At the age of 14 he was man-sized – playing in the ruck and changing full forward for Penleigh and Essendon Grammar. "I was an overdeveloped Eastern European kid," he says with a hint of a grin.

But he was more than just a big body – a man-child who would lose his edge when his teammates physically matured. He had real talent (his father Joe played as a Socceroo) and from early on was considered a budding AFL star.

Perhaps that is why no-one seemed to worry too much that he was a handful at school – a self described "bit of a lad."

He was blond, well built, could win a game off his own boot, was Victorian Under 16 captain and looked like making a living at the game he loved. Yet by 15 he started to become anxious over little things, which he masked by becoming even more macho.

"I reacted with anger against teachers or any authority figures. I would get into fights, which was pretty easy for me at my size."

Many put it down to teenage hormones kicking in but it was more than that. He was suffering a form of depression that went undiagnosed through his career at three AFL clubs and could have cost him his life.

Now ten years after his last AFL game he is using his own dark experiences to help others on the same path with a simple message: "you are not alone".

When he was delisted from his final club after the 2005 season he went on a bender, filled with parties, booze and pills. It was like an end of year footy trip except for Lance it lasted five years.

It was only when a footy injury threatened to cost him his leg he finally confronted the truth and began a long journey back to find some inner peace.

But that was in the future. Back in 1997 he was taken in the first round of the national draft as a 17-year-old by reigning premiers Adelaide. On draft day he was described as having "explosive power and great agility".

And yet the promising junior was not able to make the jump to consistent senior, leaving him to battle his silent enemy – depression.

"I was a young boy in an adult world," says Lance, who partied hard, often arriving home around 6am. He was not the first kid at a footy club to fail to immediately embrace the discipline of professional sport and tried to cheat the system.

After two years and four games at the top level he refused a new contract with Adelaide, asked to be traded to Victoria and was selected by Hawthorn. After all, he was still young and talented with plenty of time to grab a second chance.

Slowly injuries and self doubts invaded his mental health. Instead of being happier in his home town he became worse. He drank and carefully hid his fragility behind an image of a self confident, carefree Jock always up for a good time.

One of his closest teammates at Hawthorn was Daniel Harford who says Picioane was "cheeky – the life of the party who was the first on the dance floor and the last to leave".

"He appeared to be gregarious and confident but under the facade you sensed a vulnerability. At times I was concerned about his future after football."

He says Picioane wanted to be accepted for his playing talents but appeared plagued by self doubt.

His Hawthorn coach, Peter Schwab, says, "I liked Lance, he was a good kid."

Picioane did not exhibit signs of chronic anxiety or depression during those playing days.

Yet on a way to a game he would become so anxious he would stop to vomit, fall into unexplained coughing fits and "just freak out" before pulling himself together to arrive at the rooms as though nothing was wrong.

Hawthorn had the respected Simon Lloyd as club psychologist but Picioane couldn't confide.

"You can't get help if you don't seek it. It is a big blokey world and you want to appear invincible. You don't want to dent your reputation and be treated differently."

When he did approach Lloyd it was not to talk of his mental health battles but to announce he wanted to quit football.

"I would do that about once a year when I was injured or playing in the seconds. I just wanted to run away from it all and be normal."

Each time he was persuaded not to give up and reminded how lucky he was to pursue his dreams. But the dream had turned into a nightmare that he couldn't or wouldn't explain.

"Through the anxiety I had no clear thoughts and didn't think about what I did well, just on what would happen if I screwed up."

And screw up he did – royally. Fed up after a 2004 night game where he only had two minutes playing time he went on an all night bender with a team mate Danny Jacobs.

Jacobs was caught drink driving and both players were punished for the attempted cover up. From that moment on he was on borrowed time.

A few weeks later he watched as his teammate Nathan Thompson bravely went public with his long term battle with clinical depression.

"In some ways it made it worse. I thought it should have been me up there but I saw all the cameras and the attention and wanted to push it even further away."

Sacked at the end of the year he was picked up by North but now admits, "I had lost any love for footy and I didn't want to be there."

But he had no-where else to go. Footy defined him since he was a kid and without it he felt he was nothing. He was a drowning man clutching an anchor.

He had not studied and had not prepared for life after professional sport. He hated the game but was drawn to the spotlight like a moth to a car grill.

"You are addicted to the light and when you lose it you lose your identity."

Delisted by North he told the Sunday Age, "I've just been living the life of leisure for once in my life and enjoying it." It was a lie. Some days he couldn't get out of bed. "In the deep, dark world of depression you try to keep running away."

The suicidal thoughts he battled during his footballing days became more frequent. "They were as common as breakfast."

Without the structure of an AFL club his escape became drugs and grog. "If you numb yourself enough then you can't feel anything."

He thought of becoming a fireman and flirted with the idea of owning a fashion shop. Eventually he became a personal trainer and developed a strong client list until a football injury left him immobilised.

He finally confided to a doctor from one of his old clubs of his mental health issues and was prescribed medication - only to become addicted. Once weaned off the pills he was determined to take it one step at a time, although that option was nearly taken from him.

In 2011 a synthetic knee ligament draft went bad and when a blood infection took hold doctors were worried he could lose his left leg.

When he recovered sufficiently he was told weight bearing exercise was out of the question. But whether it was teachers, coaches or doctors, Lance was never that big on listening.

Not only did he recover, he returned to football and learned to love the game again playing for Kerang - a club now trying to win its fourth premiership in a row.

"Now when I retire football will be a positive thing to me."

He has finally worked out that winning or losing doesn't define him as a person. "A job doesn't make you the person that you are."

Picioane has another passion. Helping young people with the battles that nearly overwhelmed him.

With limited formal training but 20 years of personal experience he has set up Love Me Love You – a charity designed to help young people navigate the challenges of mental health.

This year alone the group has presented to 4000 young people through schools, football clubs and professional organisations. Picioane's team include people with first hand experience on drug and alcohol abuse, eating disorders and depression.

They provide links to experts and pathways for people with problems to find help. "Sufferers think they are alone but they are not. The longer you let it go the harder it can become."

"I don't want people to go through what I did."

To raise awareness Picioane heads a March with Me event to highlight the step by step approach. In 2014 he walked 900 kilometres from Sydney to Melbourne and this year it was 195 kilometres around the bay. In October there will be a bike ride from Warrnambool to Melbourne.

Not bad for a bloke who could have lost a leg.

Married with the birth of his first child just weeks away, Picioane has learnt to deal with his demons. "I have a great life now."

We meet in a crowded coffee shop and he tells his story without caring if it is overheard for he has nothing to hide. He now believes the enemy of dark depression is public light.

As part of Mental Health Week, Love Me Love You will hold a fund raising breakfast with Picioane, boxing champion Sam Soliman and Olympic cyclist Shane Kelly at the MCG on October 7.

lovemeloveyou.org.au