Joe Guse's Blog, page 5

Blue Monday and the 3 Ghosts of the Holiday Season

For those that don't know, Monday, January 15th is "Blue Monday" this year. What is Blue Monday, you may ask? It's supposed to be the most depressing day of the year. There's even a formula for it calculating the weather, debt level (specifically, the difference between debt and our ability to pay), the amount of time since Christmas, time since failing our new year's resolutions, low motivational levels and the feeling of a need to take charge of the situation. Although the origins of Blue Monday are actually quite dubious, there is some truth that January can be kind of a depressing month. 


As someone quite familiar with Seasonal Affective Disorder as both a patient and a doctor, I know this plays a role. After the anticipation of Christmas there's always a bit of a letdown, and in the US at least, the weather often turns truly dreadful. That certainly is a factor.

But I also think there's something about the holiday season that might contribute a little bit. I came to this idea while watching one of those Hallmark Christmas movies with my mother. I watched for a minute and scoffed at the hackneyed formula playing on people's emotions and sentimentality. An hour later I was sitting with a box of tissues rooting for the grizzled town veterinarian to finally find love with the lonely widow. What can I say? Fruitcake makes me emotional.

The first ghost as per the Dickens' legend is the ghost of Christmas past . This is the ghost of regret. For some, it's another year where they haven't met their goals, found love, improved their financial situation, or whatever. For others, being with family after a long layoff stirs up a number of old feelings of not being good enough and letting people down. Others remain estranged from their families, which can be particularly lonely and painful at Christmas time. 

The 2nd ghost is the ghost of Christmas present . This is the ghost of stress. Many of us worry about how we're going to make it all work financially. Others may worry a great deal about how they look, or where they are in their lives, or how they're going to make it through another year without a catastrophe. For parents, there is that pressure to meet expectations and make the holidays special for their children without also going into financial ruin. I remember my own mother working about three different jobs during the month of December so my brothers and I could beat the shit out of each other with our transformers. A lot of parents make that sacrifice. 

The third ghost is the ghost of Christmas future . This is the ghost of anxiety. Anxiety is a future-oriented fear. The unknown. Things hovering in the future that we haven't resolved and spend a lot of time worrying about. Maybe it's our health, or finding love, or passing a test, or paying our bills. All of us have these worries, and they seem to intensify in the middle of January if the Blue Monday equation is to be believed.

So perhaps the most important question is, how do we keep our heads above water during these tough times? That first week back to work? The first big credit card bill that comes? 

In the Hallmark movies, all of that stuff just kind of works itself out, but real life isn't so simple. Many of us have a plan for the new year to do things differently, and perhaps we've already started to slip a little. As gym owners all over the world can tell you, there is a huge difference between motivation and discipline. Motivation is dreaming of looking great and exercising like crazy for a day trying to get there. Discipline is going to the gym with a hangover a week later on a day you really don't feel like wanting to go. Strive for discipline. 

Beyond the usual "goal" stuff, I think we can also do a little better job managing those ghosts. Maybe it's swallowing our pride and making peace with someone from our past (one of my projects this year). Perhaps it's sending someone a short note telling them we're thinking about them in the new year. Or maybe it's even forgiving ourselves for something that is weighing heavily on our minds.


Although January is a time to unbury ourselves from the month before, perhaps it's also an opportunity to erase the etch-a-sketch and start with a clean palette of self-forgiveness and compassion.



And we can also resolve to do a little better with the people in our lives this year. Listen a little better, pay a little closer attention, stay in touch a little more. Be grateful that we all get another spin around the universe this year. Not everyone does.


Let's use our time as kindly as we can this year.

In Search of the Poetic Memory

The brain appears to possess a special area which we might call poetic memory and which records everything that charms or touches us, that makes our lives beautiful ... Love begins with a metaphor. Which is to say, love begins at the point when a woman enters her first word into our poetic memory.
Milan Kundera- The Unbearable Lightness of Being 

I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.
Roy Batty- Blade Runner (Who just wanted a little more time)



The year was 2008 and my life was stuck in neutral. I was finishing up my doctorate and was a grown-up man with bad furniture and ramen noodles in the cupboard. 



I needed an adventure.



With this in mind, I booked an impromptu trip to Ireland and left on a moment’s notice. Not being a wealthy guy at this juncture of my life, I stayed in a hostel, where I met a nice couple from Australia and a beautiful girl from Spain. 



Later that night, I sat with my new Spanish friend on the bridge at the River Liffey, and she told me about her life in Spain and some things she had been through. She talked about how she was alone in the world and in transition in her life and needing to make a human connection.


And then, our stories just kind of converged in that time and in that moment. It was sweet, romantic, and sadly fleeting. 















That was a poetic memory. 



Milan Kundera writes about this idea so beautifully and describes those little moments in our lives that etch their way into our “forever” memory. These are the things we come back to over and over. For many people, this might be the first time their partner said something that made them seem totally unique. And it doesn’t even have to be romantic stuff either. Maybe it’s something a teacher said we always remembered, or a compliment we received that was so unique it kept us going for years. These are those things that stand out in our minds in the wake of constant new information and experiences. The good stuff. The memory hooks. The mile markers. 



One theory of aging posits that time seems to move a lot faster when we get older because we have less and less of these memory “hooks” as we move into more responsible lives. In our 20’s we take more chances and travel and try on a lot of different places and people. This gets harder as we get older, and the years “fly by.”



As a frequent traveler, I thought about how this idea applied in my life. Often when I travel, I immerse myself in the local scene and try and find the exciting people and the adventure. But a couple of times in a row recently, I found myself staring at my phone more than I did introducing myself to new people. And in thinking about this, I knew that this was exactly how we lose those hooks. 



Staring down at your phone when you’re alone in a strange situation may certainly ease a moment of awkwardness.



 But it may also cost you a potential lifetime of memories. 



I decided to put my theory to the test on a recent trip to Wellington when I left my phone back at the room before I started my day. It was how I had traveled during the best years of my life, and I wanted to see how this might work in these more “modern” times. 



And so I wandered down strange streets with no google maps, no trip advisor, and no Yelp to guide me. I followed my nose down alleys, through laneways, and into some strange and exotic looking neighborhoods. 



I found a lovely little brewery down one of these laneways and immediately felt around in my pocket for my phone. That’s what we do now, right? Check our phones as a reaction to even the slightest moment of awkwardness, boredom, or social discomfort?



But this wasn’t an option, and I immediately struck up a conversation with the bartender, who provided me with a number of great ideas about the city.



But that wasn’t even the end of the story!! 


A lovely Irish lass overheard us talking and laughing and soon went to the back of the establishment and fished out a “beer map” of the city for me. She even accompanied me around to a few of the places on the map and introduced me around. 


This story does not end with a romantic interlude on a bridge. But it was a really amazing day. One I’m sure I’ll remember for a long time.


I’m not sure the day would have ever happened if I had brought my phone.


Don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating for some tech-free utopian society. In many ways, our lives are made easier by GPS, Google Maps, and even Tinder. But perhaps there is a cost. Perhaps the “escape” these devices provide, keep us locked in comfort zones that we may sometimes need to wander out of. This was certainly true for me. 


One thing I learned from my time working in nursing homes was that all of the “stuff” we accumulate will mean very little one day. Even the wealthiest patients I knew essentially ended up surrounded by what could fit into a small room. And the few things they did take with them into these little rooms? They weren’t their nicest things or their most beautiful clothes. They were pictures of their best memories. Times from their youth. Or perhaps something from when their kids were young. Memories. The best memories. The poetic memories. 




