Ive seen several posts saying, I wonder what Robin Williams could have been so depressed about? He was rich and famous, talented, had a loving family, etc, etc. These commenters dont understand the nature of clinical depression. The best analogy I can think of is: Imagine a person with a huge, absolutely real but invisible anvil on his chest, compressing his lungs flat so that he cant breathe. And everyone around him is saying in puzzlement and alarm, Just breathe! Theres air everywhere! We have such nice clean air here, no pollution at all! Try harder! Just open your mouth and breathe! Maybe if you go outside? Its nice out today, youll like it! When someone has clinical depression, the pathways of his brain that channel good feelings are blocked by such an anvil. That barrier is physical, neurological, not emotional. Its as real as a blood clot in the brain, and it can be just as lethal, and just as hard to wish, hope, or will away. And when a person has a dual diagnosis of both depression and addiction, as he did, the anvil is many times heavier. Sometimes its just too heavy to bear. Dont get me wrong -- Im not saying there is no hope when the anvil is so heavy. Many times even when people think that weight can never lift, it does, and happiness can bloom again. I wish Mr. Williams could have held on a little longer in the hope that that could happen again for him. But tonight, instead of thinking about the tragedy of his death, I want to salute the strength, dedication, humor, honesty and willingness to ask for help that apparently carried him through many decades of what was by all accounts a vicious depression/addiction combo. Yes, the black dog finally got him, helped by the monkey on the back. But it took a long goddamn time, and he did years of good, meaningful work and was, despite his demons, reportedly a generous, kind friend and a loving family man. So tonight, I will just say this: Well fought, sir. Well fought.
Posted on: Tue, 12 Aug 2014 04:04:19 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015