Saturday, August 30, 2014
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Monday, August 18, 2014
Be Kind
I’ve read many articles since Robin
Williams sadly died, many people with many different viewpoints.
I feel like I have thought of nothing else
for the past few days trying to in some way make sense of it all. Though where
do you even begin to make sense of it or understand? I honestly have not been
able to keep him out of my thoughts. This funny guy on TV, this guy I have
never met only laughed and cried at as he made characters come to life.
One article in particular really struck
chord with me. (link here). Robin Williams didn’t die of suicide, he died of
depression.
Depression does not discriminate.
Depression doesn’t care if you are rich or poor, young or old. So many comments I have read are asking,
“What did he have to be depressed about?” Feeling sad for something you have or
don’t have for example is not how this disease works.
Depression is not what you say that you
feel when you chip a nail or your favourite TV show or book is finished. A
panic attack is not what happens when you can’t find your Oyster
Card/keys/phone or the Internet has gone down.
I have had first hand experience with depression
and anxiety. I have also had family members suffer with depression and anxiety.
A few years ago my dad died from cancer. It
was also around the same time we had just been told Andy had azoospermia and
that we would not have our own biological children (they shouldn’t have said
this to us at that stage but it is the information we were given my the
consultant at that stage). All in all it was a tough time. Watching my dad dying also opened up old
wounds of sitting with my beloved granddad as he was dying from cancer, telling
him it was ok to let go. I was 19 and I didn’t deal with it well at the time. I
dealt with that too really after my dad died. My point is I went to the doctors
at this time and said I’m having a tough time dealing with everything, I cant
sleep, I have no motivation, I feel so incredibly sad, I have no appetite etc. I
was expecting him to tell me I was depressed (due to prior experience many
years before this). He explained something to me that day that has resounded
through my head ever since. He said that in his opinion I wasn’t depressed.
Real, tangible, difficult things were happening/had happened and I was
processing them and dealing with them. He said that this was real and normal to
feel these things in circumstances like this. He told me that depression was
not like that, it was usually that you would feel these feelings but with no
tangible, logical explanation as to why. This made sense to me. I could
rationalize what I was feeling. I could “blame” it on something. I had an
“excuse” for feeling like this.
Maybe he was right in what he said, maybe
he was wrong. Maybe it was just what I needed to hear at that time?
This is around the time when my anxiety and
panic attacks started.
I saw a few doctors around this time for
various things and at some point I was offered some medication for
anxiety/depression though I declined owing to the fact that we were looking to
start our IVF procedures.
I had if I remember correctly 6 sessions of
counseling which I feel helped greatly. It just helped me to chat and talk
things over with someone who was non biased, who wouldn’t judge and who I could
just say what was in my head without fear or upsetting someone or worrying what
that person would think of me.
Though I knew my feelings at this time were
different to the depression I had been through before and the depression I had
witnessed others suffering.
The hardest part I personally found going
through depression was that I couldn’t rationalize it. I couldn’t make sense of
why I was feeling that way. When I had felt so so incredibly sad and low but I
just didn’t know why. When I just didn’t want to be. To be me. To exist. When I
felt like everyone would be better off without me. Then this turned into guilt
to which exacerbated all the other feelings. What right did I have to feel like
this when X was going through real tough times? What was wrong with me? Why
couldn’t I get a grip?
I guess I’m trying to tell my story because
I want people to know that it’s ok. It’s ok to talk. It’s ok to share. It does
not mean that you are weak
Fear of weakness and others perceptions. That
is something I really struggled with especially through the more recent times
with my anxiety and panic attacks. Those that knew especially colleagues at work
I didn’t want them to think I was weak, flakey, that I couldn’t cope. I didn’t want people to treat me differently,
to think that I couldn’t manage with the pressures of my job on top of the
anxiety/panic etc. I didn’t want their opinion of me to change. I will say it
again it DOES NOT mean you are weak. It just took me some time to figure that
out.
So I guess my own experience and exposure
to this disease is what is prompting me to think about it even more.
How dare anyone sit in judgment over the tragic
decision that Robin Williams made to take his life. You have not walked in his shoes. You have
not lived one hour or one day inside his head. You have no idea what he was
feeling when he decided…… When he decided what? That the world would be better without
him? That he couldn’t live in this world anymore or couldn’t live in his world
anymore. That he didn’t want to burden his family and cause them any more
heartache as he was battling the disease? I don’t know what he was feeling but
one thing I feel very sure of….. To make that decision to take his life to that
conclusion would have been the only conclusion he could foresee at that
time. People say, “Did he not think
about his children/his wife/ his family?” Maybe he did. Maybe he felt that they
would be better off without him. Maybe he didn’t think of them at all. Maybe he
was so consumed at this point that they weren’t even in his thoughts. Surely if you have reached that point through
this horrible illness all rational thinking has departed?
