We need to talk about Robin Williams and mental health

I have a very distinct memory of being young and sitting in my mom's room, watching TV with her. I remember some celebrity death on the news making her put a hand to her chest and saying something akin to, "Oh my God, I loved them so much. I can't believe they're gone." And I wondered if there was something wrong with me that I knew this actor and his death didn't really affect me. It sparked a brief conversation with us, wherein I said the one actor whose death would really sadden me was Robin Williams.

I was a kid at the time, so the movies he was making in the 90's greatly appealed to me. Hook, Jumanji, Aladdin, Mrs. Doubtfire...I watched them all again and again. I had a pair of Aladdin velcro shoes that I refused to get rid of now matter how dingy they got because the Genie was on them and he was my favorite. Robin Williams wasn't some heartthrob that I thought I'd grow up and marry some day, but he was this amazing presence who I couldn't take my eyes off of when he came on screen. He had so much energy and charm.

Then as I got older, I began watching his more serious roles (Good Will Hunting, One Hour Photo, What Dreams May Come) and was blown away that such a funny guy could give such an incredibly sincere and serious performance. I had a similar sensation when I first watched The Truman Show with Jim Carrey and was amazed that this goofy pet detective could actually act and not just act crazy on screen.

All of the gushing being said, I haven't seen a single person who did not enjoy at least a few of Williams' movies growing up. My Tumblr dash is full of posts mourning the loss of him, and so is my Facebook feed. I've seen many other actors come and go and some have made me sad, but not like this. I'm almost grateful there are movies of his I haven't yet seen so maybe I can go on pretending he's still around for awhile as I watch them. The world has truly suffered a great loss...and what makes this all the more heartbreaking is the way he died.

"He seemed so happy."

Yes, he did, didn't he? People who knew him say he was a kind and sensitive man and I'd believe it. The impression I've always gotten from seeing him in interviews was that he simply lived to make people around him smile and laugh.

So it doesn't surprise me that he, himself, suffered from bipolar and depression.

This is sparking many conversations, especially in the writing world: What is it about creative people that makes us prone to such depression and other mental health problems?

The best answer I've seen is that...it doesn't. It's the other way around. Perhaps we're creative because we suffer these things.

I can say from personal experience, as someone who has battled depression since I was a child, that there are periods of years that I have a very difficult time remembering. I don't remember my teachers or what I did with my friends. I don't remember holidays or family outings no matter how hard I  try. That's the fog of depression. Yet, I can remember every story I wrote, every sketchbook I had, every character I created because it was my escape from those feelings.

I also know that when I'm feeling low I stress myself sick trying to make everyone around me happy. Because I don't want them to be as miserable as I am.

Yesterday we also lost a newborn kitten we were trying to take care of, and my wife was devastated. I cried my eyes out--in part because I was also sad, but largely because I've been in a depression lately and this felt like the last straw. I couldn't even keep a kitten alive to make her happy. I couldn't save him. And I couldn't sleep until heavily sedating myself because I kept replaying in my head all the things I could've done differently that might have given us a different outcome. I feel like I let her down and it only confirms the negative feelings I have about myself.

So it doesn't at all surprise me that someone like Robin Williams worked so hard to make others happy while suffering himself. It saddens me greatly he did not have help. Or if he did--it was not enough. No one deserves to be pushed to that edge, especially not someone who made a living bringing so much joy to others.

I beg all of you--whether you suffer from depression or not--to listen. To watch for the signs. Because often the most depressed people don't know how to ask for help. We think we're a burden and we aren't worth it. We think we're ungrateful little shits because others have it worse, and so we hang our heads and we drag our feet and try to act normal so we aren't an inconvenience to anyone else. And that isn't right.

If you're sad, talk to someone. If you're thinking about hurting yourself, please, please talk to someone. Keep talking until you find someone to listen. You are important, and you are worth it. You don't have to be an actor or a comedian or a musician or whatever. You being you is enough. The world isn't ready to lose you.