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

love, joy, and laughter. Every day I am seeing stories of such kindness and generosity he showed others. With all that he has left behind he will only continue to spread that laughter through generation after generation. Hopefully now too he has left us with a better understanding of those suffering with depression or any form of mental health. Let him rest now, he does not need to battle anymore.

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

Tweet