Founding a startup is a cognitive sport.

Most founders treat themselves worse than their company treats its infrastructure. Just build things as fast as possible. Don’t worry about what’s going to break until it falls apart. There’s no time. The phrase “tech debt” is a cliché because it is everywhere. “Founder physiological debt” is the same.

I’ve been watching the gap between founders and the help they need for over thirty years. The data underneath it is grim. Founders are 50% more likely to report a mental health condition than the rest of the population. 72% say the job has affected their mental health. Only 23% see anyone about it.

The gap isn’t denial. Most of the founders I know are aware the job is mentally taxing. They just don’t have an obvious place to go. The standard system is fragmented. A therapist who’s never met your doctor. A doctor who’s never seen your sleep data. A nutritionist your assistant booked once. Bookmarked podcasts that you never get to.

Unless a founder prioritizes their mental health, nothing happens.

What founders actually need is what every other high-performance field has had for decades. One team, one plan, and one dataset that looks at the whole person continuously. Elite athletes have it. Special operators have it. Concert musicians have it. But founders never have.

Until now.

I’ve been an investor in Meru Health for a while. Meru is a clinical mental health provider and their approach is rigorous enough to treat severe and treatment-resistant conditions, with fourteen peer-reviewed outcome studies from Stanford, Harvard, and UCSF.

This month they launched Meru Health Advanced, the most complete program they’ve built. It treats mental and physical health as one system.

Technically, Meru Health Advanced is a lifestyle medicine program. Lifestyle medicine is a recognized branch of medicine built around six pillars: nutrition, physical activity, sleep, stress management, social connection, and the avoidance of risky substances. Most people pursuing it assemble it themselves from six providers across six apps. Meru Health put all six on one team: psychiatrist, therapist, registered dietitian, care navigator, and health coach. One shared plan. A continuous stream of biometric data over six to twelve months.

Here’s how the pillars work.

Nutrition. A registered dietitian who looks at what you actually eat, not a generic plan from a podcast.

Sleep. Continuous biometric monitoring, so the team sees the real picture instead of what you tell them you slept.

Stress management. Evidence-based therapy from a clinician who has already read the other clinicians’ notes.

Physical activity. Tied directly into the rest of the plan, not handed off to a separate trainer.

Social connection. Treated as clinical input, not a soft factor.

Substance use. On the table from the first conversation, not the fifth.

Psychiatry. On the team from day one, because the line between mental and physical performance is fictional, and the founders who pretend otherwise pay for it later.

One team. One plan. One dataset. Six pillars. Six to twelve months. Run by clinicians who have done this for forty-five thousand patients. Available on a self-pay basis.

Meru Advanced is the first thing I’ve seen that lets a founder run themselves the way they’d address key business issues: deliberately, with data, and with a team paid to make them better at their job.

If you’re a founder, this is worth your money. Start here, or email Meru and tell them that Brad sent you.

Disclosure: I’m an investor in Meru Health.

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. I’ve been writing about my own depression and mental health on this blog for over a decade. The stigma around founder mental health is still the core problem. 72% of founders say the entrepreneurial journey has negatively affected their mental health. 81% don’t talk about it.

James Oliver Jr. is doing something about it. He started the Kabila Founder Mental Health Fund to get founders into therapy when they can’t afford it themselves. The fund pays for four therapy sessions through BetterHelp, or reimburses up to $300 if the founder already has a therapist. No complicated process. No strings. The fund has already helped 50+ founders.

I put $25K into the fund several years ago to get it started. The Techstars Foundation has been a partner. Now through May 31, every dollar donated will be matched dollar-for-dollar by me up to another $25,000.

Donate to the Kabila Founder Mental Health Fund - your $150 becomes $300 - four therapy sessions for a founder who needs it.

James and Django De Gree II wrote Burn Bright, Not Out: Shattering the Silence Around Mental Health in Tech Startups. David Cohen wrote the foreword. I contributed Chapter 4 - my own mental health story. 90% of net book profits go directly to the fund.

I’m giving away my chapter. Download Chapter 4 for free here. If it resonates, buy the book.

The NVCA is hosting a webinar on founder mental health on May 7th from 3-4pm ET. James is moderating. I’ll be on the panel. If you’re a founder or an investor, join us.

I’m backing James because I’ve been there. Mental health is not a weakness. It’s a part of being human. If you’re a founder struggling right now - you’re not broken. Get help.

I’m currently at the Global Entrepreneurship Congress 2025 in Indianapolis. Yesterday, at the end of the day, I spent several hours at High Alpha hanging out with my friends and then doing a Give First: The Power of Mentorship book event with them and about 150 people.

One of the questions during the book talk was around mental health and entrepreneurship. I talked about my own experiences with anxiety and depression and explained that my core diagnosis, which I was diagnosed with in my 20s, was obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). I said that one of my goals for being open was to destigmatize mental health issues, especially in the context of entrepreneurship and mentioned that I periodically hear something like “I’m OCD and it’s my superpower” and dismissed that idea as nonsense, since OCD is an insidious thing that gets in the way of so many things in life.