We should be making all of them we possibly can. Trust me as someone who spent years working with the elderly and the dying, that one day these memories will be the most valuable currency you have. 



Now go and find some little moments.



And put down your phone once in a while!!

An open letter to those in the helping professions about self care

Are you still reading? Good. I couldn’t think of a good title for this essay.

But I do have an important point to make about getting rid of toxic energy. Especially for those of us who spend our time helping and listening to others.



Now then, just imagine.

You begin your career as a nurse, doctor, psychologist, etc. as a brand new untouched sponge. You can absorb a lot. Terrible stories, trauma, uncooperative clients, bureaucracy, problems with insurance companies, etc. The water comes pouring in again and again and again. But you can handle it. You trained for this.


But as the years go by, the water gets a little dirtier and the sponge gets a little heavier. Maybe it doesn’t even clean things as well as it used to after a while.



And you probably see where this is going by now.


The sponge needs to be squeezed out. All that dirty water takes its toll. Sure the sponge gets a little more frayed around the edges, but really, it should be rinsed out every day.



But let me back up for a minute and tell you a story.



The year was 2005, and I was looking for my first job in the realm of psychology. I talked my way into a job as a biofeedback therapist at a prominent headache clinic, and set to work teaching relaxation and coping skills to people with severe headaches. It was interesting work and I learned a lot, but all day long I heard one word. Headache. And I sympathized! I saw the pained look on people’s faces and got very involved in their lives. I listened, learned, and in many cases even helped. But you know what else happened??



I started getting headaches...



I learned I was not the only one. Many of the doctors, nurses, and even receptionists that worked there got headaches as well.



You see, hearing all of those stories about headaches was like water pouring into the sponge. Often times when we sympathize, and in particular when we empathize with people, we help them share their pain.



But we also in many ways absorb it.

Much has been said about the importance of self-care, supervision, and maintaining a level of personal detachment with our patients. It all sounds pretty good. But the fact of the matter is there are often more patients than people to help them, and I have found this to be a universal truth around the world. And often the people that care spend the most amount of time with the people they are caring for, which means less time to do paperwork, more time spent at work, and in many cases even taking work home after we stop giving paid.


I’ve found this to be true in every office, hospital, state, and even country I have ever worked in.


In many cases, this leads to caring professionals feeling completely overwhelmed, Tired. Stressed. Burned out.


We need to remember to squeeze that sponge. To let that toxic energy out. To repair and refresh ourselves.



How do we do this? Sometimes it’s getting help of our own from fellow professionals. After all, who helps the people that help? Maybe it’s something simpler like making time to listen to some of your favorite music every night, or making sure we are prioritizing time with friends and family. It could also mean taking care of our bodies by getting enough sleep and not eating on the run all the time. Maybe it’s turning your phone off when work is done and drawing appropriate boundaries around work time versus personal time. It could be time in nature, or a night out dancing, or playing a stupid video game for a couple of hours. Whatever it is for you, make sure you're making time for it!



I’ve seen many, many good nurses, doctors, cops, psychologists and teachers who had to give up something they were good at because they couldn't separate the personal and the professional. And the world lost something good because of it.


And maybe you aren't "officially" in the helping professions, but simply someone who is a good listener. Perhaps your friends and family sense this and unburden themselves to you all the time without realizing the weight they sometimes leave behind. This applies to you as well.


We can’t set ourselves on fire to keep other people warm all the time.


We need to squeeze that sponge.


So for those of you that do spend your lives helping others, please take this as a gracious thank you for all you do, as well as a bit of advice. Your family, health, and even sanity will all be better for taking some time to prioritize your own self-care.




Now rinse out that dirty water!

An open letter to caregivers- Squeeze your emotional sponge

Are you still reading? Good. I couldn’t think of a good title for this essay.

But I do have an important point to make about getting rid of toxic energy. Especially for those of us who spend our time helping and listening to others.



Now then, just imagine.

You begin your career as a nurse, doctor, psychologist, etc. as a brand new untouched sponge. You can absorb a lot. Terrible stories, trauma, uncooperative clients, bureaucracy, problems with insurance companies, etc. The water comes pouring in again and again and again. But you can handle it. You trained for this.


But as the years go by, the water gets a little dirtier and the sponge gets a little heavier. Maybe it doesn’t even clean things as well as it used to after a while.



And you probably see where this is going by now.


The sponge needs to be squeezed out. All that dirty water takes its toll. Sure the sponge gets a little more frayed around the edges, but really, it should be rinsed out every day.



But let me back up for a minute and tell you a story.



The year was 2005, and I was looking for my first job in the realm of psychology. I talked my way into a job as a biofeedback therapist at a prominent headache clinic, and set to work teaching relaxation and coping skills to people with severe headaches. It was interesting work and I learned a lot, but all day long I heard one word. Headache. And I sympathized! I saw the pained look on people’s faces and got very involved in their lives. I listened, learned, and in many cases even helped. But you know what else happened??



I started getting headaches...



I learned I was not the only one. Many of the doctors, nurses, and even receptionists that worked there got headaches as well.



You see, hearing all of those stories about headaches was like water pouring into the sponge. Often times when we sympathize, and in particular when we empathize with people, we help them share their pain.



But we also in many ways absorb it.

Much has been said about the importance of self-care, supervision, and maintaining a level of personal detachment with our patients. It all sounds pretty good. But the fact of the matter is there are often more patients than people to help them, and I have found this to be a universal truth around the world. And often the people that care spend the most amount of time with the people they are caring for, which means less time to do paperwork, more time spent at work, and in many cases even taking work home after we stop giving paid.


I’ve found this to be true in every office, hospital, state, and even country I have ever worked in.


In many cases, this leads to caring professionals feeling completely overwhelmed, Tired. Stressed. Burned out.


We need to remember to squeeze that sponge. To let that toxic energy out. To repair and refresh ourselves.



How do we do this? Sometimes it’s getting help of our own from fellow professionals. After all, who helps the people that help? Maybe it’s something simpler like making time to listen to some of your favorite music every night, or making sure we are prioritizing time with friends and family. It could also mean taking care of our bodies by getting enough sleep and not eating on the run all the time. Maybe it’s turning your phone off when work is done and drawing appropriate boundaries around work time versus personal time. It could be time in nature, or a night out dancing, or playing a stupid video game for a couple of hours. Whatever it is for you, make sure you're making time for it!



I’ve seen many, many good nurses, doctors, cops, psychologists and teachers who had to give up something they were good at because they couldn't separate the personal and the professional. And the world lost something good because of it.


We can’t set ourselves on fire to keep other people warm all the time.


We need to squeeze that sponge.


So for those of you that do spend your lives helping others, please take this as a gracious thank you for all you do, as well as a bit of advice. Your family, health, and even sanity will all be better for taking some time to prioritize your own self-care.




Now rinse out that dirty water!

Here Comes the Sun

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it's all right ~George Harrison (The Beatles)

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.
~Anatole France

If you listen closely enough, you’ll begin to realize that your life has a soundtrack. Think about it. I’ll bet there are certain songs that have kind of followed you around throughout your life.


