My attic is dusty and has a plethora of junk in it. I must say it's a fun place to hang out and look at what's rolling around in my head. If you don't mind the dust, I'd love to have you.
The news of Robin Williams passing away hit many of us hard. We grew up with him, from Mork and Mindy, to Jumanji, to Popeye, to Mrs. Doubtfire, to Hook. I could go on and on. The man who made us laugh is now making us cry. It’s sad that depression is shrugged off like a foot cramp. “Get over it”, is often what those who suffer from depression hear. The funniest man in the world couldn’t “get over it”. He had wealth, fame, beautiful children, a wife who loved him dearly, and friends and fans that would’ve dropped everything they could to prevent this outcome.
It’s hard living with someone who is depressed. You never have the right words to say. No magical song, poem, or verse, can snap them out of it. Sometimes all they need is someone by their side, sometimes it’s more. What they don’t need is to be blown off or ignored because one doesn’t understand what the big deal is. And even though those of us left behind may feel like suicide is a selfish act, depression is not. Depression is not a choice. Robin Williams knew this and for years he tried. He may have won some battles, but he lost his war.
I will be praying for his wife, and children, and all those he left behind.
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Books, in all their variety, offer the human intellect the means whereby civilisation may be carried triumphantly forward. -Churchill
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