The aftermath: Majak Daw’s painful recovery from suicide attempt

AFL star Majak Daw has revealed the agony he suffered as he recovered in hospital after his Bolte Bridge plunge. Worse than the pain, was the judgement.

Eighteen months after breaking his hips and pelvis falling from the Bolte Bridge when his mental health reached an all-time low, Majak Daw made a triumphant return to AFL. In this extract from his new book, Majak, he details the heartache of his hospital stay and the high of his first game back with North Melbourne.

AFTER ATTEMPTING SUICIDE BY PLUNGING OFF A BRIDGE IN LATE-2018

There was absolutely nowhere to hide, which was making me feel worse. I desperately needed some privacy; I was crying out for it but being ignored.

I wasn’t even allowed to have my phone or turn the television on, because those around me were worried that I would hear and see what the media and the general public were saying about me.

The reality was the world was actually showing me love and support. I’ve since seen all the messages and well-wishes that were posted to social media and sent to my private phone, and it was probably what I needed to read and see at the time.

Instead of feeling all that warmth and compassion, however, I felt completely trapped, isolated and claustrophobic. At times, there were 200 people in the waiting room and spilling into the hallways.

Daw celebrates his first game back with the Roos at Metricon Stadium. Picture: Michael Klein

The floor I was on was jammed with people waiting to see me. It was a nightmare not only for me, but also for the nurses, doctors and hospital staff trying to tend to me and other patients.

By far the most shattering time came when my little brother, Ajak, arrived to see me. As soon as we locked eyes, he broke down crying, ran over to my bedside and hugged me and wouldn’t let me go. It really broke my heart, and I can feel it breaking again talking about that moment now.

At just 12 years-old, Ajak was still trying to make sense of the world, and I think my actions really confused him. In his head he was probably thinking, ‘my brother just tried to kill himself’, and it would have been particularly hard for him to come to terms with, because he’s always put me on a pedestal.

Being so much younger than me, he watched on as I became somewhat of a celebrity and idol for many kids in our community, including him. We used to do a lot of things together when I started playing footy, when he was about five or so.

THE IMPACT MY SUICIDE ATTEMPT HAD ON MY LITTLE BROTHER WAS SHATTERING

Even when I moved out of home, I used to pick him up on my days off and we’d spend time together, go for long drives and just hang out. I was a bit of a hero to him and I think he realised when he saw me in hospital that everything in life is not necessarily what it seems.

The big brother he’d thought was faultless and invincible was anything but, and was lying there before him, a broken and lost soul.

I struggled to get the sleep I so desperately needed to recover from my injuries. The drugs helped knock me out to a point, but every time I drifted off, a doctor or nurse would come in and wake me up to check my vital signs and pain levels.

Other times, when I coughed or shifted in bed, I’d be woken by a sharp, intense pain unlike anything I’d never experienced. It was excruciating.

Each time I opened my eyes, a new person would be sitting or lying next to me. I had a lot of extended family coming in, like uncles and aunties, but on many occasions, I had no idea who the people in my room were.

One of the hardest things to deal with after his suicide attempt was the confusion of his little brother Ajak, who worshipped him. He’s pictured here several years’ ago, aged three. Picture: News Corp

SOME PEOPLE WERE PRAYING FOR ME WHILE OTHERS SEEMED MAD AT ME

Some people were praying for me while others seemed mad at me and would bluntly ask, ‘Why did you do this to us?’ and ‘Why did you bring this hurt and shame on your family?’ It was almost like they were blaming me for their pain and disappointment.

One time, I woke to find a woman lying on the bed with me.

I had no idea who she was and had never seen her before.

It was such an invasion of my privacy but I didn’t have the strength to even utter the words, ‘Can you please f--- off and leave me alone?’

Mum and Dad kept asking me why I had done what I had, and I could tell they were looking for someone to point the finger at. They couldn’t, or wouldn’t, accept that I had brought all of it on myself and, ultimately, I was to blame for my actions.

It was particularly hard for them, because I don’t think they had a good comprehension of what depression or mental health actually is.

For them, when an incident happens like a car accident, there’s someone to blame and someone at fault. There’s a clear reason as to why one thing led to another.

EVERYONE WAS DEMANDING ANSWERS FROM ME ABOUT WHY

The hard part about mental health is that it doesn’t always make sense to those who aren’t experiencing the pain or trauma; it’s sometimes illogical and hard to understand. So, looking at it from Mum and dad’s point of view, I can see why they were confused and felt let down by those closest to me.

While everyone was demanding answers from me about why I plunged off the bridge, I just didn’t have the energy to go back in my mind and relive it all in an effort to explain my actions. In the end, I had a massive argument with my dad about the way he was treating me and Emily, and how he was allowing all these strangers into my room.