Here comes the sun is one of the songs on my soundtrack. I often hear this song following a period when life has knocked me down a little bit. And there’s a bit of a literal connotation as well. As a long time sufferer of Seasonal Affective Disorder, I love the message of hope that the song conveys.


Even the worst winters have to end sometime.


Most recently, I hear the song while sitting in a bar on the gorgeous Riverwalk in San Antonio. I was on a great vacation, spending time with my family, and seeing some amazing things.


And yet that particular night I was feeling down. I was thinking of my vacation coming to an end, and thinking how little time I had with my mother now that I lived overseas, and a little tired from a very active vacation.


And then I heard my song! Here comes the sun. It was exactly what I needed in that moment, and I sang along with every word and then gave the singer a very large tip. It was the perfect song to return me to the present moment. The only place I needed or wanted to be.

But in working with clients for a decade now, and in battling with my own issues over the years, I’ve learned the hard way that some winters last longer than others. Some of the seasons of our lives can be very stubborn, and we begin to lose hope that anything can ever change. But go back to your hometown some time and take a look around. I’ll bet you everything has changed. That’s the way life is. We never see the changes in a day but are often astounded by the changes over the years.


But in these dark seasons, we can learn to alter our responses. One of the most effective treatments for depression is something called behavioral activation. It sounds like a fancy psychological idea. It’s not. It’s basically a term for “doing stuff.” Even when we don’t feel like it. Join a group. Take a guitar lesson. Get together with some friends once a week for coffee. It’s amazing how even one little circle on a calendar can restore a little hope. For me, I ALWAYS have a trip planned. Even if it’s a little one. It reminds me that better times are ahead and that I have something to look forward to.  Behavioral Activation

Sometimes it’s hard to see things clearly though. You try meds, and therapy, and exercise, and gluten free brownies and just about anything else to try and beat the blues. But it doesn’t work. None of it works. And sometimes this is because the only thing that really alleviates depression is time. The passage of time regulates seasons in the mind much like it regulates the seasons of the earth. Dark moods don’t last forever. Neither do great ones. Such is the transitory nature of time, life, moods, and seasons.



When we can accept and understands this, we can deal with it.



Even in the darkest of seasons.



And meanwhile back in the Southern Hemisphere, the first day of spring had just arrived. It’s been a long, cold, lonely, winter.



But here comes the sun.



And I say.




It’s alright….

Dance like no one is watching

“We do not have ideology. We do not have theology. We dance.”
Shinto priest to Joseph Campbell
Come dancing,
Come on sister, have yourself a ball.
Don't be afraid to come dancing,
It's only natural. The Kinks- Come Dancing
And we danced like a wave on the ocean, romanced
We were liars in love and we danced
Swept away for a moment by chance
And we danced and danced danced.
The Hooters-And we Danced


It’s winter in New Zealand. In July.


I’m used to July being a fun month, it's not here.


So what’s a gal to do? Think outside the box a little. So that's just what I did this weekend. I found a Neil Diamond impersonator who was playing a show way out in the sticks. I was sold!!


But that’s not the most interesting part of the story.


Just after a glorious version of “Coming to America,” a little lady wandered up to the singer and whispered something into his ear. She gestured towards her friend, who was in a wheelchair, and the singer nodded.


I was intrigued.

A moment later the singer belted into “Sweet Caroline” and the little lady pushed her friend onto the dance floor. She loved Neil Diamond and had loved to dance as a healthier woman, and wanted another tour of the dance floor.

And then the nicest thing happened.

The crowd, who hadn’t had quite enough alcohol to dance, all almost simultaneously joined her on the dance floor. Her face lit up into a huge smile and the singer eventually brought her up on the stage with him. Here is a picture of that moment.


It reminded me of what an extraordinary thing it is to dance. When I was younger I was “too cool” to dance and would hover around the back and look on in judgment.


There’s always a guy like that at every party. Don’t be him.


Nowadays, I’m often one of the first people on the dance floor. I don’t care if I look stupid. A part of me even knows I do. But who cares??


The music (and let’s be honest, the beer) moves me to express myself.


Later, I chatted with the woman and she told me all about her nights spent dancing as a young girl. It reminded me of the lovely song, “Come Dancing” by the Kinks quoted at the beginning of this essay. The song switches on my nostalgia button like crazy.  It’s fun. 80’s. Wistful

So later on, I had the privilege of sharing a dance with the lady in question.  It reminded me to dance while I still can. One day my legs won’t work anymore, I’ll grow old, and I’ll have nothing but memories.

So tonight I decided to make another one.



So for everyone out there that’s “too cool,” I urge you to rethink your position. Dance like no one is watching. If you can master that, you’re winning at life, I promise you.


So I will close with a little picture of me in Costa Rica. Me in all my sweaty, non-Spanish speaking glory.


I made a lot of new friends that night.. Despite not knowing the language. Music and dancing are universal languages that break down barriers of culture, class, language, and age.

And if you’re ever in New Zealand in July, give me a ring..



I just might take you on a tour of the dance floor to Sweet Caroline.

You Don’t Understand! Some things people with Anxiety and Depression want you to know.

“Most misunderstandings in the world could be avoided if people would simply take the time to ask, "What else could this mean?” Shannon Alder 



I’ve been a therapist for over ten years now. In a decade you hear a lot of things. A lot of the same things sometimes, but it’s also important to remember each person is a case study of one. A good piece of advice I once learned was to examine how a person was like all other people, how they were like some other people, and how they were like no other people. It reminds the person listening that every person you meet has their own unique story.

But there are also some common themes. Some ways people have been misunderstood in their lives. Some false assumptions others sometimes have about them. Here are some of them I’ve heard a lot.   When I cancel plans at the last moment, it’s not because I’m a snob or don’t want to hang out with you. My nerves have gotten the best of me and I had to stay home. You may be disappointed, but trust me that I’m even more disappointed in myself.
 There are things you take for granted that are incredibly difficult for me. Just going to the store can be a battle that takes me hours to prepare for. I pray I don’t run into anyone I know. Every word exchanged with the cashier is painful. For most, this is a mundane activity. For me it's a kind of torture.
Talking to other people can be really hard for us. We’re constantly thinking of the right thing to say, and that makes us say the wrong things sometimes. Later we will go home and think about every misstep in the conversation, and this will fill us with shame. We’ll have lot of conversations in our heads trying to make it right again.
We HAVE tried a lot of treatments. We’ve tried pills, doctors, and herbs. Therapists, yogis, and healers. We’re well aware of the issue, believe me. We appreciate you trying to offer helpful suggestions, but really they just make us even more self-conscious.
 We’re really not very uncomfortable inside our own skin. Think about how you felt on the day you took your driver’s test, or your wedding, or when you had to make a big speech in front of the class. Remember the racing heart? The cold hands? How you kept forgetting silly little things? That’s how we feel all the time. That’s why it’s hard to take advice sometimes. Our dials are turned way up all the time. When we’re physically that wound up, the smart, rationale, thinking part of our brain turns off. It’s called fight or flight.
 It’s totally different suffering with something that’s “invisible.”  When people can’t “see” what’s wrong with you they often think (and even say) “It’s all in your head.” That’s true to a point. But that’s a big place for it to be!! When people say they don’t “believe” in mental health issues, it’s really hurtful and makes us feel like we don’t belong anywhere.



So there’s a few. There are a lot more on the list, but those are some of the big ones. Each person’s individual demons might vary, but these are some of the battles.


