Recently, my self-worth fell under attack. Fortunately, I’m a depressive. As such, I am considerably better than anyone else at attacking myself with cutting insults or withering condemnation. This experience at mental self-flagellation serves me very well in my avocation of refereeing, but I’d be lying if I told you I can shrug off any insult because of my depressive mind.

No, I’m as human as everyone else, and some comments genuinely hurt. For a few moments, at least.

It’s been my experience that the individuals who question my self-worth or my integrity are also the people that don’t know me very well. Close friends and family may call me out on my behavior if it is out of step with how I usually am, but that is almost always done in a calm and concerned manner. Most assaults on my value as a human being are angry, boisterous, and not in proportion to whatever perceived slight I gave.

As a referee I get verbally attacked plenty. It’s part of the job description, but as my mentors stressed to me: there is a difference between insulting a call and insulting integrity. The former is part of the game, the latter makes it personal. My role, in that moment, is to remain steady and give no reaction to the insult other than penalizing the offender. If I get angry in response, I’ve only served to escalate the situation — not good. If I do nothing, the insults will continue and likely get worse — also, not good.

I’ve become adept at separating myself from my referee persona, but what happens when the game is over? I do what anyone else would do. I endlessly replay the situation in my head. Searching for some way to have avoided the entire confrontation, wondering if I deserved the insult, and pretending to give a devastating, yet unprofessional, retort. Because I know how my brain works, I knew I was in for a few days of questioning myself as a referee and as a person. Thankfully, I have an effective weapon against that nasty depressive mindset — my support system.

My support system is made up of family, close friends, and mentors. These are the people who I can trust to tell me the truth, and they are the people I use to define my self-worth. This started after my third hospitalization when I had an angry epiphany due to an exceptional group therapist.

Therapist: Do you believe the other clients have value as human beings?

Me: Of course.

Therapist: Are you a human being?

Me: Yes.

Therapist: Then do you believe you have value the same as every other human being?

Me: Ah, shit.

I had been forced out of my depressive belief that I had no worth by pure logic, and that infuriated me. My depression wanted me to believe that I was the only human being on the planet that wasn’t worth anything. A crafty therapist destroyed the belief that depression infected me with, but I still had a problem. I had no way of building my own self-worth. So, I turned to others.

I decided that, in the absence of feeling good about myself, I would borrow those feelings from a select few. These individuals became a part of my initial support network. When I doubted my self-worth, I’d reach out to one of them, or remember something positive that they had to say to me about something I did.

My referee mentors and colleagues became the only people whose opinion I cared about when it came to my officiating.

Certain co-workers were my barometer to how I performed at work.

My therapist was my check on overly critical thoughts.

Eventually, over a span of many years, I developed my own sense of self-worth. Fragile and easily broken at the beginning, but now I am able to withstand the most internal attacks on my psyche. For the more severe, external attacks on my personhood, I still rely on my support network. For the next few days after that game, I called friends and mentors. They gave me their valued opinions on the situation and validated my response. After a few days I stopped replaying the scenario in my head because the people who I use to define my self-worth reinforced who I am as a referee and as a person.

I find it telling that when I believed I had no self-worth, I also didn’t let anyone support me.

Call it self-worth, self-esteem, or self-confidence, there is only so much that the “self” can manage on its own. My self-worth is determined by myself, in conjunction with the people I care about, and that, I believe, makes my self-worth that much stronger.