While I was in hibernation, I conducted a long-form (60-minute) video interview with NOCD, an outstanding company in Chicago that is now the world’s leading provider of OCD treatment. I mentioned it during the talk yesterday, but woke up this morning realizing I’d never blogged about it.

(If you are receiving this via email, a YouTube embed should be included below. If it’s a bunch of text that looks like garbled code, click through on the header of this email to my website to watch this. There’s no need to tell me since I’ll get the same mess in the email as I try to get MailChimp working correctly again.)

In the video, I cover a lot of ground, as shown in the show notes.

0:00 Intro
1:07 If OCD Was A Movie Title
1:58 Underlying Obsessions
3:38 How OCD Has Affected Brad’s Life At Different Points
11:02 Mental Exhaustion And OCD
15:06 Separating The Obsessions And The Compulsions
20:15 Why Brad Speaks Openly About Mental Health
30:42 Dispelling OCD Misconceptions
37:27 Brad’s Purpose
40:27 Brad’s Advice For His Younger Self
51:18 What Companies Can Do For Mental Health
55:12 Post-Therapy Movie Titles
58:30 Outro

Feel free to reach out to me anytime around this topic (OCD or mental health) as it continues to be important to me to destigmatize this, especially in this moment.

After I wrote my post on Unhibernating, my long-time, empathetic friend Christopher Schroeder, whom I originally met through Ben Casnocha (that story is discussed in Give First: The Power of Mentorship), sent me a short note asking, “Have you been ok?”

I responded with a long email explaining why I decided to hibernate in the summer of 2023 and why this hibernation lasted almost two years. After writing a long email (which I’ve been doing a lot of during my hibernation), I asked Chris if I could post my response to my blog, and he said, “Of course.”

The following is my answer to Chris’s question, “Have you been ok? ” I’ve edited it for grammar.

Yes – I’ve been ok.

A couple of things were going on that converged in the summer of 2023.

• I realized I was completely burned out from public stuff. The inbound requests were endless, and even though I could say no to many of them, I wasn’t enjoying them.

• I was tired of the VC industry and its noise. The endless self-promotion combined with “I know the answer – look at me” mixed with thought pieces ghostwritten by marketing professionals and then endless VC Twitter from the same person, much of which didn’t line up philosophically, got me down. And, well, podcasts are so easy compared to writing – the person blathers on about whatever is on their mind, reacts to a current thing, and influences so many with such thin suppositions that are often nonsense.

• Some people I thought I’d respected had shifted some of their behavior, not as extreme as it is now, but it was increasingly distasteful to me. 

• Critical thinking seems to have been discarded in many parts of my world. The view was, “If I assert something loudly or strongly enough, over and over, it becomes the truth.”

• We had closed our latest fund (spring 2023), and I wasn’t enthusiastic about making new investments. After—I dunno—a thousand direct investments, hundreds of fund investments, and a zillion indirect investments, I was cooked.

So, I took a break from all public engagement. It took me about three months to stop looking at anything but I eventually whittled it down to the daily Techmeme email. I also unsubscribed to almost everything, so my inbox became only work and personal emails. I even unsubscribed to Axios Pro Rata (by far the best VC daily) for a while.

I worked plenty (15 boards, supported anyone in our portfolio that needed help), spent a lot of time with Amy, continued not to travel for work, read a few books a week, and ran a lot. I continued supporting philanthropic and government efforts in the background, helping anyone who wanted to lead, but not being public or forward-facing. I also shifted to default no on everything, so I needed a close relationship with someone asking for help to say yes.

I was in great physical shape and planned a three-week, 300-mile run across New York State on the Empire Trail in August 2024. Jerry Colonna would accompany me in an SUV, move my stuff from place to place, and hang out with me when I wasn’t running. And then, Amy and I got Covid for the first time on June 2nd. After being diligent, avoiding it for a long time, and being very hermit-like, I got it randomly during a month in Boulder, where Amy and I were more social than usual. I never figured out who I got it from, and didn’t appear to give it to anyone we were with, so it was as random as it gets.

I tested positive for 21 days and felt extremely crappy for six weeks. I cancelled my run across New York State and, as the summer unfolded, realized I was exhausted all the time. If I went for a three-mile run, I’d have to sleep for a few hours in the afternoon just to be functional. This continued into the fall, after which I accepted that I needed more sleep. Nine months later, I sleep 90 to 120 minutes more a night than I used to (I haven’t used an alarm clock since 2013, so I get up when I wake up.) I’m running a little more (maybe 10 – 15 miles a week), but if I run over 20 miles weekly, I fall apart and need to rest for two to three days. Maybe it’s long Covid, but no one knows what this means. Perhaps it’s sneaking up on 60. Maybe it’s something else.