It’s not all bad news on the mental health front. More and more laws are being enacted around the world to ensure mental health is treated with the same respect as physical health. These kinds of laws aim to take some of the stigma away. Give people permission to talk about their battles without fear of disbelief and ridicule. They are a good start.


But if you do have a person struggling with mental health issues in your life, be patient. They know something isn’t right, and sometimes they need a little understanding even when they’re not being very nice. They want to talk about it but it’s very hard. Embarrassing even. 


But they're trying…

Today is the greatest day I've ever known.

Warning, this essay might not be about what you think it’s going to be about.


Unless maybe you like 90’s music.




But let’s get started.


It was the 90’s in Chicago and I had moved there to take the world by storm as a comedian.


It wasn’t really working out.


I was working as a doorman at a bar and not even doing that very well. I didn’t like taking people’s fake Id’s. Those things were hard to come by.

One cold spring night I was walking home from work in a funk. I walked passed restaurants and bars and people having fun with their friends and wondered if I made the right move coming to Chicago. Everyone seemed to have it all figured out but me. 


It was a dark night of the soul.

I walked past a place and head a song that caught my attention. It was a sad sounding song but the lyrics seemed kind of light and happy.

‘Today is the greatestDay I've ever known
Can't live for tomorrow
Tomorrow's much too long
I'll burn my eyes out
Before I get out’

I felt strangely uplifted by the strange contrast between the song's music and lyrics and went inside. 


It was The Smashing Pumpkins, and they were fronted by a guy named Billy Corgan.


I didn’t realize the significance of that night until much later on. For one, I was seeing a band that was going to become one of the voices of a generation in a small little venue.

But to me, it was much more than that. That song was stuck in my head and became my new favorite tune that summer. It got me through some tough days and long nights.

Eventually, I learned I wasn’t crazy. The song was about someone going through crippling depression. Corgan wrote it about his loneliness, isolation, weight gain, depression, and the suicidal feelings he was experiencing in the wake of a life that wasn’t working out the way he expected. In his own words~


“I reached a point in my life where I felt like I was living through some old character. It's like you assume some character and you take that as far as it can go and then it doesn't work anymore, so you shed your skin-and that's kind of what happened to me. I had become something that I probably am not in order to succeed and at some point I realized that, whatever I was, was hurting me, so I needed to go through the process of getting rid of that person. I had to kill off one part of me so that I could go on, and some of that started in the writing of the songs."
And also.

“It's sort of a wry observation on suicide, but in essence, the meditation behind the lyric is that every day is the best day, if you let it be."


As for me, I grew a lot that summer in Chicago. I made new friends, got a better job, and did a few shows around the city. I used to walk by this purple house that was about a block from my own. It was owned by?

None other than Billy Corgan! He may have written those very lyrics there that got me through that first tough year in Chicago. He was rich and famous and I was broke and aspiring, but it seemed like he was going through a lot of the same things I was.


The lesson was something that stuck with me. I had been operating under the assumption that when I just “made it”, that I would no longer have dark days and depressing nights, but perhaps I was wrong. Maybe I was chasing all the wrong things?

Years later, I made a little name for myself discussing why people who have achieved fame and fortune are so prone to depression and self-destructive behavior. It was a bit of a strange twist, all things considered. I used to feel so down because I didn’t have all those things, but I’ve learned along the way that all of those superficial and external rewards like fame and fortune don’t do much to mend a fractured psyche or a broken heart.

But I also think a lot about what Billy later said about the song, “every day can be the best day if you let it be.”

It speaks to how we do have some say when it comes to our moods and our attitudes, despite the difficult circumstances we might find ourselves in. I’ve learned the hard way that depression plays no favorites and recognizes no measures of social status.

But I’ve also learned that it is within our power to be proactive about our response to depression. One of the most compressive books about depression is called, “I never knew I had a choice” by Gerald Corey. The book is a behemoth, and well worth reading for a master class on depression.

But in many ways, the whole point is right there in the title.

Personally, when I’m having one of those days now I think about it like going into battle. I play my favorite music and watch funny movies that make me laugh and am a little more generous with myself than I normally would be.



I know these days pass though. They have passed every single time I’ve had them and I know they will continue to do so.


But I’ve also learned to have some gratitude for the good days, because they pass as well. Great days with friends and wonderful days on vacation and long Sundays that last forever also slip quickly away. That’s the tradeoff. As C.S. Lewis said, “The pain I feel now is the happiness I had before. That's the deal.”

But in the meantime, we have today. And maybe it will be the greatest day you’ve ever known. But probably not. It probably won’t be the worst either. The odds don’t favor it.

In either case, we can greatly increase our odds of improvement by taking notice of the little moments. By being kind to others. By slowing down. Tasting our food a little better. Appreciating our friends a little more. It is my experience as a psychologist that people suffering from depression and anxiety have both lost sight of the little moments, often for very different reasons.

I’ve gotten better at noticing the little moments living in New Zealand. There are beautiful things everywhere. As Kurt Vonnegut says so well, “And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, 'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.”

I’ve got that written down in a lot of strategic places.


But today I’m feeling a little down about going back to work tomorrow after four days off, and I’m listening to the Smashing Pumpkins. I’m thinking about that kid walking the lonely streets on a cold Chicago night searching for something I’m not sure I ever really found.

But I have found something I do have control of all these years later.

Today…

A Psychological Analysis of Robin Williams

Robin Williams was truly one of the greatest comics of his or any generation. We were first introduced to Robin as a lovable alien on Mork and Mindy, and it didn’t take long before the whole country was captivated by his manic energy. Eventually, we learned that Robin was much more than just a comedic actor, as his roles in Dead Poet’s Society and Good Will Hunting would demonstrate he had real talent as a serious actor. When Robin took his own life on August 11th, 2014, the whole world was, therefore, shocked and saddened by the loss.

Robin Williams was born July 21st, 1951 in Chicago Illinois. His father Robert was a wealthy auto executive, who was 46 when his son was born. His mother was a former model who Robin jokingly referred to as a “Christina Dior Scientist” when describing her later. He had two older half-brothers, but Robin was essentially raised as an only child. The family was wealthy, and Robin spent a great deal of time with the nanny in his early formative years. 

Robin described intense feelings of loneliness growing up, and how he used to sit around his room making up characters and stories to amuse himself. He also liked to amuse his mother, and would try his early “routines” on her in an attempt to hear her laughter. He later discussed this desire to make his mother laugh as one of the pillars of his early interest in comedy. 

Robin was a shy, overweight kid growing up, and he spent his time playing with a room fully of toys, mostly on his own. Classmates remembered him as serious and introverted during these years, and also how he had a hard time adjusting as the new kid in classroom. 

When Robin was 12, the family moved to Detroit. They moved into a giant 32 room mansion which had huge gardens and acres of space to roam. It was an isolating place for such a lonely child, and Robin reported, “My only companions, my only friends as a child, were my imagination.”

Robin gained some confidence as he advanced into his school years, and he became the president of his class while also playing soccer and wrestling on the school’s team. Despite these positive changes, he also described how he was bullied by the other kids at the all-boys school he attended. He was also beginning to cultivate an understanding that making people laugh was a way of avoiding this bullying, and his sense of humor continued to evolve. 

During his junior year, his father retired from the auto industry and decided to move the family to the bay area in California. It was a huge change from the stuffy prep school atmosphere of Detroit, and Robin began to loosen up in both his personality as well as his appearance. His theater and comedy skills began to flourish in the laid-back California atmosphere. 

