Celebrity deaths seldom phase me which is why the impact of Robin William's recent death caught me off guard. I was already in a troubled frame of mind and heart when I parked my Dad's truck on the street to wait for Stevan to come help me unload my bike. I sat down on the sofa in my parents' living room and the news of his death came in the form of a Facebook post and cast me into a sudden state of surreal shock.
My mind was flooded with memories of the foundation of one of my longest standing friendships, years of referencing Live at the Met like a bizarre second language the two of us understood. I was immediately concerned about Kelci because I knew that she would be devastated as my love for Robin Williams began as a reflection of hers.
The saddest part for me was the fact that I was not surprised. I was in shock at the loss, but I understood with an unfortunate certainty what had happened, even before the news started reporting details. Depression is insidious and relentless and must finally have gotten the better of him.
His energy, his brilliant bursts and manic wit had always seemed as though they must come at some cost. I think that manic depression was a term that I learned in reference to Robin Williams many years ago. In the 80's it was pretty clear that he was burning high, fast, and hard and that if he wasn't careful, he was going to burn out. It was clear to me that in order to have such highs, the corresponding lows must be desolate. I don't know what changed or what happened, but it seemed as though there was a point in his career when he mellowed out a bit, that he was healthier and more balanced yet still completely witty and engaging. He made beloved films with variety that showcased his talent and versatility, and somehow his intensity seemed to draw from a well that didn't seem so unwell anymore.
I think what I'm getting at is that despite the fact that I know that issues like depression don't tend to go away, I relaxed into the notion that he had beaten his demons. I realize how naive that sounds, but I fully believed that Robin Williams had faced off with his depression and won, and for someone who deals with their own depression, this is an inspiration.
Of course, as someone who deals with cycles of depression should also know, it doesn't work like that.
Maybe this is why I was so deeply shaken? I don't know for sure but I felt his loss profoundly and personally and I am assuredly grieving in some small way, occasionally still unable to grasp that this is a world in which he is no longer taking breath.
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| "What SEEMS to be the problem officer?" |
I am not manic depressive. I do have depression cycles that haven't been diagnosed as such, but I recognize for myself that the amount of wrestling that I do with my own brain is not always healthy and goes through phases where it is completely exhausting. I realize that it is normal to be depressed when life hands you hard blows, but I can tell the difference from years of observing myself that there isn't always an outside trigger for my feelings when I get sad and feel like my life is lacking any sort of purpose. I don't think anyone starts out suicidal but how do you know when you've started down the path? Why not try to step off of it before it becomes dangerous?
If his life could serve as an inspiration to me, then so will the ending of it. I have taken a hard look at some of my habits, particularly those that involve me isolating myself, making me resist asking for help when I need it, or feeling guilty for admitting that I'm not okay all of the time and decided that it is time to be kinder to myself. I spend time feeling lonely because I have trouble making the connections with people that I need for a variety of reasons. To hurt yourself in an effort to keep others from hurting you is counter-productive to be sure.
It might sound like a dismissively small thing, but with this in mind, I asked for company from my friends in the task of getting my apartment packed up. I don't have much, but being in the apartment now that I'm pretty much not wanted here is difficult for me. The response of support was heart warming and I'm doing my level best to not feel guilty that I don't want to try to do this all alone for fear of troubling people unnecessarily. I also don't want to lean excessively on others, but it shouldn't be so uncomfortable when people are helpful and supportive, especially when I cherish that I have so many caring and supportive people in my life.
I do not feel as strong as people tell me that I am, and mistakenly I have felt that there was an expectation with that perception that I have to handle things well, that when I am told "Hey, you've got this," that it means that I shouldn't be unhappy or hurt over difficult things. Then when my humanity gets the better of me I am ashamed of myself for not being able to be strong enough to be grateful for everything in every moment of each day. This has gone from making me feel increasingly disappointed in myself to out and out damaging my reactions to people and situations to a point where I feel overwhelmed and trapped, afraid to admit that I'm not okay. These are the traps my brain builds...this is the Flaming Hamster Wheel of DoOm and I laugh at it in order to cope. I laugh at a whole lot and that is basically how I put out the flames most of the time. Laughter is probably one of my biggest strengths.
And that's what the world lost with Robin Williams, a vibrant Source of Laughter, so how can we not feel sadness over his passing? The beauty and the importance is in the fact that he is not forgotten, that when you watch anything that he did that brings a smile to your face, he is still impacting this world with a legacy of joy and love and light that transcends his too brief time here.
Oh Captain, my Captain- thank you, sir. You may have lost your battle, but I still consider your victories greater. Thank you for helping me change my perspective, the world looks different from up here.
I considered doing a photo project, but I am currently engaged in a year long daily photo project on Facebook, so it feels like cheating. I keep telling myself that I need to write more, so here I go! A perfect flame in my wordsmithy forge to beat a blog entry out each day! I am going to concentrate on gratitude- appropriate to November with its Thankful Holiday, my birthday, and the crisp autumn tang to the air, redolent with nostalgic reflection on the past year and the anticipation of the new year to come!
Last night I was treated to one of these moments on my drive home from work. In fact, I have them almost daily from the seat on my moto when I'm riding under a sky painted in varying soft hues or in vibrant light and colors marking the day's end. Add into it the freeway, with its flowing asphalt curves, yellow lines glowing against the dark surface in my headlights, rivers of ruby and white marking the to and fro of my fellow travelers' paths from the hoods and tails of their conveyances, the actual forms of which begin to vanish in the fading light. I love when the sun disappears and the world is formless darkness around these bursts of brightness. When all else is blurred by velocity, these ethereal bits of yellow and red and headlamp white become the most solid indicators of the world around me and I feel exhilarated and full wonder at the magic of roads and the frightening freedom of walloping along, flesh and machine exposed to the possibility of so many things beyond my control while maintaining a vigilance within the pleasures to protect this breathing bunch of energy and keep it corporeal for a goodly smattering of days so that I can experience this again and again.
