Depression.

I know a lot of people won't want to talk about this, or they'll passive-agressively sympathize with the passing of a celebrity, but I'm profoundly impacted with the recent death of Robin Williams. As a very small child. I was so mesmerized with his performance in Toys that I re-watched that movie over 70 times. Once my Dad asked me why I had to rewatch it over and over, and I only had one answer for him, "It's like going to school!" I was about three or four, and that's my first real, vivid memory of my childhood ... movies. My Dad was a secret comedy buff, who was sort of sweetly airbrushed over to a cleaner, neater version by my Mother who was very particular about the types of humor that I was to be exposed to. The fact was, with Robin Williams now a figure-head in my realm of possibility I knew that comedy was limitless. I craved more!

With the outpouring, in the wake of such a sudden death it's sad to think that so many people still don't understand or sympathize with those people who suffer from debilitating depression. It doesn't help that about 60 to 70 percent of them also suffer from some form of addiction. These are treatable illnesses, but their manifestation varies from patient to patient and while there are resources, having the courage to seek treatment is still greatly stigmatized. In my family, depression runs rampant on both sides, and I've battled addiction most of my life to cope with inadequate care in regards to my own battles with the same affliction. Depression, especially in the US isn't talked about or addressed as often as it should be since considering it's the cornerstone of almost all illness that fall under this wide umbrella of clinically diagnosed depression.

Depression is a disease of loneliness, addiction, obsession, social anxiety, and inadequacy. In a world that sort of skims over actual fears, and disguises them as character flaws most are silent sufferers. Many people are born with them, a simple, small glitch in their DNA only to have it manifest some years later, or worse, in childhood when it's vastly misdiagnosed. The fact is, a depressed person experiences the most undervalued kind of suffering as their emotions ebb and flow like river rapids. After a few bumps, you're reminded that your life isn't that much harder than the next persons, but the disease still stands dormant there in your system. It quietly functions -- a missed night of sleep, pushing off reading that you used to enjoy, avoiding your reflection in the mirror, avoiding your family. This small amoeba of a one sad singular emotion, is quieted by life in the daylight hours but by night anesthetizes the clear thoughts that lull the normal people into a peaceful rest. Eventually it takes over the days, and then the weeks, and sometimes the years, until you're in a dark cave of your own design that carves a wide barrier between yourself in the rest of the world.

I'm not asking you to not be depressed, but simply talk about about it. It's so simple, but it could prevent something catastrophic like this from happening again. You do not have to suffer alone. You don't have to die to feel something, some sense of connection with another human being to relate your suffering so that they can understand it. Be empathetic with all people! Find out about them, and ask questions, and LISTEN to them. We only have the human race, we only have ourselves to take care of the other human beings and that is something neither the internet or a computer will fix. Take care of everyone around you, and pay attention. It could save someone's life.

xo,

C