Robin began involved with The Committee, which was a well-respected improvisational group that came out of the Second-City tradition. He began to develop a talent for mimicry and imitation, and began to experiment with doing different voices. His comedy skills were continuing to grow. 

Robin attended two different community colleges following his graduation from High School, and spent three years studying theater and drama. People were beginning to notice his exceptional talent, and Robin would often improvise in various theater productions. He worked as a waiter in Sausalito to earn extra money, and specialized in entertaining the diners he served with various comedy routines. 

It was also during this era that Robin began to perform live comedy for the first time. One of his first gigs was at the Holy City Zoo in San Francisco, and he also performed at The Spaghetti Factory and The Boarding House, which were places for budding comics to develop their chops. He began to perfect his manic style of comedy during these years, and soon he had built a small following in the Bay area. 

In 1973, Robin received his first big break when he was awarded a full scholarship to The Julliard School in New York, which was one of the most prestigious acting programs in the world. The legendary John Houseman awarded him one of two places in the school’s advanced program. The other student chose for this award was Christopher Reeve, who would be one of Robin’s closest friends right up until Reeve’s tragic death in 2004.

There are many different versions as to what transpired during Robin’s time at The Julliard, but it was clear that many people associated with the school recognized him as a genius. One thing that everyone does agree on, is Robin never graduated from the institution, and reports vary as to what exactly happened. There appears to be some agreement from all of the various accounts that Robin’s manic performance style was at odds with the more traditional values emphasized by the institution. The school certainly emphasized the connection when Robin’s career went stratospheric. 

Here is the school’s official statement following Robin’s death. 

“The Julliard community is deeply saddened by the death of our distinguished alumnus Robin Williams. Robin’s genius for comedic improvisation, which quickly surfaced in his studies at Julliard, was matched by his deep understanding of the actor’s art and how to touch his audience in meaningful ways. He was a generous supporter of the school’s drama students through the Robin William’s Scholarship, which supported the tuition cost of a drama student each year. As an artist, he brought together a unique mix of traditional actor training with a creative spirit that set new standards for performance in cinema, television and live theater. His caring ways and effervescent personality will be missed by all who were touched by this special person."
Joseph W. Polosi
President of the Julliard School

Whatever happened, there appeared to be no hard feelings between Robin and the powers that be at the school. He did provide a full scholarship for Jessica Chastain to attend the school, which demonstrated he still had an appreciation for the education they provided. 

Here are Jessica’s own words on the subject.

“Robin Williams changed my life. He was a great actor and a generous person. Through a scholarship, he made it possible for me to graduate college. His generous spirit will forever inspire me to support others as he supported me. He will forever be missed.”

Following his time at Julliard, Robin decided he was going to return to the stage. This decision was born out of necessity as much as it was ambition, as the stage was where he was the most comfortable. Rather than return to San Francisco where he had originally made his name, Robin decided he would now take on Los Angeles. 

This was also the era where Robin’s drug use began to escalate. The late nights in the roaring 70’s included a great deal of alcohol and cocaine, and Robin was in the center of it all. Like many people who abuse cocaine, Robin also needed to come down, and thus began the cycle of going up and coming down with the help of drugs and alcohol. Robin’s drug use was also very much in keeping with the spirit of the time and place he came of age as a performer. 

Robin met Valerie Velardi when they were both young and aspiring actors. They quickly fell in love and moved in together after only a month as a couple. Shortly afterward, Robin was “discovered” by a television producer named George Schlatter, who was working on a remake of the legendary comedy show Laugh-In rebranded for a more current audience. Robin stole the show in his first appearance, and important people were beginning to take some notice. 1978 was a good year for Robin, as more television appearances followed and he and Valerie got married in June of that same year. 

Robin was attending Penny Marshall’s acting classes at the time, and she recommended him for a part in her brother Gary’s hit show Happy Days. On a recommendation for his seven-year-old son, Gary Marshall decided Happy Days needed an alien to spice things up. Robin Williams was to become that alien, and the seminal character “Mork” was born. 

Mork and Mindy became a huge hit, and phrases such as “Shazbot” and “Nanu Nanu”, became part of the American vernacular. The powers that be at ABC began to experiment with the highly successful show, and changing time slots, casting changes, and strange plotlines all began to affect the show’s popularity. The show moved from number 3 in the ratings to number 27 in just one season. 

The show continued to sink in the ratings in seasons three and four, and was not popular at all when it fell to number 60 in the ratings in its final season. When it was canceled in 1982, not many people were surprised. Rarely had a show had such a meteoric rise and dramatic fall. 

Robin began to doubt his comedic skills following the show’s failure. His first feature film Popeye was also a commercial and critical disappointment, and suddenly Robin’s rising career had stalled. His drug use was also escalating, and infidelity was increasingly becoming an issue in his marriage. 

Robin’s next movie was The World According to Garp, which was based on the successful but controversial novel by John Irving. Critics applauded Robin’s performance and he was now being taken more seriously as a conventional actor. Robin continued to engage in the excesses of the Hollywood lifestyle in his spare time. 

On March 5th, 1982, something happened that changed Robin’s life forever. Earlier that evening, Robin had been out clubbing and later visited his friend John Belushi at the famous Chateau Marmont on the Sunset Strip. They did cocaine together, and Robin left when he met Robin’s companion Cathy Smith who he did not approve of. He left Belushi in a cocaine and heroin-induced stupor, and said: “If you ever get up again, call me.” Belushi would die of an overdose later that night. 

This was a major turning point for Robin. Like Belushi, Robin’s success was both sudden and then stratospheric, and they both embraced the excess of their newfound fame with gusto. Robin learned his wife Valerie was pregnant with their first child around this same time. He was not at a serious crossroads. 

Ultimately Robin decided it was time to grow up and leave the drugs behind. He realized that having a child meant embracing responsibility and being present as a father, and he quit drugs without any professional intervention. He would remain clean for the next couple of decades. 

Although Robin had given up drugs, his other vices would soon come back to haunt him. A waitress at a club Robin performed at in LA sued Robin for giving her Herpes, which was a very public shaming that put a large strain on Robin’s marriage. Robin eventually settled the case out of court, but the damage to his reputation and marriage was done. Robin and Valerie divorced two years later. 

Robin was in need of a break in his life, and it came in the way of his seminal hit Good Morning Vietnam. For the first time in his career, Robin found a movie that allowed him to truly use his improvisational skills. The movie was a massive hit around the world. 

Robin was not free from scandal though, as he began a relationship with his son Zak’s nanny with a Filipino woman named Marsha Garces. The press got wind of the affair and were merciless in their mockery of Williams and his affair with the nanny. Despite this criticism, Robin and Marsha fell deeply in love, and were married in 1989. She was heavily involved in his career in the 20 years they remained married. They would have two children named Zelda and Cody. 

Robin made a number of bad films in his life, and also had trouble with his work on the stage. An example of this came in his 1988 production of Waiting for Godot with Steve Martin. The critics hated the play and especially hated Robin. Needing a hit, Robin’s career would then take an important turn, and his next big movie Dead Poet’s Society would return Robin to prominence. 

Dead Poets was the kind of movie that defined a generation. Robin’s turn as the passionate teacher John Keating earned him an Oscar nomination, and Robin was once again on top. An interesting pattern was emerging in his career, as people were becoming more and more drawn to his vulnerability as a serious actor than the manic characters he played at the beginning of his career. 

