Last night, a terrible tragedy shook the world. Robin Williams was found dead by suicide. It has come into light that he struggled with alcoholism and depression, and he finally gave up the struggle.
I was deeply saddened by the news, as I've always been a fan of Robin Williams. He played some of, what I consider to be, the most important roles in any Hollywood movie. He played Peter Pan in Hook, a character struggling deeply with adult responsibility, parenthood, and loss of childhood. Peter was a character any parent can relate to, and therefore could remind parent of what is most important in life. Life is a great adventure. He played a mental health professional in Good Will Hunting. His character wasn't just speaking to Matt Damon's, he was speaking to everyone watching the film. "It's not your fault." Robin played a high school teacher in Dead Poet's Society, inspiring students in the film and watching the movie to truly live for something. He also played a doctor in Awakenings, based on a true story and actual people, who made a tremendous discovery about music and reflexes healing patients who were "stuck" and could no longer use their bodies. This list, clearly, is not comprehensive.
How could an actor who regularly chose roles which inspired the audience to appreciate life and desire to really live get caught up in a depression that caused him to take his own life? Doesn't he value life?
This caused me to spend time reflecting on my own situation. About this time last year, I was beginning my descent into the worst episode of my life. I laid in bed all day, surrendering to pain, but also giving up the fight to live a normal life. Fatigue had completely taken over. I wasn't capable of doing anything. My internal medicine doctor tried to send me to a psychologist, believing my pain was just a manifestation of mental health issues. I knew better - I carefully observed my brain slowly shutting down the worse the condition of my body became. I also experienced the effects of Cymbalta deadening my thoughts, making me believe that death would be better than going on living through the "nothingness" each day. I longed for an end to the suppression of my mind and body. I either wanted my ability to live back, or I wanted to be dead. Death felt like the easier route. I, a Roman Catholic woman with a deep faith in God and a love for His creation, seriously considered suicide. Thankfully, I didn't have the mental or physical energy to bother with any sort of attempt.
I never saw the psychologist. I am an advocate of mental health care, as I saw first hand how wonderful therapy is when I worked at a mental health clinic as the secretary. I wasn't against going to the psychologist because I didn't believe psychology heals, I was against going because I knew that psychological healing takes work. Work takes energy. I had no energy, and I didn't want to waste my money on a therapy I couldn't actively participate in.
My story eventually drops me off in the office of an out-of-state naturopatic doctor. He asked me one of the most important questions I've ever been asked in regards to my mental health: "If I told you that I had a magic pill that would make you better upon taking it, how would you react?" My eyes lit up, and I grew excited. He said, "You're not depressed. You're sad. A depressed person wouldn't care about getting better. You do care, and you're just sad because you're suffering." He was right. I was never depressed after all. I sure felt depressed, but the mental health condition of actual depression was not my enemy. This gave me much needed hope. I wasn't crazy, I was just compromised with terrible health! The sadness, however, was still a very powerful force that caused me to consider suicide. If depression is any worse than what I was feeling, it's a wonder that depressed people survive.
I can't speak about Robin's condition, as I know very little about his personal life. I can, however, understand and sympathize with the desire to escape life, even with a strong conviction about the value of life. When the brain is compromised, the whole person is affected. In my case, my whole body, including my brain, was compromised. I could no longer think clearly, feel emotions, or have the energy to care. In Robin's case, if he suffered true depression, he wouldn't have been able to make good choices either. It doesn't matter how much he valued life if his brain wasn't capable of functioning properly. A lack of sanity makes people do things that they would not do when sane.
While there are many schools of thought on how to combat depression, whether through pills, nutrition, therapy, or other alternative methods, the most important part of the process is recognizing depression. A depressed person will not take care of him or herself. A depressed person is a very big threat to him or herself, and should not be left alone. A depressed person will fight getting help. Get that person help. Don't assume that person will "get over it."
There is always hope.
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