Robin Williams died. He died by his own hands; his own decision.
He had everything at his disposal. Fame, money, family, accolades…. the works.
He also had depression. And apparently depression had a greater hold on him than everything else.
I might have a unique insight into his frame of mind. You see I have battled depression. It is some of my earliest memories in fact. When I became a mom for the second time I battled postpartum depression and my poor husband had to wade the waters of emotional tidal waves like a very skilled surfer.
Depression is debilitating. Depression is isolating. Depression is like the epic battle of David and Goliath, and the only people who get out alive are the fortunate ones with a skilled hand and a rock.
Hollywood takes sensitive souls and lifts them to the highest of highs only to release their golden hands at a moments notice when you are no longer useful to them. One of my drama coaches once infamously stated to our class that “Remember this is SHOW BUSINESS. SHOW+BUSINESS. If you aren’t ready for both then you aren’t ready”. It makes complete sense. Those who are sensitive and talented enough to reach the pinnacles of standard success are usually the ones who are the most susceptible to the demons that lay dormant within. To find the talent you must reach inside the depths of your soul to find the pain, to find the joy, to find the profoundness of the human spirit.
This isn’t the first star to fall by his own choices. Just do a quick internet search and you will find a plethora of starlets who were desperate for more more more to fill the big gapping hole in their soul. Many lost the battle. But there are many more still alive and still fighting the hostility of Hollywood.
I don’t agree with Robin Williams decision to do what he did.
But I get it.
In the darkness of night a frightening voice calls from within to end it all. And sometimes the hurting respond to the call.
No matter how much money, how much fame, how much excess you have, it doesn’t stop the demon in your head whispering untruths in your delicate ear.
And I truly believe that it is by the Grace of God that saves the lost. I know He did me. And it breaks my fragile heart that not everyone grabs ahold of the life raft that Jesus throws down to us.
Perhaps its because its already mid August, which means summer is nearly over. Perhaps its because Music Man is diving back into work with gusto. Perhaps its due to the gloomy rainy day.
Whatever the reason, I’ve been feeling homesick lately.
I have been battling this nagging feeling for a while now. I realize that what I’m feeling isn’t so much of missing a particular place on the map, but the feeling I get when I’m home.
Here in Minnesota, we are still getting established. This takes time (obviously), but its the process that is tiring. Putting yourself out there. Putting on your happy and brave face even though your nervous and shy. Feeling like your constantly on a first date. Wondering “hey do you like me?” or “am I getting annoying the way I often feel like I’m annoying other people?” or “I like you want to be friends?“. I mean you might as well put me in coke bottle glasses and give me a lisp I feel so out of place.
I miss familiarity. I miss my friends who already know me and love me despite my glaring flaws. The ones I don’t have to feel like I have to impress. I am not a fan of small talk. I like being in a relationship and already being into the heart of it all. Plop me down in the middle of a friendship where we already know the backstory and are talking about our bad day over our vat of coffee and smeared mascara that we hadn’t wiped off from the night before without the feeling of judgement. I want to be laughing at the insanity that only other harried mothers know. That’s the place I want to be.
I miss the quantity of friends in California. If someone is busy (which many of them are), no worries, there are other friends that might be interested in getting together. Here, I only know a handful of people. This is a small town, so there aren’t that many people, and again, we are just getting going here in our lives as a midwestern family. But with those few friends, you can quickly feel like you have worn out your welcome.
I miss the local restaurants I used to haunt. I miss the ease of shopping my favorite stores. A local Trader Joe’s is a 45 minute jaunt into the city here in Minnesota, but in California it is a mere 5 minute drive. I miss the happy smily customer service that my California workers give me, rather than the stoic midwest seriousness that happens on a Target run.
Don’t misunderstand me. Everybody has been wonderful here and going above and beyond in trying to make us all feel welcome, but sometimes the trial of putting yourself out there again and again is exhausting. And right now I’m a bit tired.
So here I am nearing the end of my pregnancy and I have been dealing with many emotional rollercoasters.
Since this is my second pregnancy, I’m really mourning the fact that it won’t be just me and Bradyn anymore. I mean this is my baby. My sweet little girl who I love to see her smile and hear her laugh. Once this new baby comes, our dynamic changes. I know it will be ok, but it still hurts. I never knew it could hurt this bad.
I’m really really really struggling with the fact that I may actually have *gasp* a boy. I know for many of you, that would be your preference or you can’t imagine what your life would be like without your sweet little son. But for me, whose sister tragically passed away too early in life and left me an only child, a sister is something that I yearn for to this day. I see other people who have sisters, especially ones they are close to and part of me weeps inside knowing I’ll never have that. I want that so desperately for my little girl. Even typing this out makes me want to cry, but considering my eyes still burn from crying earlier, I’m going to resist the hormonal urge and move on to my next rollercoaster.
Good news: Jeff got another job, which is fantastic. However, here’s the Bad News: This puts him about an hour and half away from me this week and possibly next. Um, don’t know if anybody realizes this but my due date is Jan. 25. People! That’s NEXT TUESDAY! Which realistically means I can GO INTO LABOR AT ANY TIME. So it sort of terrifies me that he will be stuck in traffic while I have to call someone to take me to the hospital while I have my baby without him. Now I highly doubt this scenario, BUT….. it could happen.
And this brings me to another pin in my side. I saw my doctor on Tuesday and he said that I was at station +1 and that I am so far from giving birth. This sent me into an emotional tailspin. Nobody wants to hear “Hey, you know how you have been mostly miserable in your own body for what seems like an eternity? Well hon, your going to have to endure it longer than you want to.” NOT what you want to hear. The upside is that Jeff and I have been able to conquer some of our long overdue house hold projects. Its always nice to get things done. Now if only I could have this pregnancy done…..
I apologize for the emo-ness of this post. I have a lot to be thankful for but I just can’t seem to get out of this funk. I have more issues that I’m struggling with, but I think I’ll leave that for another post.
I know I should focus on this new bundle of joy that I’m about to be given. I think it will really hit me once this new babycakes is placed in my awaiting arms.