I yelled at him out of frustration one morning: ‘Just get out! Get everyone out of here, please!’ and ‘you’re making things far worse in here for me and I can’t recover! I need some sleep and time alone!’

Two of my uncles were particularly harsh towards me, and I felt they really attacked me for what I had supposedly done to damage the reputation of the family. At a time when I was most vulnerable, they chose to berate me, which was extremely hurtful and disappointing.

All I needed was people to just wrap their arms around me and show me they loved me, but that was too hard for some to do. My perception of what was happening was different to the reality.

I look back now at the actions of those people at the time and don’t hold any grudges, because I understand cultural beliefs and systems were in play. I realise no one had any experience with this sort of stuff, and to have a family member try to suicide would have turned all their worlds upside down.

Daw says his family struggled to understand “why I’d done what I’d done”. Picture: AAP

MY FOOTY COMEBACK: 18 MONTHS AFTER THE SUICIDE ATTEMPT

When we arrived at Metricon Stadium on the Gold Coast, I walked past the property room and saw the property steward, Carly Fox, laying out my jumper with the No. 1 on the back. The manufacturer’s tag was still attached, and it looked so fresh and vibrant because it hadn’t been worn yet.

I went over and grabbed it, feeling a rush of energy course through my veins. I know it sounds cliche, but you have to earn the right to pull on the North Melbourne jumper, and I, of all people, felt I had done that over the past 18 months or so. I think some players take wearing the jumper for granted, but it would be impossible for me to do that given what I had been through to get to this stage.

The vibe in the rooms was electric, and I tried to absorb every moment as the clock ticked down to the first bounce of the ball. Like riding a bike, I slipped back into my pre-game routine from 2018 with ease. I got my ankles strapped, had some physio treatment and sat in the team meeting.

Rhyce’s pre-game speech, about an hour-and-a-half out from the game, didn’t mention my comeback at all, which was great. I didn’t want to get too overwhelmed or fired up that far out from the game.

We were playing the winless Adelaide Crows – the worst performing team in the AFL that year. However, we weren’t going that well either, having only won two games out of the eight we’d played so far. Most punters thought we’d win, but the Crows had played some good football and only narrowly lost to Essendon the week before. We knew we’d have to be at our best to beat them.

Before every game, we have a tradition at North Melbourne – all the players go into the locker room and stand in a circle, shirtless, and we all pull on our jumpers together. On this occasion our acting captain, Robbie Tarrant, came forward to rev us all up and make a pre-game speech.

He congratulated Shaun Higgins for playing 100 games for the club and then looked over at me. ‘Maj. We all love ya, mate,’ he said. ‘It’s an amazing effort, we’re really proud of ya. Let’s get out there and let’s give him a chance. We’ve gotta get the ball going forward.’

There was some clapping and words of encouragement for me from the other boys as we all pulled on our jumpers together. It was such a great feeling to pull mine on again – some 706 days since the last time I had worn it in an AFL game.

Daw celebrating after his first game back. Picture: Getty Images

I REALLY WANTED TO .... MAKE IT A FAIRYTALE RETURN

Although only a small crowd was allowed in to watch the game, because of Covid restrictions, I was still full of nerves and excitement as we ran out onto the ground.

In the fourth quarter, we were leading by about 40 points, and I had my first opportunity to kick a goal. I had worked myself into the game and was having an impact around the ground and in the ruck, but I really wanted to hit the scoreboard to make it a fairytale return.

My chance came with about 15 minutes left, when Shaun Atley broke free from congestion just outside our defensive 50. He sprinted forward with the ball and took a bounce. I had led up towards him then doubled back towards goal.

Shaun read my mind and kicked the ball over the back of my opponent, Talia, and safely into my hands for a mark about 30 metres out from goal on a slight angle.

Shaun Higgins yelled out to me, ‘Maj! You’ve kicked goals like this more than a hundred times! You know what to do, mate . . . just back your routine in and kick through the ball.’

I tried to block out all the noise and the significance of the moment and walked back towards the 50-metre line to begin my run-up. I felt quite relaxed and confident. I took a deep breath and started my approach.

After a few steps, I increased my pace, and when I felt the time was right, I dropped the ball onto my right boot and swung my leg through. The ball came off my foot perfectly.

I didn’t even have to finish watching the ball sail through the middle of the goalposts – I just knew it was going through. I clenched both fists and yelled, ‘yeahhhhhhhh!’ as my teammates came running towards me from every part of the ground to celebrate.

There were hugs, kisses, pats on the head – you name it, I copped it from the boys. It was a very special moment, probably the best moment of my career.

Edited extract from Majak, by Majak Daw with Heath O’Loughlin © Penguin Random House. Available in print and audio from August 3.

Originally published as The aftermath: Majak Daw’s painful recovery from suicide attempt