Next came another serious role in the movie Awakenings, which gave him another chance to play a quiet and reserved character. Many friends of Williams described how this was actually closer to his real personality, and how his manic and frenzied presentation was something he only used on the stage. In any case, the movie was well received by critics, and Robin thoroughly enjoyed the chance to work with the legendary neuroscientist Oliver Sacks on whom his character was based. 

Robin next did the voice of Aladdin, which was a hugely successful movie that people immediately associated with Robin's manic style. Robin was never comfortable with the marketing of the movie, and was embroiled in a lengthy dispute with Disney over the use of his name and voice in the film’s promotion. Disney tried to smooth the situation over by gifting Robin a painting worth a million dollars, but the damage had already been done. 

Next came one of Robin’s biggest hits in the form of Mrs. Doubtfire. The movie once again gave Robin a chance to use his improvisational skills, and the film was a massive commercial success. The movie's themes of divorce and co-parenting were very personal to Robin, and he also was able to draw on these experiences to bring a vulnerability and understanding to the character. 

In 1997, Robin turned in what was perhaps the performance of a lifetime when he played the troubled psychologist Sean Maguire in the movie Good Will Hunting. It was a performance that allowed him to summon all of his powers as a serious actor, and he created a character that was to become a true classic still referenced by psychologists in classrooms around the world. The performance would earn him his first Oscar. 

After the success of the movie, Robin’s life and work slowly began to change. He made a series of movies that were not well received in the latter part of his career, and he took it very personally when critics panned him in Patch Adams and other movies during that era. Robin also has some personal tragedies, as his friend Christopher Reeve was paralyzed in a riding accident, and he lost his beloved mother in 2001. Tougher times were on their way.

In 2004, Robin’s 20-year marriage began to suffer, in part because he relapsed and began drinking again. Along with this drinking, he became verbally abusive to his wife and his depression also returned. The death of Christopher Reeve in October of that year was a tremendous loss that sent him even further into a downward spiral. 

Robins’s career also continued to decline. He made ten movies between 2004 and 2006 that were all poorly received. His drinking continued to get worse and lasted for a period of nearly three years. He finally realized he had hit bottom later in 2006, and checked himself into a rehabilitation facility in Oregon to get professional help for his alcoholism. 

In 2008, Marsha finally filed for divorce, which cost Robin $30 Million dollars from his fortune. It was the beginning of some intense worries about money that would plague Robin for the rest of his life. Real or imagined, Robin believed he was having serious money problems during the last years of his life. 

Robin met another woman named Susan Schneider and they married in 2011 and moved into Robin’s mother’s home in Marin County. Robin continued to ruminate about money, and spoke often about he couldn’t afford his former lavish lifestyle. He decided to return to television to star in a show called The Crazy Ones, in part to alleviate the financial pressures he felt. The show was not well received. 

On August 11th, 2014, Robin Williams, who was 63 at the time, hung himself in the bedroom of his Marin County home. He took a belt, went into his stepson’s room, wedged the belt behind the door, and hung himself from there. He was in a seated position and there were also cuts on his wrists indicating other elements of self-harm. When his assistant found him at 11:45, his body was already cold.

The news sent shockwaves around the globe. People immediately wondered if his addictions and/or depression had finally beaten him. It was also known he had been diagnosed with early-stage Parkinson’s disease. Speculation was rampant as to what happened and why.

In the weeks and months to come, it was revealed that Robin also suffered from a disease known as Lewy-Body dementia. The symptoms of this disease include depression, anxiety, a lack of focus and concentration, as well as an inability to remember familiar people, places, and things. In short, Robin Williams was losing his mind, and a part of him was painfully aware of this. 

This information did not come to light for some time. His agent was on record as saying he had been battling severe depression in recent years. He had been to rehabilitation facilities for his drinking on more than one occasion in recent years. When his wife gave an interview about his Lewy-Body dementia nearly a year after he died, she made it clear she believed that it was this disease that was responsible for his suicide. 

In exploring this question, it seems important to explore how this disease affected his personality, but also the complex personality forces that existed long before this disease affected his personal choices. Robin Williams had suffered from depression for decades and his recent relapses with alcohol also indicated some further distress. People are still interested to know why one of the world’s most well-known and successful comedians would choose to end his own life in such a gruesome manner. 

Gender Role Preparation perceived through Gender Guiding Lines and Role Models

In exploring the personality forces that shaped Robin Williams, it is useful to go back to the beginning. Robin was a lonely, overweight child who was raised in a setting that included a great deal of loneliness and isolation. His father was a very successful man who was an executive in the auto industry. He was a hard worker and instilled in his young son some of this same work ethic. The fact that Robin would make over 60 movies in his career speaks to Robin’s respect for his father’s early modeling and lessons about working hard. 

Although Robin loved and respected his father, his mother was certainly the most important influence on the man he would one day become. In a number of interviews over the years, Robin discussed how the interplay between him and his mother was how he came to appreciate making people laugh. His mother placed a high value on humor and laughter, and Robin learned that if he could make his mother laugh, he could also win her approval and admiration. 

It seems quite simple to suggest that Robin’s desire to please his mother was at the root of all of his comedic genius, but this was an attribution he himself would often make when he was asked about the origins of his comedy. In an interview with Diane Sawyer, he referenced the life of Lenny Bruce in comparison to his own, and how they both developed their comedic skills and habits in response to being raised by mothers who liked to laugh. 

Interpersonal Style perceived through Experience of Family Atmosphere

In exploring Robin’s early life, it’s important to understand the isolation of his early years, and what it must have been like for him growing up in his 40-room Detroit home when his mother and father were rarely around. He discussed how he would often spend time on his own with his large group of toys, and he created characters and stories to entertain himself due to the lack of company in the home and in his life.

Being raised in relative affluence, Robin was also exposed to the finer things in life, often at the expense of family time and more personal communication with his parents. Robin’s father would choose to work long hours at his job as an executive, and Robin himself would often go “back” to work as a stand-up comedian after a long day of shooting his TV shows and movies. 

There was also a lot of laughter between Robin and his mother in the home when they did get to spend time together and Robin learned to cherish this time. Perhaps the fact that this time was often limited instilled a sense of urgency in Robin when it came to making his mother laugh. This sense of urgency with regard to making people laugh was apparent throughout Robin’s life, as he could rarely sit still through an entire interview without launching into non-sequiturs and his “shtick.” When Robin was on-stage you almost always got the full, manic Robin. This pattern may be directly related to his early interactions with his mother. 

Personal Code of Conduct perceived through Acceptance/ Rejection of Family Values

The loneliness and isolation of Robin’s early life were not something he wanted for his own children. When Robin was first successful in Hollywood, he fully embraced the lifestyle and was driven towards success while also fully engaging in the hedonism of that life including excessive drinking and drugs. This was certainly not the conservative world he grew up in, but there was an inherent selfishness to it that Robin was well aware of.  

Robin gave all that up when his son Zac was born, and he was able to stay clean for decades as he shifted his focus to being a parent and spending time with his wife and son. Robin talked often about the importance of time with his family but also suffered from a lot of guilt when his first two marriages dissolved. His sex scandal with Michelle-Tish Carter (where she alleged he gave her Herpes) was hugely embarrassing to Robin as well as his wife and son, and his actions were far from embracing the “traditional values” he was raised within his own nuclear family. 

