I was going to post a rambling piece of nothing really. A bit about Snow, maybe a comment on the weather, the start of the football season, the women's Rugby World Cup, perhaps...nothing of any real importance
But this morning I woke to the news that Robin Williams had committed suicide.
Usually when the news sites report that a celebrity of some sort has died my reaction is something along the lines of "how sad" if it's somebody well into their 80s or 90s I might add "well they had a good innings", and then I move on. Unless I knew them personally or they were in some way significant in my life, important to me, or something they did or said made a difference to me, that's all. As a rule I hate the over-the-top wailing and weeping that some people love to indulge in when even the most minor of celebrities dies.
This morning was different. I was truly upset. Shocked and saddened. Because somehow Robin Williams was different.Not just to me, but to a great many people. I loved his stand-up, loved him in
Good Morning, Vietnam, and loved him in
Dead Poets Society. He was funny, quick, incredibly intelligent, and far more sensitive than was safe. And it's sad to think that all the time he was giving life to some amazing characters he was himself dying inside.
Depression is a dreadful thing. It's a shame that the word has become so devalued. Because we speak of "feeling depressed" when we mean we're having a slightly less than perfect day, or of something being depressing when we mean it makes us slightly disillusioned, people think that depression is simply feeling a bit down. And that you should be able to pull yourself out of it. Depression is not that easy. It's a pain that never stops. Real depression is a deep, black pit with no way out. A darkness that spreads within you leaving you hollow in ways that nothing can feel. It's knowing - not just thinking - but
knowing with absolute certainty that you are so worthless that everyone you love will truly be better off without you.
And you put on a mask. Of strength, of humour, all who know you think of you as outgoing, happy, they like you. And you know that they think those things because of the mask, and that if they really knew you - the real you - they would see how worthless you are.
Robin Williams was loved - by his family, his friends, his fans. He was richly talented, successful - and he still felt that darkness, still dying inside.
While you're mourning Robin, give a thought to the people around you - the "class clown", the one who always makes you laugh, the one with the sarcastic sense of humour... maybe they're dying inside too...
Treat those you meet with kindness - you don't know what demons they carry.
Ze