I picked up Pilates and got disciplined through the winter (twice a week). I’m stretching more (age). I’m trying to get into a weight lifting rhythm (I have inadequate upper body strength – I’ve always been an upper body wimp). But I’m accepting age and know that strength is vital to longevity. I lost a lot of weight (thank you, gila monsters, for helping with that), and all my bloodwork, including cholesterol, is in a normal range for the first time in as long as I can remember.

I worked on Give First: The Power of Mentorship a few years ago after finishing The Entrepreneur’s Weekly Nietzsche: A Book for Disruptors, sent it out to about 25 people for feedback, and, after getting the feedback, was pretty unhappy with the state of the book. I decided to put it on the shelf. I took it down in the fall and started working on it again, but slowly. By the end of the year, I had restructured and rewritten a lot of it, and was excited about it again. I felt my internal energy around engaging with people starting to build up again, and upon reflection, realized how depleted I was in the summer of 2023.

Amy and I are doing great. She continues to be an amazing partner, and I’m overjoyed to spend most of my time with her (both waking and asleep!). While I’ll travel a little this summer, maybe she’ll come with me—or maybe not. 

Regardless of everything going on in the world, I’m ok. Thanks for asking.

Startup Snapshot, a data-sharing platform for the entrepreneurial ecosystem, recently released its latest report, The Untold Toll: The Impact of stress on the well-being of startup founders and CEOs.

Clearly, the emotional state of founders and entrepreneurs in any period, especially now in this economic environment, is a critical driver of success. Yet the emotional, cognitive, and physical toll that founding and leading a startup takes is dangerously overlooked and rarely spoken about. 

Startup Snapshot is illuminating the current state of the startup mindset through global data collected from hundreds of founders in startups of all sizes, in all verticals. It’s the largest study of its kind. And it is honest and gritty, with no punches pulled.

• The startup grind takes a major toll on a founder’s mental health. 72% of founders reported that the entrepreneurial journey affected their mental health, 37% suffered from anxiety, and 36% from burnout.
• Founders are known for their innovative spirit, but in terms of therapy, they are stuck in the past. Only 23% of founders report going to a psychologist or coach.
• 50% of founders report a negative stigma around professional mental health support. Surprisingly, the stigma is higher for younger founders, with 59% of founders under 35 reporting a negative stigma, compared to only 47% of founders over 35. 
• Founders mask the stress, and it catches up to them. 81% of founders reported they do not openly share their stress, fears, and challenges, worried that vulnerability could affect their reputation or chances of success. 
• Venture capitalists need serious self-reflection as their portfolio companies don’t turn to them for support. Only 10% of founders reported that they talk to their investors about their stressors, worried that transparency could affect their chances of securing additional funding. 

Startup Snapshot is continuing to research founder mental health, if you want to take part in normalizing the dialogue around this important topic, reach out to yael@ybenjamin.com.

After my post about the Founder Mental Health Pledge, I received a note from Kari Palazzari, the Executive Director of Studio Arts Boulder, a local nonprofit that manages a community pottery studio. She lamented that very few members of the Boulder startup community seem to take advantage of their programs.

She said, “Studio Arts Boulder would love to help support the Founder Mental Health Pledge.”

A couple of my local colleagues have taken classes at the pottery studio, and they speak avidly about the impact of working with clay. It helped them be less stressed and more focused, which makes a big difference when tackling a startup’s unique problems. Kari said, “People come out of the studio less twitchy, for sure.”

There’s a lot of data about the impact of the arts. Making art, in particular, helps combat anxiety and depression. It improves cognitive function by making our brains more resilient and flexible, which means we become more creative problem-solvers all around. 

We can tackle the mental health challenges within our industry in many ways, and I encourage more of us to try art. Start small with a date night – offered by Studio Arts Boulder every Saturday. Or better yet, schedule a private program for your team at your office or in the pottery studio.

And if clay isn’t your jam, early next year, Studio Arts Boulder is opening a new facility that will include woodworking, blacksmithing, printmaking, and glass art studios. How cool is that?

Since the middle of last week, there has been extreme stress on founders, startup leaders, and the extended startup community. This stress accelerated on Friday when the FDIC shut down and took over Silicon Valley Bank. By late Friday, anyone who banked with SVB was concerned about … well … everything.

Once it became clear that payroll accounts needed to be funded on Monday to make Wednesday’s payroll, we focused on the immediate short-term to ensure our portfolio companies’ thousands of employees got paid on time. We bank at SVB, so our maneuverability was also unknown, so we searched for what I’d consider heroic options from various sources.

While this de-escalated on Sunday night after the US Government took decisive action, the level of stress and anxiety, especially for first-time founders, was extreme. I had many 1:1 conversations, emails, and messages with our portfolio company CEOs, along with several open Zoom lines where people could ask questions and just commiserate and feel part of a shared community. Much of this focused on addressing the immediate problem. But, many founders told me that just feeling part of a larger community was helpful.

Much will be written about this. Maybe I’ll get around to my version someday.

