Reflections on Robin Williams' Death

Yesterday news reports and social media were overwhelmed with the information that Robin Williams had died in an apparent suicide. I'm fully aware that I'm not alone in deeply feeling his loss. He was a beautifully creative, quick-witted, and hilarious man whose life changed people. Some of the movies he was in altered my life, stirred up emotions, and had me laughing until my stomach hurt. Some of the roles I'll never forget were from The Dead Poet's Society, Mrs. Doubtfire, Aladdin, Good Will Hunting, Hook, The Birdcage, Good Morning Vietnam, Jumanji, and What Dreams May Come.

Robin Williams is someone Dan and I both liked at the beginning of our relationship; someone we talked about and shared movie experiences with. We joked about him being so fuzzy that he could have been the missing link.

What has me even more reflective this morning is knowing that he suffered from Depression. I can painfully relate, having been through 5-6 Major Depressive Episodes throughout my life. Each time has been devastating and has brought me to a core of pain and feelings of worthlessness. I have become better at recognizing the symptoms at the beginning of an episode, and have gratefully created mechanisms of coping. But every time, the process is completely draining and it takes every ounce of my energy to continue doing everyday things - like preparing food, waking up, going to work...

This whole situation with Robin Williams makes me think though. We never truly know the depths and struggles going on with other people. When someone says to me, "You're always so happy!" it makes me a little sad because I figure that means we don't know each other well. The people who know me are the friends that I can be honest with when my mood isn't "fit for company." They're the ones I can still be around anyway. A quote I appreciate that seems especially appropriate right now is, "Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind always." (Ian Maclaren)

I worry though. When I hear about suicides from people who also suffer from Depression, it scares me. All I can do is hope that during any future episodes, I'll be able to utilize the care of people who love me and embrace the coping mechanisms I've learned over the years.

In the meantime, I say to Robin: May your soul be at rest. You will be missed. And, as the Academy posted last night, "Genie, you're free."