In her worst days, Orlagh Lally would retreat to her bed, shutting out the daylight with the aid of drawn curtains. It reminded her of a childhood game in which children cover their eyes, convinced of their own invisibility turning a blind eye to the surrounding world. She would remain hidden until the darkness guaranteed her solitude.
Lally describes a feeling of numbness that characterized those poor days. A lack of interest and concern for anything and everything was all-consuming. Personal care was non-existent, and disinterest rooted deep within her as she stared impassively at the wall. There were incredibly dark days when she wished she wasn’t there, wrestling with the will to be somewhere, anywhere else.
There were days when getting out of bed felt like an impossible task, days where she wished to remain oblivious to the world outside. As Lally reflects, her struggle was intense. This was just over a year ago, when at the age of 21, she held the titles as a three-time All-Ireland winner with Meath, an Aussie Rules player with Fremantle and pursued an active life through sports. But as the initial months of 2023 rolled in, she felt herself weighed down, trapped as if wading through viscous mire.
One particular weekend found Lally pushing herself to attend her team’s match against Mayo in Navan. Having represented her county from a young age, despite only starting football in school, this was her sanctuary. Even during her periods of seclusion, her teammates visited, reinforcing their bond. In returns, she attended the match at Páirc Tailteann. But her fight was far from over as she suffered a panic attack in the grandstand.
“Everything commenced to blur into darkness,” she recalls. “I was struggling for air. I was at a loss about what was happening. I had no grip on the situation. Captivatingly, the team’s medical advisor was present and immediately attended to me. Subsequently, I was rushed to the Emergency department at the psychiatric unit in Drogheda hospital.”
The journey from then until now has had its twists and turns. Medication was obligatory for a certain period, and therapy was a necessity for a prolonged timeline. She had to delve deep, to the very genesis of her issue. Although she was often mystified about how she would conquer her situation, she was always certain about why it needed to happen.
It’s inked right there on her arm. The tattoo inscribed “Óg Go Deo”, a tribute to her mate, Red Óg Murphy. Just two years ago, towards the end of this month, she was sharing a residence with Red Óg at DCU, when he tragically committed suicide. Upon being queried about her candid approach to discussing mental health, she alludes to his name.
“A significant moment of enlightenment for me was the horrifying incident with Red Óg. The instant thought that crossed my mind was that if I didn’t address this situation promptly, my fate could mirror his,” says Lally. “It’s frighteningly unpredictable when the burden becomes unbearable. Hence, his unfortunate demise despite being deeply mourned, created a significant turning point, potentially saving many lives, including mine.”
Lally is currently in a conversation via video call from her couch in Cockburn, a neighborhood approximately 15 minutes away from Fremantle. She decided to spend her off-season in Australia this winter, consciously distancing herself from football instead of returning to play for Meath. She recently committed to a new four-year AFLW contract and spends time coaching children from less privileged backgrounds thrice weekly, prior to her training sessions.
She took part in the All-Ireland championship, representing Meath last year, even though she had not played a single match in the league earlier. The dimness started to dissipate as she performed at the county level, but it presented its unique set of challenges. During this period, she was employed at Glanbia and was frequently confronted by individuals seeking explanations. It was difficult for her to decide how to respond. They were unlikely to appreciate the unvarnished truth.
She admits that, “the experience with Meath was indeed unique. Numerous rumours circulated about me. People had a variety of wild theories as to why I wasn’t on the field. I recall an instance, at work, when a man inquired if I wasn’t playing because I was pregnant! An assortment of stories followed. ‘Oh, I heard you had a dispute with the new coach.’ ‘Oh, I presumed you realised you were too skilled to play for Meath.’
“Internally, I would think, ‘if only you knew the reality.’ Most of the time, I wished I could simply tell them to leave me alone. Instead, I would just offer a benign smile, deny those assumptions and walk away; it was the most prudent course of actions.
“As a GAA player, you often feel indebted to the county and are no stranger to random comments. It’s important to remember that I was just a 21-year-old going through a difficult emotional phase. I was struggling with it privately, and public scrutiny was just adding to the challenge.
“I felt that I resonated with Red Óg on multiple levels. He was highly respected and admired, and because he was a GAA player, people felt a sense of entitlement over him. However, underneath the surface, his sentiments were quite the contrary.”
Lally was a newcomer to the GAA house in DCU where she was studying nursing, a journey that was far from smooth. The first year of her studies was entirely online due to the pandemic restrictions, and her second year involved countless hours of placement, none of which she enjoyed. Additionally, her residence was usually bustling with parties. Juggling her placement obligations, training, studies, and matches, she was seeking a more peaceful environment.
Lally’s memories of his cohabitation with four other chaps in the GAA residence were vivid, where challenges like teaching his housemate, Red Óg, the difference between poultry and salmon sounded quite amusing. According to Lally, the sight of an open-hearted young man who unabashedly expressed his profound love for his family was a rarity.
However, the suicide of Red Óg left his fellows at the GAA house, his family, and his teammates in disbelief. His parents, Redmond and Geraldine Murphy, were caught off guard, having no prior knowledge of his internal struggle. They have since emphasized the necessity of cherishing his memory over searching for unsolvable mysteries.
Determined to make a difference and catalyze open conversations on mental health among youth, particularly athletes, Red Óg’s parents have organized a mental health awareness event. Slated for the end of May at Summerhill College, Sligo, it features notable speakers like former rugby star, Alan Quinlan, past winner of the Dublin All-Ireland, Philly McMahon, Rory O’Connor of Rory’s Stories, and sports psychologist, Caroline Currid. The main point of discussion pertains to intersections of athletics and mental health.
Reflecting upon Red Óg’s death, Lally admitted to having battled with his own feelings of well-being. For him, Red Óg’s tragedy brought an understanding that it was okay not to feel okay, contradicting his previous misconception of his emotions being overly magnified or self-created issues.
Red Óg was perceived by all as an icon; loved, envied and idolised by everyone, including girls my own age who wanted to be with him. However, it occurred to me that it is acceptable not to be perfect, despite appearances suggesting otherwise. The same applied to my circumstances; even my beloved father, with whom I enjoy a close relationship, couldn’t truly comprehend my thoughts, hence the façade of a perfect life was displayed. Even whilst I was the light-hearted entertainer, my heart was heavy with distress.
My life today, according to Orlagh Lally, may look quite the same as it was a year before, at a cursory glance. She still holds the title of a three-time All-Ireland champion, she continues her profession in Aussie Rules, and sports remains an integral part of her life. However, the strenuous effort she has put into self-development over the past year, oblivious to the outside world, has significantly altered her perception of herself.
She emphasises the fact that mental reconditioning is quite challenging, contradicting the notion of it being as simple as having a conversation. She shares her observation that the impact of this change might just go unnoticed for a significant duration of three to four months, however, third person perceptions sometimes reveal the results.
She ends with the reflection of how she’s living the life Red Óg would have revelled in. He was not only gifted in football but also one of the purest souls she had ever come across. She feels part of this life she’s living is in honour of him. This understanding has brought a newfound love for existance and the opportunities it presents.
If this article has influenced you in any way, Pieta House is available for contact at 1800-247247, alternatively feel free to reach out to the Samaritans either by dialing 116123 free of charge or texting HELP to 51444.
For current discussions and scrutiny, lend an ear to our “Inside Politics” podcast. Should you wish to receive regular updates right to your phone, you are encouraged to subscribe to our push notifications offering top-tier news, commentary, and analysis.
To remain informed, connect with The Irish Times on WhatsApp.