I know something about depression. I know about PTSD... and losing yourself and finding yourself, and losing yourself again. I know that cycle and I know that not everybody has the ability to pull themselves out of that cycle, or even get into a place where they have up and down days... only down days. Ive had a relationship with suicide since I was 19 and my Uncle John killed himself. His death changed me. Suicide made me mad. It has since I found out that someone I admired for his strength killed himself. The hardest thing for me after he died were the memories of all those conversations we had in the year following a car accident that took the life of my friend Anna and left the other four passengers in that car, including me, injured to various degrees. It was a dark time. Survivors guilt, PTSD, dissociative episodes... losing myself. My Uncle John was one of the people who called me on a regular basis to check in, took me out for coffee, dinners, and made sure I was okay. He held me up when I was at the bottom of a very dark well. The kind of well that consumes... and then a year later he killed himself. Suicide made me angry because my Uncle, who may have saved my life, never gave me the opportunity to be there for him in his darkest hour. Its hard to process that... its still hard to process. To accept. To let go... Robin Williams was like that for everyone. He gave so much of himself to us through the roles he chose and the message he shared with the world. His joy. His laughter. Hit wit. His heart... Mary recently reminded me of a quote from Lord of the Rings, that is appropriate... I Give Hope To Men, But I Keep None For Myself... I cant help but think of each of us as a vessel for hope, faith, love, and joy. That we share our hope with others and that in return they meet our hope with theirs. I was caught off guard by the notion that anyone could simply give of themselves... deplete themselves of hope. But I think of that line about Aragorn in LOTR and then I wonder if perhaps Robin Williams was incapable of receiving hope... and perhaps that is the nature of depression. I always thought I understood depression... I thought I had a relationship with the darkness... then I encountered suicide and discovered that my depths in the darkness were temporary and subtle impressions of the surface of an ocean I had only slipped beneath for a moment. That moment... it felt like forever. It still feels like forever when I think back on it now. But Im a swimmer. The thing Ive always struggled with is the notion that, in keeping with my previous analogy, the only thing you have to do to survive is keep swimming. (See Finding Nemo for more on this subject.) Swimming has always seemed so easy, so simple to me... why cant people swim? Why cant they be happy? How could you just stop swimming? When someone you care about kills themselves it changes how you feel about suicide, but it doesnt change the nature of the thing that caused them to take that final and absolute action. Ive been angry for a long time about my Uncles death, but Robin Williams helped me better understand why I was angry. Why I felt betrayed. The reality is that it wasnt about me... its not about US. Once you can accept that... it changes everything. Now I wish I understood why it was so hard for ME to understand that simple fact. Im going to miss Robin Williams... but Im not going to be angry he chose to kill himself. (Whether he was influenced by a Parkinsons diagnosis or not...) Im going to choose to celebrate his legacy. Its worth celebrating. Perhaps one day Ill be able to do the same for my Uncle... This guys video about depression is pretty great... its worth watching. youtu.be/HUHcc7ipGt0
Posted on: Sat, 16 Aug 2014 02:57:30 +0000
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