So I guess this is less about Robin Williams and more about
the big S. I'll try to make it relatively brief, but you may have gleaned from my handful of other posts so far that I'm not great at brevity.
Robin Williams himself was a brilliant comedian and actor who
touched the lives of multitudes through his universal ability to make people
laugh and feel good. I don’t want to downplay his tragedy by shifting the
focus, and my heart goes out to his family, friends, and everyone who is
saddened by his unfortunate end.
I have heard a lot floating around the internet about his
death. A lot focused on the tragedy, how much he will be missed, and
remembering the highs of his career, some even delving into his personal
struggle throughout the years. However, there are some sour attitudes out there
toward suicide and some amount of misunderstanding of the nature of the beast.
Some things I read called him “selfish,” a “coward.” This is
what I want to address on this blog, through the bias of my own experience,
which I won’t focus on—but suffice it to say this has hit close to home for me.
Suicide is, if you look at it from the surface, selfish. It
seems like the person has not even considered family and friends and is taking
something away from them. In a way, that is true. BUT. That surface is
deceptive; from the surface you can’t see the depth of the Marianas Trench.
And selfish is not the way someone struggling with depression or bipolar
disorder, or any other pain and illness, feels about it. It’s hard to see out of
the blinders that descend upon you in the darkest times. Can you see in the
dark? Doubt it. That’s what it feels like emotionally. There is nothing but
pain. And often, you see yourself as a burden to the people around you; you
perceive the ending of your life to free them from you and the baggage you drag
with you. You feel like you’re dragging everyone down. There aren’t many
feelings worse than feeling like you let not only yourself down, but everyone
around you. Usually that’s a deranged mirage. But then, that’s the hallmark of
mental illness, isn’t it?
And in regards to Robin Williams, or anyone else for that
matter, being cowardly for committing
suicide… I can’t imagine anything to be farther from the truth. I understand that perspective, I get it--someone who commits suicide is running from their problems and would rather die than face reality. But like my argument on selfishness, I feel the reality goes far deeper than what you see on the surface. Could you,
right now, look death in the face and summon him forward, ready to face the unknown/whatever
you believe awaits you after? Maybe some of you, but I would think that most would
rather cross that bridge when it is thrust in front of us, if at all. I hazard
to say that suicide is fearless, not cowardly. You want to control your
destiny, you want to end everything as you know it. That is not the mark of a
coward.
I’m not saying suicide is the answer, nor am I trying to
glorify the act. Far from it. A good support system, therapy, medication,
exercise—these are all part of a short and incomplete list of solutions that
can help a person, any one or all of them. Sometimes it’s not enough, though,
and those times test the very fiber of a person’s being. If one makes it
through, they make it through a better, stronger person. If one doesn’t, I
lament the terror and grief that met them every morning, every sleepless night,
every painful, bleak moment that lead them to lose sight of the light at the
end of that long, dark tunnel. I mourn for them for having given up the battle and
for their loved ones.
I’m sorry it came to that, Robin Williams. May you rest in
peace.
If you or someone you know is struggling, there are many
good resources out there. And for every person who would berate you for your
condition, there are just as many people out there who understand where you are
coming from, and even if they have not experienced it themselves, have
compassion and would love to help you. Don’t give up.
With love and empathy,
Jax