But, once again, I saw and experienced the extreme stress and anxiety that founders, CEOs, and leaders of startup companies face almost daily. It reinforced the importance to me of continuing to help destigmatize mental health (and mental fitness) issues across the startup community.

Yesterday, Aaron Gershenberg, a long-time friend and LP of ours from SVB Capital, emailed an introduction to Naveed Lalani, Founder & CEO of Pioneer Mind. Naveed has launched a Founder Mental Health Pledge for Investors and Startup Leaders. 

He’s announcing the first supporters tonight. Foundry is supporting it as a firm, and I’m supporting it personally along with my partner Jaclyn Hester.

If you are interested in signing Founder Mental Health Pledge for Investors and Startup Leaders, please email Naveed at naveed@pioneermind.com 

The pledge follows:

We make a commitment to take an active role in encouraging mental healthcare for founders and the greater startup community.

We pledge to encourage the founders we partner with to invest in their personal mental health and build a workplace culture that promotes mental health. 

Ensuring the mental health of founders and their teams is crucial and leads to the highest probability of startup success. We pledge to be supportive of founders treating the direct cost of caring for their mental health as a legitimate, worthwhile, and encouraged business expense – including therapy, coaching, group support, and app-based solutions. Founders should look at their mental health as a business priority.

Since Matt Levine is so effectively covering anything interesting in the world of the Twitter deal (and all kinds of bizarre, random, and complicated crypto, fraud, debt, and other financial stuff), I think I’ll stick with book reviews for the time being.

Andy Dunn, who I only know indirectly, wrote an important book titled Burn Rate: Launching a Startup and Losing My Mind. While it covers the story of Andy’s company, Bonobos, it’s really about mental health and entrepreneurship.

While there might be other entrepreneur autobiographies like Burn Rate, I can’t think of any. The closest is Tracy Kidder’s awesome book titled A Truck Full of Money about Paul English, an entrepreneur I do happen to know.

Tracy’s book is a mix of Paul’s entrepreneurial story combined with his experience being bipolar. Andy’s book is his entrepreneurial story combined with his experience of being bipolar. Both are remarkably brave books. Andy’s autobiography is particularly powerful since he is extremely detailed about several of the manic experiences that he had while running Bonobos.

While I don’t know Andy, I know several of his investors. His description of how they handled the situation of discovering Andy’s mental health diagnosis made me proud to know them. Andy decided to proactively hold a board meeting to describe what had happened that resulted in him ending up in the hospital and jail. One of his board members, Joel Peterson (who I don’t know), is remarkable.

“When I got out of the hospital, I walked straight into handcuffs. The City of New York charged me with misdemeanor assault and felony assault of a senior citizen.”

“Has there been a diagnosis?” Joel Peterson asked.

“The diagnosis is bipolar disorder type I. I was originally diagnosed when I was twenty, and I’ve been in denial about it for sixteen years.” A brief silence.

“I know a few folks who have dealt with what you’re dealing with, Andy,” Joel said calmly, holding true to his role as my professional father figure, “including more than a couple of entrepreneurs. It’s entirely manageable. I have full faith in you to take care of yourself, and I have full confidence in you as our CEO.”

Andy covers the rest of the board meeting discussion, including questions from board members about whether he was getting appropriate treatment, his legal situation, and the game plan for addressing any publicity around the situation.

A while ago, I was at a dinner with a bunch of VCs and entrepreneurs, including several very famous ones. One of the entrepreneurs stated clearly that if he ever talked openly about his struggle with depression, his board would immediately fire him. Fortunately, this was not the response of Andy’s board, as they took in the situation, asked questions about it, and made rational and deliberate decisions about what to do going forward. It’s worth noting that Andy was still the CEO of Bonobos when Walmart acquired it several years later.

I’m hopeful that Andy’s book will continue to help destigmatize mental health in entrepreneurship. Thanks, Andy, for being willing to write such an intimate story about your experience.

David Cohen and I have co-hosted the Give First podcast for 71 episodes. I think our host ratio is 80/20 David/Brad, and he’s covered everything in 2021 because I was burned out on all things public-facing and needed a break.

He figured a good way to get me back in the mix would be to interview me about entrepreneurship and mental health, so that’s what Episode 71 is about.

Listen & subscribe to the Give First podcast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and more.

One of my mantras for v54 is “Simply Begin Again.”

As I get closer to v55 (58 days from now), I’ve been thinking about it more. During my morning meditation, I repeated it for a stretch and then did the same for about a mile on my run this morning.

Garth gets so many things correct.

I made a big shift earlier this summer after I finished up some of the work I was doing with the State of Colorado around Covid, specifically around the Innovation Response Team. A lot of that energy shifted to new work around racial equity and the release of my new book with Ian Hathaway The Startup Community Way. At the same time, my Foundry Group workload intensified as companies shifted from “survive Covid” to “grow like crazy because of tailwinds from Covid and adjustments made during Q2.”

