On the
off chance that you've been living under a rock, I hate to be the one to tell
you that Robin Williams has passed away.
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| Robin in the beautiful afterlife in What Dreams May Come. |
I know,
I know. It’s hard to believe, but Mr. Williams – or Genie, as he will forever
be known in my perpetual-90s-child mind – has left a plump old
Englishwoman-shaped hole in the lives of comedy and film lovers everywhere when
he died Monday. The public outpouring of support for his family and friends
has been inspiring, but that’s not what I want to talk about.
I want
to discuss the politicization which will inevitably take place surrounding his
death – a phenomenon which good ol’ Rob himself discussed during press for his
film World’s Greatest Dad
- and the ignorant but mostly misguided comments I’ve been seeing on Facebook
and Twitter regarding his suicide.
For the
most part, people are being respectful of this talented and diverse performer.
However, to put a new spin on the old adage “Boys will be boys”, it seems that
“Ignorant jerks will be ignorant jerks and continue to spout misinformed
rubbish even though they have little understanding of mental health issues or
empathy for people suffering from Depression”.
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| DANGER: Intense discussion of mental health ahead. |
Phew,
that was a mouthful. Unfortunately it is nothing compared to the earful
(eyeful?) of ridiculous comments I’ve seen about suicide being “selfish” and
“cowardly”, and that Robin should have set “a better example” for other people
struggling with “personal demons”. Apparently “if only he knew how much people
loved him” this “senseless” thing never would have happened.
But as
Slate writer Molly Pohlig points out, “I bet Robin Williams knew he was loved.
Unfortunately, love doesn’t cure mental illness.” I completely agree with Molly that anyone who thinks this was an issue of
failing to count your blessings and look on the bright side of life needs a
serious awakening.
Dean
Burnett tackled this discussion point admirably when he pointed out that: “Dismissing
the concerns of a genuine depression sufferer on the grounds that you’ve been
miserable and got over it is like dismissing the issues faced by someone who’s
had to have their arm amputated because you once had a paper cut and it didn’t
bother you.”
 |
| Or in Williams' case, don't compare yourself to a burn victim just because you survived lighting your prosthetic breasts on fire. (From Mrs. Doubtfire.) |
Depression
is not simply something that goes away when you ask yourself “Am I happy?” and
then “do something positive about it”, as one Twitter user suggested.
Depression is a filthy, sneaking rat that hides beneath the floorboards when
the sun is out but squeaks and taunts you all night until you question your sanity
and lose touch with the reality of existence. Visitors can assure you there are
no vermin in the house, but Depression is a persistent rodent that refuses to
vacate its nest.
For someone suffering from Depression (notice my use of a
capital D to refer to the mental health issue versus lower case depression
which many people use interchangeably to refer to gloomy-sky/sad feelings),
reassurance doesn’t go far when you’ve lost hope, control, and the will to
continue existing when things have just become Way. Too. Fucking. Hard.
As
Russell Brand pointed out: “Robin Williams could have tapped anyone in
the western world on the shoulder and told them he felt down and they would
have told him not to worry, that he was great, that they loved him. He must have
known that. He must have known his wife and kids loved him, that his mates all
thought he was great, that millions of strangers the world over held him in
their hearts, a hilarious stranger that we could rely on to anarchically
interrupt, the all-encompassing sadness of the world.” Knowing you are loved and valued, however, cannot overcome the illogical nature
of Depression (British comedian Stephen Fry knows this all too well),
and too many people misunderstand the illness as being something that can be
overcome with willpower and a little good cheer.
 |
| (From Patch Adams.) |
For those of you who have been following this blog for
some time, you’ll know that I lost one of my closest friends to suicide in
February. When she passed away, I had countless discussions with mutual
friends, family, and in my own head about why she chose to end her life,
whether there was anything I could have done to help her, and if she knew how
much we loved her. A common reaction was “How could she have thought that was the
right decision?” and “What was she thinking?” Though the language processing
area of my brain was overwhelmed by other thoughts at the time, I now think I
have the answer.
She wasn’t thinking in the rational way that people who
are not under emotional duress think. There was no pre-meditation that such a
final act was selfish or selfless, that she was causing a lifetime of pain or
sparing people the agony of her tortured presence.
There was only that one second when the desire to go on
dissipated and things seemed clear: all that had to be done to end the
exhaustion of fighting for fleeting moments of peace and happiness – that
torture of attempting to go on living after every ounce of your strength has
been spent – was to stop living.
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| As the voice of the genie, Robin describes Depression (from Aladdin). |
Anyone who has dealt with Depression understands this
vividly, yet it can be so damn difficult to explain to people who are horrified
by the very mention of mental illness or – quick, toss some salt over your
shoulder – suicide. It’s a horrifying thought until your life begins to slowly
crumble at your feet. But, that’s Depression for you.
It’s true that death and loss change everything. They
alter your day-to-day life, force you to evaluate your relationships, and
complicate circumstances beyond belief. But dealing with death by suicide
changes you entirely.
It won’t be easy for Robin Williams’ family, friends,
coworkers, and many admirers to move on now that the doors to previously
unexplored mental channels have been thrust open. But maybe the passing of such
a well-loved figure will be the impetus we need to start talking about mental
health in a productive way rather than continuing to fear what some of us do
not understand.