I know that I have reached a place in my
life now that I never would have dared to believe I would be. I do have
everything I could have dreamt of and more besides. Does this keep the black
dog far from my door? Honestly? No.
I have some days where I can feel black dog
Depression chasing me. I have some days where for no particular reason my heart
is pounding 10 to the dozen and I am teetering on the precipice of a panic
attack. I have days and sleepless nights where I will lay there and
catastrophise every worry in my mind to the point that I’m actually living it
out in vivid Technicolor the worse case scenario in my head.
I become consumed that something will
happen to my beautiful Gracie and Alfie, to my husband, to my mum, my brothers.
I convince myself that Andy will leave us. All of these thoughts irrational and
with no basis yet I still run them around and around in my head. Obviously I’m keeping all of these feelings
in check but if I find they are getting out of hand or disrupting my daily life
then of course I will seek appropriate help. Having been there before I know
what is manageable and when I need help.
Something else that concerns me is that
probably most days through my various social media networks I see people who in
my opinion clearly are depressed and could clearly do with some help. Every time
I want to say something to them to help them and yet I stop myself. I don’t
want to upset them. It’s not my place. They will think I am being rude. So I
have been thinking about this. If any of these particular people had a lump
would it be rude or inappropriate of me to recommend they get it checked? If
they had a rash would it be rude of me to suggest they see a doctor? These
people would be greatly offended at my suggestion that they had depression yet
would probably thank me for suggesting they seek help for the rash or the lump.
Lets be more open with our feelings. Lets
tell someone if we are feeling low. Lets tell someone if for reasons we cannot
justify we are feeling sad. Lets help without question, lend an ear, a shoulder
to cry on.
The tragic loss of Robin Williams is what
has brought all of this to the forefront of my mind and is what has pushed me
to sit and write this today. These are the thoughts that have been through my
mind over the past few days. I guess I’m making a bit of a mess at hashing all
of these thoughts together. I just want people to know that they are not alone,
that it’s ok to discuss it and to tell people about it. If we all spoke of this
disease it would become less taboo, others would speak of it too and it just
may help that person who thinks that the “done thing” is to keep these thoughts
to themselves, until maybe these thoughts consume them too. I also want to
provoke some thoughts from another perspective to deviate from the negative
aspersions cast towards this poor man and so many others whose lives came to
the same tragic end citing them as selfish and cowardly.
Depression IS AN ILLNESS! Depression MUST
be taken seriously. Depression does not mean you are a bit down in the dumps. It
is a very serious and very debilitating disease.
I say it again; he was suffering with an
illness, he was suffering with depression when he came to that conclusion. Did he plan it? Was it a spur of the moment
decision? Do you honestly think that if he was in the frame of mind to take his
own life that he was thinking with any such clarity and foresight to consider
who may find him or what would happen after? Surely at this point all you are
thinking about is that you just don’t want to be here anymore?
This is where I am really struggling to
write this. I feel like it is not my place to consider or question what
happened. I feel as if I am being disrespectful to him and his family to even
wonder what happened let alone to share these thoughts. I am not rehashing this
through some morbid curiosity or even just being nosey but because I am trying
to understand and again provoke thoughts and perspective from another angle in
response to the negativity I am seeing.
Did he want to be remembered for the man he
was and leave that legacy rather than fight another disease and was worried how
ill he would become through Parkinson’s Disease? Was he worried what both the
Depression and Parkinson’s would do to him and the effect it would have on his
family? Why was there no suicide note? Did he mean it to be so final? Cry for
help? Maybe there is a suicide note somewhere? You know, we will never know the
answer is simple…….it’s not our business to know.
Has he not been through enough battling
this debilitating disease? He has left a wonderful legacy of
For the most part all I am thinking of is
how this wonderful man still had the strength to bring joy and laughter to
millions when he was dying inside.
I’ll leave you with these:
“Be kind. For everyone you meet is fighting
a hard battle”
“People cry, not because they are weak. It’s
because they have been strong for too long”
“You don’t know what is going on in someone’s
life. Be kind”
“Always try to help someone. You may be the
only one who does”
What are your favourite inspirational
quotes?
Thank you for reading.
Love Chele
xx
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Thursday, August 14, 2014
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