When I reflect on where we are in October, 2020, I’m amazed. There is a spectrum that has awesome at one end and awful at the other. I’m engaged on both ends and spent relatively little time in between them. The inequities that exist on so many dimensions of our existence are extremely visible to me right now.

My gear shift around each day has been profound. I’ve adopted a set of new habits for the beginning and end of the day. I start each day with 30 minutes of meditation (I’m on a year and a half streak), then have 15+ minutes of coffee with Amy, and then go running three or four days a week. It’s a full reset every morning, which has had a profound impact on my attitude to everything that then follows.

Next, Amy and I try to have a 30 minute lunch every day. We probably miss a day a week, but right after I hit post, I’m going to go have lunch with her. We’ve never done this during the week before and I hope to do this with her every day for the rest of my life.

At the end of the day, which ranges from 5pm to 8pm, I’m done. I no longer try to get through all my email. I no longer do one last check before I go to bed. I just stop for the day.

And then I simply begin again the next day.

Daniel Jackson created a magnificent book. It’s a combination of three things: 1) Extraordinary personal stories about 2) The struggle with mental health, anxiety, and depression while 3) at MIT.

MIT is a foundational part of my life. I spent seven years there. I got into graduate school in my fourth year and got into a Ph.D. program in my fifth year. I also started three companies while I was there – the first failed after my sophomore year, the second failed after my junior year, but the third turned into Feld Technologies, which was my first successful company.

I vividly remember my first major depressive episode. It was 1990. My first marriage had fallen apart. My company was doing fine, but I was bored with the work. I knew my Ph.D. journey was doomed, but I hadn’t accepted it yet.

While I had theoretically experienced failure, none had felt very personal up to this point. When I flashback to MIT undergraduate failure, it was dropping out of courses like 18.701, which I had no business taking when I did. Or it was getting a 20 on my first 8.01 test, only to find out a few days later that class average was a 32.

But the failures in 1990 were real and personal. I had a fantasy about my first marriage, which was also my first adult relationship (which had started in high school.) My divorce obliterated that fantasy. I had created a narrative about myself, if only in my head, that I was an overachiever at the youngest possible age – my company, my Ph.D., my marriage. When the second of those, the Ph.D. blew up, a deep depression ensued.

I was lucky – I had three people in my life who showed up for me in profound ways. The first was my Ph.D. advisor, Eric von Hippel, who protected me from the worst of what could have been the emotional fallout from MIT while providing me with the best he could as a paternalist-non-parent. The next was my now wife, Amy Batchelor, who knew I was depressed, called it out, and encouraged and supported me through understanding what was going on. Finally, my business partner, Dave Jilk, showed up as a partner every day. I don’t think he understood what I was going through or what to do, but what he did was what I needed.

That was almost 30 years ago.

Depression can be a fiendishly challenging thing that some us call the black dog. Today, when it shows up, I pet it on the head, talk nicely to it, and encourage it to find somewhere else to play. But, for a while in my 20s, it took up residence in my dark, opaque box, which spent a lot of time in a 24,000 cubic foot apartment at 15 Sleeper Street and eventually migrated to 127 Bay State Road. At some point, the black dog got bored of that apartment and went somewhere else for a while.

Reading this book made me wish this book existed then. I remember feeling incredibly alone at MIT, in Boston, and the world. Once I acknowledged to myself that I was depressed, I knew I wasn’t the only person in the world who was depressed. But I was so terrified about it and felt so much stigma and shame around my depression that I built a dark, opaque box around myself and only let a few people in during that time. If this book had existed, I would have looked at the photos, read the stories, and realized both that I wasn’t alone and that I eventually could be ok.

The Covid crisis has generated, or amplified, a number of separate crises. One of them is a mental health (or mental wellness) crisis. As humans, our entire way of living has been dramatically impacted by Covid. We are isolated from each other, many of us are afraid of being in public, and we are feeling enormous weight from economic, social, familial, and organization pressure.

One of our goals with Energize Colorado is to create a non-profit for the extended business community of “Coloradans helping Coloradans”. We decided to make providing Mental Health Resources one of the primary initiatives.

The Energize Colorado website has a comprehensive list of mental health resources that are available, but here are two new ones.

Free or low-cost therapy or mental health support with a licensed therapist: As of the other day, we currently have therapists in Colorado who have donated a total of up to 1,000 free hours. If you are a therapist and you are open to donating up to five hours of free therapy, please sign up on the Therapist Volunteer page.

3 Free months of Simple Habit: Sign up to access meditations, sleep content, and movement exercises, designed to help you care for your mind — all free for 3 months.

Also, Energize Colorado now has a mailing list so you can stay informed on upcoming webinars as well as information from Energize Colorado.

On Wednesday 6/3 at 11am Energize Colorado will be launching our Mental Wellness initiative.

While we already have a Mental Health Resource section up on the Energize Colorado, we are starting a weekly webinar series called Wellness Wednesdays.

