Thoughts On Robin William's Death: Depression Lies

Like most everyone, I'm still processing the death of Robin Williams yesterday.  The fact that his death impacted so many shows the impact his life had on so many.  Unfortunately, he didn't feel that impact in his own life, believing the lies depression told him instead.

I'm writing this because it's important.  We've lost too many in our lives to depression and its lies.  It's important to know there is help and a way out that doesn't involve the end of a life.  And it's important that those who care about someone with depression know it's not willful misconduct or lack of love that drives the depressed person; it's the lies they're hearing.

I remember the first time I saw Robin Williams.  It was in the 1970s and he popped into Richie Cunningham's world on "Happy Days."  I couldn't take my eyes off him.  He was a frenetic ball of energy, bouncing around the set, talking a million miles a minute.  As he moved through his career, he never seemed to lose that energy, that boundless child-like amazement and he took us with him on his wild ride.

Along the way, there were reports of rehab stints, where one or another of his addictions got the better of him, but it never diminished the love we had for him.  Even in the depths of his addiction, he was never publicly mean (as some actors and actresses have torpedoed their careers - Hi, Mel).  He was always kind to those interviewing him and to anyone, child or adult, he met.  He gave of his time and energy to make others happy, to see others smile.

Robin Williams suffered depression, a disease that impacts the lives of millions around the world, to a greater or lesser degree; you could see it in his eyes, even when he was laughing.  I, personally, think we all suffer from a little depression, a fact borne out by studies.  There are several types of depression but each type has the same trait - it lies.

Depression tells you you're not worth it.  It tells you you're stupid, or no one cares.  At its depths, it tells you life isn't worth living because, after all, what's the use?  It brings down a black, see-through curtain between you and the rest of the world.  The world can see you, you can see the world, but the "you" the world sees is as if there is no curtain, while you see everything swathed in a black overtone, coloring everything.

Despite the best efforts of those around you, when you're battling the worst of depression, no one can reach you behind the curtain.  You hear the muffled sounds of the world going on around you, but the joys the world has to give can't penetrate the curtain.  You can only hear the sound of depression, telling you over and over how hopeless it is.  You feel totally alone under that curtain, even when you're surrounded by those who love you.  The joys and achievements of life can't reach your heart, even if you're blessed with the things most people yearn for their whole lives; fame, fortune, achievement, loving family, prestige, reputation - all these things are meaningless behind the curtain.

Depression often leaves those around you feeling frustrated and angry.  It drives people away because, after all, you're not worth anyone's attention, so why are they still here.  Family and friends try to reach you behind the curtain, but you either can't hear them or they can't break through.  They don't understand, though, so they back away, believing the lie depression has told them, too:  you're just unsociable ... you don't love them enough to come out from behind the curtain, not realizing you just can't.

Meanwhile, from behind the curtain, you grasp at anything that helps you feel in control, but that grasp can feel like steel fingers to those outside the curtain; it feels like you're clinging, hanging on desperately because you are.  The problem is, no one else can see the curtain, so they don't understand ... they merely think you're being unreasonably clingy, meddling in their affairs or unduly frantic.  They don't know that depression makes you frantic on the inside and sometimes, it comes out.

Why am I talking about this?  Because, for the most part, depression is still extremely misunderstood.  It's still colored by old preconceptions, that depression is a personality weakness, that you can merely "get over" being depressed if you just "buck up."  I remember, when I was the middle of the worst of it, being told I was no longer welcome around certain family members if I didn't stop being depressed.  Because, yeah - that works well.  Of course, at the time, I didn't know I was depressed; I just felt frantic, not recognizing the curtain until it was too late.

There is hope, though.  There are ways to take the curtain down.  But, for the depressed person, it means recognizing the curtain and fighting through it to get help.  And there is a ton of help available.  Not every treatment works for every person.  For some, a combination of medication and therapy works.  For others, it means continually adjusting and changing medications to ensure stability; for those with severe clinical depression, one medication might work for a time only to have a tolerance build, at which time another medication needs to be added or changed altogether.  It takes time.  It takes patience.  It takes love.

If you or someone you know is dealing with depression, even just a little, get help.  Regardless of your financial status, help is available in every community around the country.  Just call.

And know you are loved.  There is no person in this world who is not loved by at least one person, no matter what depression tells you.  You might not know the person who loves you; they may have been someone you opened the door for or helped when they dropped their groceries outside their car.  It might be the woman you held the elevator for, or the child you picked up after they fell.  It might even be the person sitting next to you at breakfast in your own home.  Regardless, there is always at least one person who loves you and cares for you.

Believe that.  Don't believe the lies.