Rest in peace, Robin…

Along with the rest of the world this week, I was stunned and saddened to read of Robin Williams’ tragic suicide. I read the story in tears as I remembered all the times that Robin Williams had made me laugh…and the times he had moved me to tears. An amazingly gifted actor, he could portray any emotion – drama or comedy – and everything in between. I loved his movies and that quirky grin of his. He will be greatly missed. I miss him already. Rest in peace, Robin…

Sadly, this heartbreaking story reminds us that we never truly know what is in the heart and mind of another. We see the smiles that don’t quite reach the sad, dark eyes. We hear the response of “fine” when we ask “how are you?” And yet, they’re not fine. They’re hurting. The pain of depression is raw and deep – but invisible all the same. Unless you’re listening. Unless you are paying attention to the signs that are usually there. Depression can propel you to a valley so deep and dark, you feel there is no end to it…and no way out of it. Depression is many degrees beyond sadness. Depression is hopelessness and dark despair. Depression hurts…truly, truly hurts. I’ve been there. Many of you have been there. It helped that I am a strong believer and had my faith but the depression still hurt.

I spent ten years out of my long nursing career as a Child Psych RN, working with depressed, emotionally disturbed children. Some of that time was also spent working with adults. If you know someone who is clinically depressed, I can give you a few phrases NOT to say: “you shouldn’t feel this way!”…”oh, you’ll be fine”…”buck up and get over it”…”you have nothing to be depressed about”…”what’s wrong with you?”. There are other phrases, of course, but you get the idea.

You need to be there to listen, to care, to support, to get whatever help is needed. You need to provide nonjudgmental, unconditional love to the person who is in a pit so deep they cannot get out. Don’t leave them alone until you know they’re getting help! Deep clinical depression usually requires medication (antidepressants and maybe anti-anxiety medication), inpatient or outpatient therapy and ongoing counseling. In time, life will be better…just not overnight…and not without help.

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I know that Robin’s family and close friends are asking themselves what they could have done differently. How they could have stopped this tragic ending. They need our prayers now. We knew Robin from all the many faces and amazing characters he portrayed for us. They knew him as husband, father, brother, friend…

Can’t you just hear him saying, “GOOD MORNING, VIETNAM!”

Robin, I hope that you are at peace and that you’re making the angels laugh now!

His biographical story is here…

The past few months have been a challenge. I’ve been through enough changes in my life that I scored quite high on the “stress level” meter. I have fought to remain positive but, as you already know, that is sometimes beyond our reach. When I first arrived in the Midwest six months ago, I spent two months living with my daughter and her precious family (my grandchildren thought they’d hit the jackpot!). My belongings were stored floor to ceiling in her garage. Not one word of complaint from her or my son-in-love, an amazing young man.

When the worst of the depression hit months ago, I spent four days in an out-patient “depression class” which lasted all day long. (Remember I was a Psych nurse for ten years and believe in getting help when needed!) When my grandchildren asked where I went early each morning, my daughter simply said “she’s going to a depression class”. Each night at dinner, I had tales about who had joined the class that day (no names or details of course). One day, a beautiful young Sandra Bullock-look-alike joined the class. The next day it was Al Pacino’s double! On my last day, Dennis Hopper showed up (nevermind he had died by then). There was laughter at the dinner table and my grandchildren were so happy that Grandmom “graduated first in her class from depression school”! Their words – not mine! Mainly, they were glad I was home again during the day.

When the time came for me to move into my own apartment/condo, my grandchildren weren’t so sure they wanted to part with me. Thankfully, I’m only 14 minutes from them if I hit all the green lights just so. They love coming over here. They are my little kindred spirits. They can read me like a book. Especially my eight year old granddaughter. She searches my face for signs that I am fine. I may think that I am hiding tears or sadness from them, but they are not to be fooled. Thankfully, there are very few tears now and even though they don’t realize it – they remind me, once again, that I am strong. I am thankful for my daughter who is the biggest kindred spirit of all. I am thankful for the closeness and the memories we are making.

Spending time playing with grandchildren is the very best therapy in the world. Anytime I am at my daughter’s or they are here, there is an abundance of laughter. Laughter releases endorphins, the body’s natural painkiller, and makes anyone feel good…