Robin Williams

I don't consider my blog to be a place where I share things that will inevitably bring people down or to get on my soapbox, but today, I just can't stay quiet.

Robin Williams died yesterday. He had a creative mind that I always admired. It's not everyone who can seamlessly transition between a housekeeper in drag, a psychologist, and Peter Pan. He couldn't help but let his talent spill out upon whatever project he worked on.

I saw a discussion in one of my LinkedIn groups this afternoon in which the person asked for people to share their thoughts on Robin Williams' death. It opened with, "What happens when celebrities lose their way and think death is the only answer to their problems?"

No one can claim to know the inner workings of anyone's mind, but this person failed to mention something. Yes, he was a celebrity. But he was also just another person wrestling with depression.

Depression is of course a negative force that encompasses one's life. But it's also clever as hell. It's the chemical equivalent of the bully who tries to pressure you to do the exact thing you don't want to do. It seeks out your most vulnerable spots, and almost always succeeds. And if it commands something, at the time it makes perfect sense to your exhausted, weary mind.

How do I know this? I've had my own taste of it.

Every winter, I grapple with Seasonal Affective Disorder. While some people may refer to it as the "winter blues," it's much more than that. It's like a wet, heavy blanket that covers you from head to toe and no matter what you do, you can't pull it off. Every bad thing you've ever believed about yourself rushes to the forefront of your mind. The darkness outside often matches your insides.

And that's just three months a year. My heart goes out to people who face it every day of their lives. You are tougher than you know.

I've never come close to the moment of desperation Robin Williams must have reached, but at the same time, I can understand it. Like I said, in that moment, to a depressed person the thought seems reasonable. Your brain isn't firing the synapses correctly, and you take the form of another human being entirely. The fight goes out in you and you simply give in.

Depression is an incredibly stigmatized health condition. It's fine to discuss diabetes, heart disease, and osteoporosis ad nauseum, but bring up depression, and the room will bristle. I read a statistic today that 5 - 9% of Americans have depression. I believe that number is higher, but only the brave ones are reporting correctly.

If anything good comes out of Robin Williams' passing, I hope that depression is pushed out of its hiding place and into the light. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Let's bring it out into the open.