Depression isn’t a joke, even for Robin Williams
People die every day. Be it from hunger, war, disease or drugs, people die every day and it’s become commonplace not to feel anything for them.
Celebrities die too, and for the most part, I don’t really care much more than for anyone else who loses their life. But Robin Williams died yesterday and it’s heartbreaking,
He was hilarious and a social commentator who said it like it is. He was never afraid of media backlash, because he told the truth.
I remember a quote from somewhere I can’t recall: “Artists use lies to tell the truth, while the governments use lies to cover up the truth.”
A true artist was Williams, who said what the world was thinking and feeling through his many characters and comedy routines.
He was respected, admired and most of all, he was loved by millions of people who remember Jumanji, Aladdin, andMrs. Doubtfire.
He inspired those who watched Dead Poets Society and Hook. He took us on journeys of what wonder the human mind can achieve.
But nobody else really knows what depression does to you, except those who suffer from it too.
It eats away at the very fibre of your being until you feel like the world can never be a better place with you still in it.
Regardless of what good you do in the world, it feels like it’s never enough, and that when the shit hits the fan, you didn’t make enough of an effort to stop it.
Depression crawls under your skin every waking moment, and turns into vivid nightmares when you sleep.
You put on a smile, perhaps a laugh and sometimes overcompensate for the void that sits in your solar plexus. You’re the life of the party. The one with all the jokes.
And sometimes you are the one who makes everyone else better. You take care of everyone as if they are your own siblings, children and parents.
But you can’t take care of yourself. You are the least of your worries because everyone else is what matters.
You are but a shadow, worthless and full of nothing.
You try to pick yourself up, and you try to carry on each day as if nothing is wrong. But that inexplicable void gets larger and larger like a wild thing forming in your brain, eating up everything that’s good.
And finally you snap.
People pass off depression as being nonexistent or as being self-indulgent behaviour, and say that diet and exercise will cure you.
There is no cure for sadness. No amount of medication actually fixes you. And trying to explain it to your friends comes out as a blithering mess of words that mean nothing.
People think depression is stupid. It isn’t. Some people are just wired differently.
There is a fine line between mental instability and creativity, and Robin Williams found that spark that ignited the two into a beautiful cacophony of laughter and joy.
But he still felt the need to take his own life.
Depression is not a joke. It’s not mind over matter. It’s not something that just gets better with time or gets fixed with meds,
It stays with you for all time. You just get better at hiding the monsters in your head from the rest of the world.
And sometimes you lose that battle. And it’s heartbreaking when even the funniest man on earth can’t manage to keep that battle at bay.
Rest in peace, o captain, my captain.
I hope the monsters have now gone away.