From Laughter to Legacy: Addressing Depression After Robin Williams
Looking Back to 10 Years Ago: The Conversations are Still Needed
From the archives: I go back ten years to the day that this was written; and the day after Robin Williams passed. In today’s post-pandemic world, where the new pandemic is one of mental health amid ongoing societal and economic upheaval, addressing these issues is more urgent than ever. The struggles and challenges we face now underscore the need for a continued and intensified conversation about mental health. Reposting this piece serves as a poignant reminder of the ongoing relevance of these discussions and the critical need to confront and support mental health in our lives.
This story isn't going to go away anytime soon.
Depression, I mean.
Not Robin Williams.
Because depression is the real story here.
Yes, we lost a brilliant human being yesterday. But that bit of news – like all pop culture – will eventually creep into the back pages and the broken links.
Depression, though, will continue to make headlines. All too often for heart-wrenching reasons.
I don't know if there will ever be a cure for depression. If I allow myself to, I both doubt and fear that anyone suffering from mood disorders will ever truly get "better." At least for long.
I don't often allow myself to think that way, though.
Instead, I try to think about how we can raise awareness. And sometimes, such as now, I try to write about it.
For if we ever hope to make headway towards finding effective treatments for depression – or normalizing it, or making it seem real to the rest of the world – then we have to start making our own headlines. We have to clutch the power back from the negative and start telling stories about successes. Battles won. Progress made.
We have to quit waiting for the notable sufferers to die.
For anyone to die.
We need to look to the cancer survivors and start making a big fuss about depression. Walk for a cure. Run for a cure. Relay, race, or paddle for a cure.
Heck, depression being what it is, we could have a leave-the-gloomy-bedroom-and-blink-in-the-sunlight for a cure.
Anything.
But a big part of this depends on those who have already suffered.
And that has always been the hard part.
Talking about depression is difficult, to say the least. For those who have lived with depression, speaking of it can be a scary proposition. A sacrifice. Writing about it in print and online can compound this fear. After all, the written word has an uncomfortable permanence.
Those who have never faced these demons don’t quite understand.
No matter how much we think that the world has changed, there are still people out there who will think less of you when you bring up your illness. Well, this particular illness anyway.
Last night, on live television, FOX News' Shepard Smith called Williams a coward for ending his life.
A coward.
Can you imagine the howls of outrage had a news anchor called a cancer fatality a coward? Or the innocent victim of a car wreck?
It is no wonder that people keep their psychological pain to themselves.
What’s more, the bigger the sphere of influence, the scarier it can be. I definitely know when I tap the "publish" button on this piece, that there will be more than a few readers who will think I need to "suck it up” or "get on with it."
I suppose this is one of the few times that it pays to be a relatively small potato.
Even then, though, I’m reasonably sure that it will cause some people to feel wary about hiring me – which, I have to say, is definitely a liability for a person who lives by word-of-mouth referrals.
I’m pretty sure this wouldn’t be the case with cancer or car crashes.
Here’s the rub, though: like cancer, depression is a disease. Often a lethal one. And, as anyone who has ever suffered from it can tell you, depression can come at you from any direction -- out of the blue. When the smoke clears, you can only hope the damage wasn't too severe.
Suicide is the 7th leading cause of death among men in Canada – 10th overall when it comes to both sexes. At over 3,500 victims a year, it is only slightly behind breast cancer and well above automobile accidents. At the same time, an estimated 10% of the Canadian population suffers from some form of depression – so many of them are ticking time bombs.
And yet, as a society, we're scared to talk about it.
Williams leaves behind an impressive legacy. He was one of the most gifted comedians the planet has ever known. He inspired countless actors and artists and gave the world the incredible gift of laughter and joy.
If depression can triumph over a person of Williams' intelligence, wealth, success, and humour... well... it’s safe to say that none of us are immune. And when it is pretty much certain that at least one of your family or loved ones is suffering silently – suffering alone – you can also be sure that you know someone in need of help.
Williams' final legacy wasn't one of comedy, drama, or art -- even though it will quietly resonate as much as any of his on-screen successes. Instead, it was one of sober discourse. Through his death, lives will be saved. Through his loss, many will find the help they so desperately require. You see, while Robin Williams' voice may have been silenced, so many others have found theirs. Today we are talking about depression in ways that it should always be talked about. Not in hushed tones, but in open forums, on television news, and beside water coolers everywhere.
Some – a few – will open up for the first time ever. They’ll be honest with their loved ones and themselves in hopes of getting better. Others will reach out to those that they know are in need.
And a whole lot more people will be listening. At least for now.
Yes, I know, this proactive discourse won’t last long. Probably a matter of days. But the more we talk – the more we have need to talk and to come together – the more these conversations will become the norm. And that, really, is the first big step.
Who knows, maybe that first step will lead to national fundraising runs. Or walks. Or whatever it takes to get attention and funds. There is no question that it is surely needed.
Because I think we’re all a bit sick of these stories.
Suicide, I mean. Depression.
Not Robin Williams.
Because, at a time like this, we could all use a bit of Mork from Ork.
Shazbot.
Nanu Nanu.