One of our goals with this initiative is to destigmatize mental health and support those in need of engaging in service during the Covid crisis. I’ve been talking about mental health as the third part of the Covid crisis since the end of March when I wrote the post The Three Crises.

I didn’t anticipate structural racism being a fourth crisis. But here we are.

Yesterday, a friend suggested that a middle-aged white person trying to constructively engage around structural racism feels like walking across lava. It’s dangerous and there are lots of ways that you can say or do something that goes very wrong, even if that wasn’t intended.

I’m aware of that, so rather than tell anyone what the solution is, I’m just going to engage, in the same way I’ve engaged with other issues like gender discrimination. Listen, learn, and do things in support of other leaders who are already involved. For example, in the case of gender, I began my journey in 2005 by supporting and learning from leaders like Lucy Sanders.

This morning, I’ve reached out to several black entrepreneurial leaders I know, including Rodney Sampson. My question to him is not “what should I do” but rather “what are you doing that I can get involved in and support right now.”

So, now we’ve got four crisis. Health. Economic. Mental Health. Structural Racism.

If you are involved in one of these, know that you are not alone.

And, if the mental health crisis is on your mind right now, join us Wednesday for our discussion on our the You are Not Alone webinar.

Amy just walked in to our shared office (the “Library”) and said something about it being Tuesday.

It’s gloomy in Colorado today. For the past few years, the month of May has been more like Seattle weather than Colorado weather, so while spring is transitioning into summer, heavy clouds hang over us.

I seem to have two types of days right now.

Type 1 is what happens between Monday morning and Friday afternoon. Zoom call after Zoom call. Lots of exogenous stress and anxiety. By the end of each of these days, it’s hard to shrug it off as I’m absorbing so much from other people as I try to help them navigate through whatever they are working on or struggling with. There are momentary bright spots, smiles, and statements of appreciation, but they are fleeting as the 1 Minute To Next Call message appears at the top of the screen. At the end of the day, I try to run, but only feel like it a few days a week. Amy and I finish the day staring at the TV for an hour or two and then go to sleep.

Type 2 is the weekend. I stop doing meetings and email Friday night. I use Saturday to rest, recover, read, nap, and hang out with Amy. Sunday is similar, but I catch up on email, and read a bunch more.

I love to read but the only days I seem to have the energy to read are Type 2 days.

I’m going to finish out this week this way and then take a week off the grid and try to reset. As I expect we are in for a very long haul of stress and misery around the Covid crisis, it’s clear to me that Type 1 / Type 2 is not going to be a sustainable rhythm for me.

While I don’t know where I’ll land, I do know that the mental health crisis I talked about in my post The Three Crises is real. I see it and hear about it everywhere. I feel it. And I know how lucky and privileged I am, so I can only imagine how intense, pervasive, and challenging it is for others.

Over the past week, I’ve done a handful of podcasts to help entrepreneurs, leaders, and employees at startups to help think through how to respond in a crisis. I’ve requested that anything I do right now on this front is made public, so if anyone is interested, they can watch them.

The first, hosted by David Cohen, is with Scott Dorsey, Paul Berberian, and Berne Strom. Scott, Paul, Berne, and I are all “older entrepreneurs and investors” who have been through multiple crises dating back to 1987.

The next was a podcast I did with Greg Keller at JumpCloud on mental health in a crisis.

Last week I did two podcasts with Howard Lindzon on his series called Panic with Friends.

As a bonus, Fred Wilson also did a Panic with Friends with Howard which was excellent.

I’ve allocated a max one hour a day during the weekday for participating in creating content like this during the week as the Covid-19 crisis unfolds, but I’ll continue doing this as long as I feel like I have fresh things to contribute.

Yesterday, Josh Felser of Freestyle Ventures wrote a post titled For the Love of Founders and their mental health. In it, he discussed his own struggles with mental health as an entrepreneur.

“Like so many others I just sucked it up, grinded away and punted, hoping for relief down the road. That strategy of denial and repression worked until it didn’t. My founder stress and burnout couldn’t be contained despite my best efforts. In fact, my mental unhealthiness impacted my physical health, by causing debilitating sleep apnea, as diagnosed by UCSF and missed by Stanford (but that is another post). I sold my 2nd company, Crackle, and vowed to leave the high anxiety of being a founder for the relatively easy life of venture, not that it’s actually easy. I was lucky to have exited Crackle before my situation worsened and ultimately found the relief I desperately needed to feel whole again.“

More importantly, he talked about his fear of discussing it with his investors.

“Unsurprisingly, my investors, back then, never once inquired about my mental state and certainly didn’t offer any resources I could tap. In fact if I’d shared my actual state of mind, I would probably have been fired or at the very least encouraged ostensibly to take time off. Those were the times.“

Thankfully, this is changing, in part to leadership by firms like Freestyle. The partners, Josh, David Samuel, and Jenny Lefcourt have announced an initiative initially focused on their portfolio founders in an effort to break down the barriers to better mental health for all in our industry.

