Excerpt: 'Breaking Free'

April 14, 2008 — -- Football Hall of Famer Herschel Walker is known nationally for his dominance on the gridiron, but the 1982 Heisman Trophy winner secretly battled inner demons throughout his life.

In his new book, "Breaking Free: My Life with Dissociative Identity Disorder," Walker makes a stunning revelation and discusses his multiple personality disorder. Walker also talks about how he approached his mental health.

Read an excerpt of Walker's book below.

The day had started like most others in my life. I rose well before my wife, Cindy, and son, Christian, were awake. I slipped quietly down the stairs of our suburban Dallas home and stepped into what I consider in some ways to be my safe haven—my workout and exercise area. I got down on the floor and began my usual routine—2,500 sit-ups and 1,500 push-ups. I'd been following that same pattern for more than twenty-eight years, 365 days a year come rain or shine, feast or famine, on the road or at home. Only today, in the process of writing this, did I calculate what that all meant: 7,500 sit-ups a week; 90,000 per year; 25.480 million since it all began back in Wrightsville, Georgia, as a chunky sixth grader. By my calculations, it will take me a little more than twelve and a half more years to reach 37 million—the number of miles the Earth is from Jupiter. My allusion to another planet is deliberate; for a lot of my life, I've felt like an alien, and tried to put a great distance between other people and me.

After I finished my workout, I took a quick shower and then I sat and read the newspapers with the television turned to CNN, to catch up on the world's events, just as I did nearly every morning. That routine comforted me; my playing days were over in one sense but in many others they never ended. I folded up the papers and put them in the recycling bin. I brushed my teeth and checked on Christian before going to my home office, where I spent the rest of the morning. Cindy came in at one point to let me know that she was going out with some friends for lunch, and she'd be taking Christian with her. I kissed them both good-bye and returned to my work.

A few hours later, I was still seated at my desk, reviewing some paperwork I'd taken home regarding a potential deal I was hoping to make. I was determined to make Renaissance Man Food Services and Herschel's Famous 34 major players in a very tough industry. Since I'd stopped playing football three years before in 1998, I'd been focusing much of my competitive energy on making my many business interests flourish. Things were going well. I really didn't need to work, money was not an issue for me, but I'd been relentlessly restless for the last twenty-five years of my life, and I wasn't about to slow down.

I'd sat there checking and rechecking some numbers, when I glanced at the calendar on my desk. The date was February 24, 2001. In exactly seven days, I was going to turn thirty-nine years old. Hard to believe that time had passed so quickly. I'd enjoyed a stellar college career, won the Heisman Trophy, finished up my professional days as the number two player in all-purpose yardage (number one if you considered, which the NFL didn't, my yards earned in the USFL), represented my country in the 1992 Winter Olympics in Albertville, France, been paid millions of dollars for playing a game, and earned millions more from endorsement deals. I'd been able to help family and friends, met with presidents and business leaders, was married to the only woman I'd ever loved, had a son I adored. Considering all that, what was about to happen made little sense to me then, and only now can I understand my actions at all.