Any Port in the Storm

    There's a scene in Good Will Hunting, a better movie than you might remember, where Will (Matt Damon) spots a painting on his therapist's wall. He immediately starts to critique the painting, basically tearing it apart as a piece of crap. The scene eventually ends with the therapist grabbing Will by the neck after he disrespects his wife.  That therapist is of course played by Robin Williams, who won his only Oscar for the portrayal. As everyone well knows, he died this week by his own hand after what apparently was a lifelong battle with addiction and depression.  So I think about that painting on the wall, a man in a rowboat on stormy seas seemingly hellbent on swallowing him, and how he still rows for shore. This week Robin Williams stopped rowing.

  Williams was known and celebrated for his manic energy, his seemingly stream of consciousness comedy that would erupt when the cameras came on, volcanic in its volume.  He would flit from character to character, voice to voice, and topic to topic with what seemed like ease, but if it was so easy why couldn't anyone before or since do what he did? (not quite used to the past tense yet) What we are finding out now is that those masks were to hide the darkness inside. It appears Robin Williams was comfortable at being everyone else in the world except Robin Williams.  

  If you didn't know much about depression before this week, Williams' death this week has been a flicker of light in a dark corner.  Imagine a Oscar winning actor, with a string of film and TV hits (and misses, let's be honest) as long as anyone that has ever been in the business.  He was beloved by millions. Yet this week he decided the pain inside him was too much, the waves were swallowing him up.  The millions of voices telling him what a talent he was couldn't drown out the voice inside that must have been telling him all hope was lost.  That's what depression is, a pain that will not go away, no matter what.

  I know depression has darkened my path from time to time, I'm not ashamed to admit, especially after this week. I've never felt that drowning sensation though.  Depression has touched my family in a big way. I have seen what being in its grips can do, the dragging down, the struggle to get back up, and the dragging down again. I had desires at times to yell "shake it off, pick yourself up!"  That's the ignorance I had that only time and understanding could burn off.  It's not that simple, it's maybe the most complicated of burdens.  

  If you yourself are depressed, find a person to reach out to. If you know someone who is depressed, or "down," or "sad," or whatever the term may be, be that hand that they can reach out to. Pull them up from the waves if you can. An actor, comedian, and humanitarian left us this week.  The attention his death has gotten is partly based on his amazing body of work, and partly due to the manner of his passing.  If he died of a heart attack, I doubt the coverage would be as blanketing. He died of depression. It's that serious. Get help if you need it and give help if you can.  Rest in Peace Robin Williams, thanks for the laughs and thanks for the tears.