To begin, they are underwriting 100% of the cost for two programs – Meru Health and Hoffman Institute, for all of their founders.

• Meru Health is a three-month digital program for treating depression, anxiety, and burnout that leverages remote therapists/psychiatrists, CBT, meditation, and biofeedback.
• Hoffman Institute is a one-week intensive on-site program, leveraging therapy, meditation, experiential exercises and peer-to-peer community, designed to break the most formative negative patterns from our childhood.

I’m fortunate that I have a strong, long-term relationship with a psychologist who works with entrepreneurs. However, he, like many others in the field, is extremely busy so even though he is open to referrals from me, he is limited in who he can take on as a client. Part of the challenge here is the time delay that a referral takes, and Meru Health is an impressive approach to providing rapid response care in a specialized way with an economic model that can work in entrepreneurial contexts.

The Hoffman Institute was new to me, but after spending some time on the website, I went and signed up to attend one of the week-long retreats. While I feel like I’ve explored – in therapy – some of the things they talk about, I know that I’m still struggling with a bunch of this, especially as I shift into the next phase of my life.

As an LP in Freestyle, I’m extremely excited to see their leadership in this area. While they are not the first firm to announce an initiative like this – last year Felicis Ventures gifted Founders 1% Of Every Invested Dollar To Spend On Coaching And Mental Health – I’m hopeful that this is addition momentum in an area that needs a lot more attention, support, and help.

Josh, David, Jenny – thank you!

Recently, I read a well-written article in Fast Company by Jon Dishotsky titled We need to be more honest about what tech culture is doing to our mental health.

In it, he had a list of lessons he has learned over the years.

• Look out for your wake-up call
• Create routines that prioritize mental health
• Work in line with your body’s rhythm
• Make time for silence
• Find space to unplug
• Give your emotions credit
• Cultivate (and listen to) your inner circle

These mental health suggestions are all right on the money. I encourage you to go read the article if this is a topic that interests you.

This first appeared in the Boulder Community Health Foundation Summer 2019 Magazine in an article titled Taking On The Mental Health Stigma.

I started the second week of 2013 in Las Vegas at the Consumer Electronics Show. Within two hours of arriving, I was in my hotel room, the shade closed, the door locked, and in bed with a pillow over my head. I couldn’t deal with anything at all. Having been here before, I knew I was in a deep depression.

From all external perspectives, my life was going great. I was healthy, my business (Foundry Group) was successful, I had an excellent marriage to Amy Batchelor, was surrounded by numerous friends, and I got to live in Boulder, Colorado. But I was physiologically exhausted from 2012. I’d run an ultra-marathon in the spring that I never recovered from, had a near-death bike accident, and squeezed a marathon in October when I had no business running one. I was on the road 75% of the time, working constantly, dealing with the explosive growth of several of our investments while struggling through the challenges at others while writing two books. Ending up with a kidney stone in November that required surgery and a month of rest should have been the warning I needed to slow it all down and take care of myself.

I’m fortunate that my wife, business partners, family, and friends are helpful to me when I’m depressed. I’m in a privileged position of having the financial resources to do whatever I need to do. I have a job that provides me a lot of flexibility. And I’m no longer afraid of being depressed or ashamed of being public about my struggles with depression and anxiety.

I had my first major depressive episode in my mid-20s. While I probably had been depressed prior to that, I never really processed it as depression. I was one of those kids who was successful at almost everything I tried, loved by my parents, and comfortable growing up. One day I found myself in the middle of a divorce, being kicked out of a Ph.D. program, and bored of my work at my first company, even though it was successful. I was lucky to have a Ph.D. advisor who was able to recommend a psychiatrist to me. I was quickly diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) and again lucky to have a psychiatrist who was able to combine CBT and medication to help me overcome OCD while providing a safe space for me to explore my underlying anxiety disorder and the root causes of it.

At the time, I was incredibly ashamed of everything around my depression. I was ashamed that I was depressed. I hated that I took medicine. I was terrified that someone would find out that I was going to a psychiatrist. I was afraid to tell anyone I worked with, other than my business partner, that I was depressed. I thought CEOs and leaders had to be strong and show no weakness.

Again, I was lucky. My business partner Dave was supportive, even when he didn’t really know what to do. My new girlfriend (now my wife) Amy didn’t view me like a broken toy she needed to fix but rather acknowledged that I was going through a difficult time as we began our relationship. I had several friends and family members who showed up for me.

During my 2013 depressive episode, I blogged openly about my struggles and what I did. Since I was no longer ashamed of being depressed, I thought it might be helpful to talk about things. I had a large audience of readers and quickly ended up interviewed by a number of national business publications, including Inc. and Fortune. Several high-profile entrepreneurs had recently committed suicide and mental health was starting to be talked about in entrepreneurial circles, so I became a visible example of a successful entrepreneur who struggled with depression but was willing to discuss it.

