For this blog post,
I had originally planned a heartfelt remembrance to Robin Williams, detailing
everything he’d done and what it meant to me.
I’d even gone so far as to write the vast majority of it. The problem was, nothing I could say
accurately portrayed what he meant to so many of us. Sometimes even words fail. So all I can say is this:
Mr. Williams, you
will be missed. The darkness seemed to stay at bay a little bit longer
with you here among us. You were proof that we could be more than we
seemed. That we should always cherish the kid inside us, no matter our
age. That just a number. You’re only as old as you feel. Your humor guided us through good times and
bad. Goodbye and rest in peace.
It's imperfect and
I accept that. My deepest sympathies go out to those who knew him
best—his friends and family. Thank you
for sharing this man with us.
But, all things considered, there’s one thing left to say. Robin
Williams, comedic genius that he was,
suffered from depression. It seems impossible that someone who brought
such happiness to others could suffer from such a debilitating illness.
But it only goes to prove the opposite. ANYONE can suffer from depression.
NO ONE is immune. And we cannot act like it can be locked away in a
corner and never spoken about. That’s the one way we can damn everyone.
I know plenty who
suffer from depression, both in private and in public. It's nothing to be
ashamed of. Talking can help. It may not be a solution, but it's a
start. Begin. Speak to your friends and family, to your loved ones.
They would rather have you here with them than be left with just a
memory. Someone out there cares.
Always.
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