Robin’s second marriage to his son’s former nanny was also a large public scandal that the press made a great deal of sport of, and Robin was always quick to defined his new wife when accusations were launched against her. Robin discussed how he drew on his own guilt as a divorced father in his role in the movie Mrs. Doubtfire, and there are a number of moments of vulnerability in that movie that went beyond far beyond Robin’s traditional comic mentality. 

Despite his own ongoing challenges with fidelity in his marriages, Robin always placed a great deal of value on spending time with his children, as he did not want to repeat that patterns he himself grew up with. His daughter Zelda’s heartwarming tribute to him following his death spoke to his commitment to his children and this was one family value he worked hard to reverse in his own life with his family. 

Perspective on the World perceived through Experience of Psychological Birth Order 

Although Robin had two older half-brothers, psychologically he was clearly an only child. Only children often mature faster than children raised in large families, and this is fascinating to consider in the life of Robin Williams. He was a grown-up and mature child in his early years, and was quiet and serious in many social situations.

Personality is largely shaped in these early years and it is, therefore, useful to consider the roots of Robin’s true personality. Whoopi Goldberg, who worked closely with Robin on all of the Comic Relief specials described him as quiet and shy, and how the character he was most like was the shy and socially awkward Dr. Malcom Sayer in the movie Awakenings.

How in the world do we make sense of this given Robin’s manic public persona? In looking through a number of interviews with his friends and family over the years, it was often mentioned that Robin was much quieter and serious in his personal interactions with the people he trusted most. So which was the real Robin?

In attempting to answer this question, it is interesting to examine his interview on Inside the Actor’s Studio with James Lipton in 2001. This show gives actors a chance to examine their lives, choices, and careers in a way that sheds more insight into what exactly makes them tick as an actor. Robin repeatedly launched into his manic routines during this interview, and would often deflect serious questions with extended comic routines. 

It therefore seems likely that Robin used his comedy to avoid serious discussion and questions. He rarely gave a serious interview, and seemed to launch into his routines as a way of meeting the expectations of his fans and people’s perception of him. The fact that those that knew him best repeatedly spoke about his more serious side indicates this may have been closer to his “core” personality seems likely. 

On a personal note, I always found his serious performances in pieces such as Good Will Hunting and Awakenings much more interesting than his comedic roles. They indicated a depth and a hard-earned sense of wisdom that weren’t always apparent in his other films. One does not play roles like that so exquisitely without possessing a great deal of inner complexity and personal gravitas. It simply doesn't work when the wrong actors try. 

Openings for advancement perceived through environmental opportunities

It is impossible to understand Robin Williams without also evaluating and understanding the social context he came of age in. Although he originally came from a stuffy and conservative world of prep schools and affluence in Detroit, the family moved to the Bay Area when Robin was 16. Robin began responding to the world around him much differently following the family’s move to this much more liberal world.

Robin himself reported these were the first years he ever began to see himself as “funny.” He reported that the school system in California was much looser than he was previously used to, and how this freedom in his environment also allowed him to explore his personal freedoms as a comic and an actor. This formerly serious child went on to be voted ‘funniest” by his  classmates when he did finally graduate from High School.

Robin also began performing stand-up comedy in San Francisco, when social mores were changing and comedy was booming as a response to these changes. Robin was able to explore themes such as sex, drugs, and politics in in his early comic work, as his early career coincided with the Civil Rights and Women’s movements, as well as a kind of counterculture that Robin’s recklessness seemed to appeal to. 

Robin’s abuse of drugs and alcohol was also in keeping with the norms of the entertainment business in the 70’s and 80’s. Cocaine was becoming especially popular during this era, and Robin’s embrace of the drug led to problems with dependency and addiction. Perhaps because these drugs were so widely accepted, those that truly had addictions were not truly recognized for the serious problems they had. When Robin did cocaine with John Belushi several hours before he died, it was a wake-up call for him that forced him to examine some of his own demons and personal addictions.

In thinking about Robin and his addictions, it is important to consider the possibility that Robin had an addictive personality. Robin’s early problems were cocaine were well documented, but he was able to beat this addiction for a very long time following the birth of his son. With alcohol, he was able to stay clean for decades, but it was something he returned to in his later life as a response to boredom and frustration. His sexual indiscretions and marriages appeared to indicate a high need for novelty and stimulation with regard to women and sexuality. Even comedy itself was a kind of addiction for Robin, as he would often perform late at night as a way of working out personal stressors and demons. 

Robin also had a number of “positive” addictions in his life, including cycling and video games, which both took up a great deal of his time during his periods of sobriety. William Glasser’s seminal book Positive Addictions discusses how people with addictive personalities might replace formerly destructive habits with healthier choices, and Robin’s choices seemed consistent with this idea. 

Range of Social Interest perceived through Other Particularities

One important measure of a person’s mental health is their interest and involvement in the lives of their fellow human beings. Using this measure, it is clear that Robin Williams was a generous, compassionate and caring person. The man gave a lot throughout his life, often without much personal fanfare. 

There are a number of different examples of Robin’s generosity. In 1986 he joined forces with Bob Zmuda, Billy Crystal, and Whoopi Goldberg to perform in Comic Relief, which would eventually raise 80 million dollars to help the homeless around the world. Given Robin came from relative affluence, he was always sensitive to the plight of those less fortunate than him. 

Robin also had a tremendous commitment to honoring soldiers and other men and women in uniform. Robin was an active member of the USO, which entertains troops around the world, and he performed for approximately 100,000 service people in 13 countries as a demonstration of his commitment to this cause. 

Robin also was heavily involved with St. Jude’s Children’s research hospital for many years. Much like his character “Patch Adams”, he spent time visiting sick children and donating money to their care and treatment. Robin had a tremendous interest in the care and welfare of vulnerable children.

Robin also had a great deal of time for his fans throughout his career, which was not always the case with A-list celebrities of his caliber. The thousands of fans who had personal encounters with him almost always described him as warm and unpretentious, and he seemed to have a genuine social interest in leaving his fans with some kind of memory. His statement that  “I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy because they know what it’s like to feel absolutely worthless and they don’t want anyone else to feel like that,” therefore seems prophetic. Robin seemed to have a true compassion for the suffering of others. 

Conclusion

“A man goes to a doctor. Says he's depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. The Doctor says, Treatment is simple. The great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up. The man bursts into tears. Says, "But doctor...I am Pagliacci.”

When Robin Williams died, tributes rolled in from all over the world. Many of them simply discussed how much his work meant to them. Others lamented the enormity of the loss. But it was this one from his friend and fellow comic Patton Oswalt that I was personally most drawn to. 

"But doctor, I AM Pagliacci." That's the only way this makes sense. Can't stand thinking of him being that sad. #RIPRobinWilliams

This is an interesting tribute coming from a friend and fellow comic. Although Robin’s wife would later provide further medical clarification as to the challenges Robin faced, it is also important to consider his nearly lifelong battles with depression. Robin’s manic and frenzied defenses, his lifelong struggles with addictions, and his own reflections on mental health, all indicate a more complex world that may initially meets the eye.

In examining the complexity of this inner world, it is important to start with Robin’s lonely and isolated childhood. What are the lifetime effects of such loneliness on a person’s psyche, and how might they influence a person’s future relationships and attachments? Although Robin had an intense love affair with the world, perhaps only a handful of people ever really knew the real Robin.

