your mental health?
Tom: It’s been a journey. One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is the importance of quality over quantity when it comes to mental health advocacy. Early on, I said yes to everything - every podcast, every charity, every opportunity to speak. But I realised that spreading myself too thin wasn’t sustainable.
Now, I focus on working closely with organisations like Lifeline, where I feel I can make the most impact. I’ve also learned to recognise when I need to take a break. It’s not always easy, but it’s critical for maintaining my wellbeing.
Self-care looks different for me now. I find joy and fulfilment in my work, my family, and spending time with my partner, Anna, and our daughter, Amani. Some days, I just put on headphones and take a moment for myself. Other days, I head to the coast for a surf.
The key is being adaptable. Life changes, and so do the things that keep us grounded. I’ve learned to trust my instincts - when it’s time to push forward and when it’s time to slow down.
Ruben: Looking back, what advice would you give to your 16-year-old self?
Tom: I try to avoid giving advice because everyone’s journey is different. But if I could tell my younger self one thing, it would be this: You’re not as unique as you think you are.
When I was younger, I thought no one could understand my problems. I believed I had to figure everything out on my own. That mindset was a mistake. There’s so much shared wisdom in the people around you - friends, family, mentors.
It took me years to realise that asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of strength. If I’d reached out sooner, I could have saved myself a lot of struggle.
Ruben: What’s next for you?
Tom: For the next 12 months, I’ll continue doing what I’m doing - working with Lifeline and WorkSafe, raising my daughter, and balancing my time between family and work.
It’s going to be busy, but I’m excited for what’s ahead. After the wedding and festivities, I’m looking forward to some rest and recovery before diving into the year ahead.
Ruben: Thank you, Tom. Your story is inspiring, and the work you’re doing is making a real difference. On behalf of Lifeline, we’re grateful for your contributions and your willingness to share your journey.
Tom: Thank you, Ruben. And thank you for the work you do. I’m proud to be part of Lifeline’s mission and look forward to continuing this work in the years to come.
Darcy: Thanks for listening to Holding on to Hope. Lifeline is grateful to all participants who share their personal lived experiences openly and courageously.
If you or someone you know needs crisis support, please phone Lifeline on 13 11 14, text 0477 13 11 14, or visit lifeline.org.au for the Lifeline chat service, available 24/7.