August 13, 2014
As we know, the world has lost a fellow depressive.
Robin Williams, the funny man, ended it without an ounce of humor for us. He
was done, and he meant it. Many don’t understand-I mean he was scheduled to
start filming the sequel to Mrs.
Doubtfire.
The movie came out in 1993. I remember it as being a
fun gender bending trope, along the lines of Tootsie. It was fun, silly, with the appropriate happy ending, and
a dialogue starter on social constructs.
As someone who understands a lot about depression, I
know what it’s like to be in a depressive state, “the down,” as I call it. I
can maybe hypothesize that this movie sequel would not be enough of a
trampoline to get back into the healthy thinking stratosphere.
Actually, I don’t know a thing about Robin Williams' depression. He was brilliant, and he could be manic in his brilliance. He was
adored, he could fill auditoriums. He was amazing. I can’t relate to any of
that celebrity royalty stuff. I can only relate to a feeling of that pit of
sadness with a perception that the only thing to look forward to is some silly
thing that will require tons of energy and time.
And so it seems he did something depressives shouldn’t
do: over extend, get too tired, forget that your brain chemistry requires intellectual
stimulation, your heart requires connection, and your body requires rest. If
these things are thrown out of whack, there isn’t much a depressive can do,
except wait it out. Wait until those things become in sync again. I have
developed many strategies over a lifetime of how to get my out of sync self on
that trampoline and jump back into that healthy thinking stratosphere. Unfortunately,
he just didn’t have the will to wait it out once again. And he stopped the
clock. Serious business this flipping sad stuff.
That’s my two cent theory anyway.