The combination of these experiences and my liberation from my shame surrounding depression helped me realize how pernicious the stigma around depression is in our society. I ended up talking with hundreds of entrepreneurs about their own experience with mental health issues, including anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder, and mania. In many cases, I was the first person, including family members, that they had ever discussed their struggles with.

I decided that part of my mission on this planet would be to help destigmatize the issues surrounding mental health. I won’t be done with this until we have achieved parity between prioritizing mental and physical health. Instead of being a stigmatized health issue, we need to talk about and treat mental health as we would any other physical health challenge. Cancer used to be a death sentence; now many cancers are treatable. Smallpox and polio were deeply misunderstood and mistreated; now they are largely eradicated. Diabetes, once a mysterious and crippling disease, is well understood and easily treated in most cases. Destigmatizing mental health issues and removing the barriers to care are critical to addressing and treating mental health diseases.

I’m incredibly moved by the community’s support of the Bolder Community Health initiative to expand critical mental health services. When Amy and I first heard about the effort to raise money for what is now the Della Cava Family Medical Pavilion, we immediately committed to getting involved. We are honored to be able to provide funding in support of the medical pavilion and for the establishment of the Anchor Point Mental Health Endowment and I’m thankful that my partners at Foundry Group have also provided a significant gift through our Pledge1% Fund.

Most importantly, I’m proud of everyone in our community who has supported this initiative, both functionally and financially. We are a special community at the forefront of many things in our society. Providing excellent care for people suffering and taking action to destigmatize mental health issues are important steps that we are pursuing in Boulder. Thank you to everyone who is helping us find our voice around this issue, elevate the conversation, and help destigmatize mental health.

I’ve been open about my journey with depression and the importance of addressing and destigmatizing issues around mental health. So I was excited that one of our Techstars programs – the MetLife Digital Accelerator powered by Techstars – is looking closely at mental health startups for their 2019 class. If you’re a founder innovating in the mental health market, I encourage you to apply for this program.

The MetLife Digital Accelerator powered by Techstars is focused on insurtech startups. MetLife and Techstars managing director Mee-Jung Jang are defining insurtech broadly, and mental health is a key area of focus. They are looking at all types of mental health startups in their search including ones helping individuals improve their everyday mental fitness, using data to better assess and predict serious mental health conditions, and providing easier access to care at the moment of need.

Over half of all humans will experience a major mental health challenge in their lifetime. Yet, mental health still carries a stigma, and many people suffer silently including our coworkers, friends, and family. The startup journey is immensely difficult, so the quiet sufferers include many entrepreneurs. Mental health startups that take advantage of new technologies and data could have a huge positive impact by solving these problems.

The MetLife Digital Accelerator powered by Techstars recruits globally and is stage agnostic. Founders in this program have unique access to the resources of both Techstars and MetLife, a Fortune 50 company with over 100 million customers worldwide in nearly 50 countries and serving 90 of the Fortune 100 as their clients in the US.

If you’re a founder of a mental health startup, I encourage you to request office hours with managing director Mee-Jung Jang with this form and follow her on twitter to keep posted on her startup recruiting tour. Or, just apply now as applications are open until April 7th.

I’m excited to see which mental health companies get accepted into the MetLife Digital Accelerator powered by Techstars.

Aaron Edelheit recently came out with a great book titled The Hard Break: The Case for a 24/6 Lifestyle. 

He interviewed me as he was writing it so I show up a few times, along with a few friends that I sent his way. The subtitle is a good hint – instead of a 24/7 life (where you are always on, especially in a work context), Aaron suggests 24/6, where there is a full 24 hour “hard break” each week.

Long-time readers and friends will know that I generally take a digital sabbath for 24 hours starting Friday night and ending Saturday night (and often Sunday morning.) I’m off my phone, email, text, vox, and other digital channels. I read hard copy books or on my Kindle, but try to stay completely off the web. I’m not religious, nor am I religious about doing this, but I’m pretty consistent. And I have a good enforcer encourager in Amy, who I’d rather spend Friday night and Saturday with instead of my computer.

Aaron does a great job challenging the conventional entrepreneurial mythology around how you have to work all the time, burn the midnight oil, grind it out, and be comfortable with the idea that great entrepreneurs work all the time. Is burnout really a right of passage as an entrepreneur? Do you actually have to push yourself to the absolute physical and emotional limit to be successful?

I believe the answer to this is no, as does Aaron. He asserts that each of us needs time away from work and technology and makes a compelling case that time away from work can actually make us more successful and productive in the long term.

Aaron weaves his own personal story into the book, which, rather than reading like a memoir, supports the points he’s making and reinforces the stories and examples of others. His own journey is one, like many, of a series of key moments of personal and professional success and failure that generates his current viewpoint. In addition to being a provocative book, it’s a personal book.

Aaron, thanks for putting your energy into advocating the benefits of taking some downtime on a regular basis. If you are an entrepreneur, feeling exhausted by the pressure of always being on, or feeling external pressure to never take a break, I recommend you grab this book, curl up on the couch tomorrow, and turn off your phone.