I was just finishing up with dinner at a friend's house yesterday when I heard the news. I wasn't particularly shocked by it so much as saddened. Robin Williams was a fantastic entertainer, performer, and one of the best comedic improvisers I have ever seen. All of us should be grateful we were around to have seen him now, in the moment, instead of settling for bygone Youtube highlights.
In the coming weeks, we can expect considerable dialogue about the severity of depression, which is what ultimately took Williams' life. It is already happening across many forms of social media, where faux-machismo tends to reign supreme. There, tough guys exert their bravado and call each other a pussy, or a fag, for not being "man enough" to handle something such as whatever it may have been Williams struggled with throughout his life. It's comically sad, but very much not surprising. All one should do in order to witness proof we're still among some of the lowest common denominators in life is to browse message boards or the comments section of many stories that have to do with race, a woman's weight, suicide, and various other social matters affecting our world. Hiding behind the anonymity of a screen is the always the best defense for these misguided souls.
In the mainstream, FoxNews already - and probably expected- went there, calling Williams a "coward." Anchor Shepard Smith has already apologized for his wording, however it doesn't take away from what many people the world over are in agreement with him -
That committing suicide is somehow a cowardly and selfish thing to do.
I've been looking around trying to find the correct moment in time when we fully decided that someone killing themselves started obtaining the coward, or from here on in selfish label. We didn't do it twenty years ago when Kurt Cobain decided to take his own life. Liam Rector, an American poet and teacher, killed himself in 2007. To my knowledge nobody called him selfish. Maybe they did - which is perfectly fine - and simply kept it to themselves. Or maybe he just wasn't famous enough. So maybe the selfish label has little to do with time or popularity. Regardless, the label exists, and it's probably damn time we stopped using it.
Robin Williams suffered from depression, using alcohol (and earlier in his career, other heavy drugs) as a coping mechanism. He made that clear over the years in various interviews. In an interview with NPR's Fresh Air in 2006, Williams was asked about his personal self.
"Do I perform sometimes in a manic style? Yes. Am I manic all the time? No. Do I get sad? Oh yeah. Does it hit me hard? Oh yeah."
In a 2010 interview with England's The Guardian, Williams let even more on the table.
In the coming weeks, we can expect considerable dialogue about the severity of depression, which is what ultimately took Williams' life. It is already happening across many forms of social media, where faux-machismo tends to reign supreme. There, tough guys exert their bravado and call each other a pussy, or a fag, for not being "man enough" to handle something such as whatever it may have been Williams struggled with throughout his life. It's comically sad, but very much not surprising. All one should do in order to witness proof we're still among some of the lowest common denominators in life is to browse message boards or the comments section of many stories that have to do with race, a woman's weight, suicide, and various other social matters affecting our world. Hiding behind the anonymity of a screen is the always the best defense for these misguided souls.
In the mainstream, FoxNews already - and probably expected- went there, calling Williams a "coward." Anchor Shepard Smith has already apologized for his wording, however it doesn't take away from what many people the world over are in agreement with him -
That committing suicide is somehow a cowardly and selfish thing to do.
I've been looking around trying to find the correct moment in time when we fully decided that someone killing themselves started obtaining the coward, or from here on in selfish label. We didn't do it twenty years ago when Kurt Cobain decided to take his own life. Liam Rector, an American poet and teacher, killed himself in 2007. To my knowledge nobody called him selfish. Maybe they did - which is perfectly fine - and simply kept it to themselves. Or maybe he just wasn't famous enough. So maybe the selfish label has little to do with time or popularity. Regardless, the label exists, and it's probably damn time we stopped using it.
Robin Williams suffered from depression, using alcohol (and earlier in his career, other heavy drugs) as a coping mechanism. He made that clear over the years in various interviews. In an interview with NPR's Fresh Air in 2006, Williams was asked about his personal self.
"Do I perform sometimes in a manic style? Yes. Am I manic all the time? No. Do I get sad? Oh yeah. Does it hit me hard? Oh yeah."
In a 2010 interview with England's The Guardian, Williams let even more on the table.
"For that first week you lie to yourself, and tell yourself you can stop...and then your body kicks back and says, 'no, stop later.'"
"You feel warm and kind of wonderful...And then the next thing you know, it's a problem, and you're isolated."
The verbal warning signs were there. He sought help a few times, entering rehab and treatment centers the last decade of his life. But yet, sometime in the morning hours of Monday August 11, 2014, his actions then were deemed to be selfish by some.
Selfish to whom, exactly?
The prevailing notion I'm reading across some message boards seem to categorize Williams one in the same. He had so much money. He was so successful. He could have had any rehab or medical resource at his disposal. As if cashing movie checks or writing a successful book automatically cures mental pain. As if successful people shouldn't be allowed to feel pain inside because their lives outside are the envy of us middle classers. Nothing could be further from the truth, and Robin Williams is proof of that. His successful career did not reflect his inner demons. The man was able to separate his professional life from his personal one - so much so he still has four more movies coming out.
Williams circa 1969
The other sentiment out there with depression suicides seem to revolve around loved ones. How could he/she do that to his/her family? How is that not equally selfish? Their suicide is not about you. It was their depression, not yours. The most you could have done on your behalf was be there for them. Whether or not it's good enough is going to be up to them, not you. And that's the unfortunate reality. Williams received help, and on some occasions sought it out on his own. It wasn't enough. He didn't kill himself to make his family, friends, and fans feel sad. That wasn't his motive, nor anyone else who suffers from depression and ultimately reaches a breaking point.
The reason I was more sad than shocked over the loss of Williams had more to do with understanding his plight, as I'm sure many others can identify with as well. All these bouts with drugs and treatment. All these interviews where he subtly speaks on his afflictions. Something was coming. The signs were there, and it wasn't enough in the end. Thankfully, depression in the world of stand-up comedy is making its way to the surface. As it should, because it is a very real thing, briefly touched upon in such shows as Louie on FX. Williams isn't the first comedic personality to suffer, and he likely won't be the last. All we can do from our end is reach out to those who might be afflicted. Not just comics, not just musicians, writers, actors, computer programmers, singers, or athletes - everyone. There are always resources available to everyone suffering from depression. Let's stop puffing our chests out and fist bumping bros on the internet because being depressed is so gay and stupid. What if Robin Williams was your father? Your brother? Did you do enough? Did you help them? Compassion and empathy for your fellow man (and woman) should be valued over everything. We're not here for very long, folks.