It is also interesting to consider the idea of the “manic defense” as it relates to Robin and his approach to the world. Although his mania made him rich and famous, it may have also distanced people from getting to know that sad and lonely child behind the mask. Robin was wonderful in movies where he was able to slow it all down, and perhaps there was a connection between his work on the screen and his own personal relationships.

Considering Robin’s mania and his long history, many people have speculated if it was possible he suffered from Bipolar disorder. At first glance, this certainly seems like a possibility as his mood swings could be rather intense. Bipolar disorder is a much different condition than a depressive disorder, and it is perhaps worth exploring the likelihood he suffered from this condition. 

The hallmark of this disorder is demonstrated by mood swings ranging from extreme highs that might include days without sleep, heavy drug and alcohol use, and hypersexuality, followed by serious depressive episodes. Robin’s behavior certainly met these criteria at various times throughout his life. 

Robin’s friend Carrie Fisher recounted a conversation with Robin where he revealed to her he did not suffer from this condition, which was something she found hard to believe given his manic behavior and episodes of depression she observed over the decades they had known each other. It’s important to note that there does not appear to be any formal diagnosis of Robin suffering from this disorder, although his behavior and presentation seem to line up with the components of this condition rather accurately. 

It is, therefore, difficult to understand Robin’s suicide as being about any one thing. Although the onset of dementia must have been terrifying for Robin as he felt his mind slipping away from him, suicide is still extremely rare in these cases. On average, people live approximately eight years following the additional diagnosis of this disease. Perhaps the thought of this disease slowly taking away the rest of his mind and body was too terrifying a thought for Robin to continue to live with.

Regardless of his ending, Robin Williams was a gift to the world that will continue to shine long after he is gone. For many families that have come of age in the last 30 years, his movies are part of their cannon and traditions. On a personal note, his work in Good Will Hunting was the single best depiction of a psychologist I’ve ever wintessed on the screen, and something I’ve used in my work as a professor to demonstrate the importance of trust and empathy. 

Lao Tzu once wrote, “The flame that burns twice as bright burns half as long.” Although Robin was only on this earth for 63 years, his flame burned very brightly in these years we did get to watch him. The man gave a great deal of himself during this journey, and he will certainly go down as one of the legends of comedy as well as the larger screen.

The Power of the Origin Story (How everyday heroes are born)

Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.
Khalil Gibran


All his life he's been told
He'll be nothing when he's old
All the kicks and all the blows
He won't ever let it show

'Cause he's stronger than you know
A heart of steel starts to grow

When you've been fighting for it all your life
You've been struggling to make things right
That's how a superhero learns to fly
The Script- Superheroes
People really have to suffer before they risk doing what they love.
Chuck Palahniuk




In 1858 a child was born. He was a weak child, had asthma, bad eyes, and was unable to go to school with the other kids.



He was a major disappointment to his father.

As the story goes, his frustrated father pulled him aside and gave him a talk. The young boy recounted his father saying~

“Son you have the mind but you have not the body, and without the help of the body the mind cannot go as far as it should. I am giving you the tools, but it is up to you to make your body.”

The boy responded:


“I will make my body!”

The boy became a dedicated and persistent athlete, determined to push himself as far as he could go. He and his dad built a gym, and the boy became a boxer and a mountain climber.

After that, he became the youngest president in the history of the United States.


That boy was Teddy Roosevelt.



THAT is an origin story.


The more traditional versions of an origin story come from mythology and more recently even comic books. Think Batman watching his parents killed in front of him and vowing to avenge and fight crime, or King Arthur pulling a sword from a stone, which prophesized he would one day be king.





Those are all radical examples that are easy to remember. But the truth is we all have an “origin story” if we think long enough about it. Maybe ours seems pretty plain at first glance.


At first glance.


But many, many times in therapy I’ve heard stories of how people were bullied as kids and it always stuck with them. Or maybe they had a father that was impossible to please who they never felt good enough for. Maybe they were sick as kids and couldn’t play with the other kids as much as they liked.


But make no mistake. These stories shape us.


And not all these stories have happy endings. Sometimes the scars run so deep they affect our functioning many years later. We live our lives in fear. We don’t take risks. Maybe never really explore what we were capable of really doing.


But we can change this narrative of our paths when we begin to think about the difficult experiences from our past as part of a more powerful narrative.



Because great strength often comes from great pain. I know this to be true. I’ve seen the young woman who was sexually assaulted as a girl, grow up to be a tireless advocate for women. Seen the weak and bullied kid grow up to be a powerful athlete.


The quote from Chuck Palahniuk resonates a great deal with me, as it is a part of my own origin story.


In a few short years at the end of the 90’s, I went from a comedian to a saloon-keeper to a therapist and later a psychologist. People think that’s odd, and it really kind of is. Two things happened in those years that were significant. First, the comedian Chris Farley passed away a few short blocks from where I lived. I had emulated him in a lot of ways. A while later my dad died, (he was also a saloon-keeper and a seriously funny guy).


I realized a lot of people I had admired had been funny guys who died young or died under tragic circumstances.


So I decided to be a psychologist who would write about comedians. While doing so, I discovered that I also used humor, (and alcohol) to cover up early scars from bullying and feeling left out. It’s a classic pattern many comedians follow.

Now I go on TV and talk about that all the time.


But I’ve still got plenty of leftover scars myself.


That’s the thing about an origin story. It contains both good and bad parts of our personalities, and may explain these dualistic pieces of our nature. Think Harvey Dent in Batman, who later became the criminal “Two-Face” when he was doused with acid in the courtroom. He flipped a coin in every situation to decide if he would follow the more positive or negative forces of his own personality.


And I think in a sense we all flip this metaphorical coin in our lives. We can choose to look at the tragic events of our pasts and adopt a “victim” stance towards the world, where we assume we will always be a victim of fate and circumstance. Or we can use our painful experiences to create something meaningful for ourselves and others.

Here’s an example.

A young teenager has a daughter out of wedlock and raises the child in the ghetto of Milwaukee. Unable to care for her, she ships the child to live with her father. At the age of nine, this child is raped by a cousin and then other family members. At 14 she becomes pregnant, and seems destined to repeat the cycle of teenage pregnancy and poverty.


But she loses the baby and decides to turn her life around instead. Unable to find appropriate role models in her life, she “adopts” the writer Maya Angelou and takes solace in her novel about a girl who survives her own sexual abuse called “I know why the caged bird sings.”



She later will open up a school of her own in South Africa for at-risk girls.


And become perhaps the most influential woman in the world


And if you haven’t guessed it, that little girl was Oprah Winfrey. She drew on the pain of her early experiences to develop an empathy and honesty that would resonate around the globe.





I realize people see examples like these and think they are kind of extreme. Maybe your life hasn’t been that dramatic, and you wonder how this might apply to you. But I think we can all benefit from assessing the painful experiences from our pasts and how they shaped who we are today. By understanding these forces, we can recognize patterns in our lives and learn to quit repeating the same mistakes.


And maybe in some cases, we can even use those painful experiences as a kind of transformation that helps us serve others who are going through the same things. Many of my favorite people have stories like these. Virtually every person I’ve met in the helping professions has an origin story. But they weren’t always like that. At one point they went through some kind of painful experience and vowed to use this to rebuild themselves and be of service to others.



That’s how a superhero learns to fly.