Tag: Robin Williams

Five years public: A reflection and a request

It’s Sunday evening as I type this, and it is a beautiful night. And, as Facebook was kind enough to remind me, it’s also a sad anniversary: Today, five years ago, we lost Robin Williams to suicide.

William’s suicide inspired a slew of memorials, sadness and outpourings of grief. It also reinvigorated a conversation about mental illness in American society that desperately needed to happen – and now, needs to continue. Williams had always struggled with mental illness and addiction, and had always been very open about his pain. Now, the extent of his demons were laid bare for all to see.

I was letting my dog out in the backyard when my wife texted me the news of William’s death and suicide. And it hit me hard. As I’ve said repeatedly, if a man like Robin William’s could lose his battle, what hope did I have?

Then, while scrolling through a Facebook status, this comment, from someone I defriended on the spot: “So sad Robin Williams committed suicide. He just needed more faith in Jesus!”

That comment crystallized it for me: People really were this dumb about mental illness.

And that resulted in this Op-Ed in the Allentown Morning Call, by State Representative Mike Schlossberg: Reflections on a Personal Journey with Depression.

From the op-ed, words I had never said publicly before:

It was October 2001 when I began my journey with depression. A freshman at Muhlenberg College, I had been sad before, but never like this. It was a hopelessness that felt like a black cloud smothering everything I did.

It felt like my future was a wall — that there would never be any brighter days. I didn’t know I was suffering from depression at the time, but I do remember I couldn’t see any hope. The words of friends and parents were largely irrelevant, and I didn’t understand how I would ever feel OK again. After suffering through that blackness for many weeks and months, I began to contemplate if suicide wasn’t the better option.

Monday’s tragic suicide of Robin Williams has left millions of Americans baffled. How could a man of such talent, humor and power choose to end his own life? The sad and tragic truth is that mental illness, depression and suicide know no boundaries.

My path to recovery began with Rick at the Muhlenberg College counseling center, who helped teach me how to change my thinking, cope with the stress of a new school and how to deal with a breakup with my girlfriend from New Jersey.

When it became clear words weren’t enough and the anxiety attacks began getting stronger, he recommended me to a psychiatrist, who put me on an anti-depressant and anti-anxiety pill, which I still take to this day. I type these words without any shame. Why would I be ashamed? Are any of you embarrassed to be taking Lipitor for your cholesterol or Prilosec for your heartburn?

My point is this: Millions of Americans suffer from mental illness, and millions recover. There is no shame in saying you are depressed, you are anxious, and you need help.

There are many real tragedies which flowed from Robin Williams’ death. First and foremost is the human one: A husband, father, artist and inspiration left us way too soon. But it can’t be forgotten that William’s death likely caused others to end their lives as well, as a direct result of the suicide contagion effect. One study attributed as many as potentially 2,000 suicides to William’s public suicide. This heaps unmitigated pain on a nightmare.

What studies like this don’t quantify is how many others, like me, chose to go public in the aftermath of William’s suicide. I was one of many, many people to do so – and I can’t imagine the collective, positive impact that all of us combined have made. Nothing occurs in isolation. My struggle and the hope that I hope I was able to inspire only came from William’s suicide.

So today, on this important five year anniversary for me, a request: Share your story, share your pain. It doesn’t require an op-ed or a Facebook status. But relieve yourself of the secret shame which may be surrounding you. It doesn’t have to be bottled up. If my experience as a public official has shown anything to me, it’s that the general public is much more understanding than I ever would have anticipated. Telling my story has improved my life in a million different ways, and many of them deeply personal.

Tell your story. Tell it loudly, proudly and publicly. Be part of the moment which saves someone else.

 

Suicide is never “gotta set myself free” – a letter to Epic Rap Battles and a discussion on how we talk about suicide

Sunday entry instead of a Monday one, but it’s an important and timely one.

If you are a nerd like me, and you’ve spent any time on YouTube, chances are you have come across Epic Rap Battles of History. They are a YouTube channel which hosts rap battles between historical or celebrity figures. They lampoon everyone, and they are so, so clever and funny. I’ve always loved them and get excited when they publish a new video.

Early this morning, they premiered their latest battle between George Carlin and Richard Pryor. The battle, as usual, was hilarious. This one featured guest appearances be Joan Rivers and Robin Williams. Williams appears last, and it’s his last line which causes the problem:

Again, that last verse:

“I love the prince
but you’ll never have a friend like me
Thanks folks that’s my time
Gotta set myself free”

And Williams disappears into the top of the screen.

That last line is clearly a reference to William’s suicide in August 2014. And that line is a huge problem. Suicide should never, ever be discussed as a freeing option, one which somehow frees people from the bonds of pain and life. Suicide is not an option. Discussing it as a positive thing frames it in a positive way, and that encourages others to look at suicide as if it should be considered.

Some of you may remember that this isn’t the first time that William’s suicide was displayed this exact way, using the same language (which is a reference to both the suicide itself and Genie’s desire to be free in Aladdin). After William’s suicide, The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences put out this tweet:

The tweet was criticized by suicide prevention activists. It made suicide appear celebratory, a victory over depression and pain, and a viable option for anyone who hurts. This can never, ever be the case.

From the article:

  • Christine Moutier, chief medical officer at the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention: “If it doesn’t cross the line, it comes very, very close to it. Suicide should never be presented as an option. That’s a formula for potential contagion.”
  • Ged Flynn, chief executive of the charity Papyrus: I am particularly concerned that use of the ‘Genie, you’re free’ tweet could be seen as validation for vulnerable young people that suicide is an option.”
  • Jane Powell, director of the support group Calm, “We all want Robin to be in a happier place but it’s not a good message for people feeling suicidal, because we want them to stay with us and not go find some starry night escape with genies,” she said.

This is needed largely because suicide contagions are real: After William’s suicide, suicides increased by 10%. And, as the study I linked to notes, media coverage of suicide can be critical to how the coverage of suicide influences suicidiality in others. There are media recommendations for how to cover suicide (I actually tweeted it yesterday, before this video, in reference to an ongoing situation in my home region which thankfully ended well).

One of the key recommendations is not to glamorize suicide or present it as an option. The media has failed that before: Epic Rap Battles failed it here. Do I think they did this on purpose? No, absolutely not. I think it’s an honest mistake. But I hope it’s one they correct.

Again, here are the facts:

  • In 2017, over 47,000 Americans took their own life. These are the highest rates of suicide since World War 2.
  • Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the United States, and the 2nd leading cause of death for 10-24 year-olds.
  • Suicide rates have increased 33% since 1999.

We have an epidemic, or, in the words of Congersswoman Susan Wild (D-PA), a national emergency. National emergencies require being addressed on all fronts. One of those is cultural and communication. No one with a platform over over fourteen million subscribers should make such a casual reference to suicide and describe it as “gotta set myself free.” I’m hoping this was unintentional. And I hope that ERB will consider changing the video.

And to everyone else: Please watch how you discuss suicide. Please take it seriously. And please use person-first language which ensures that we let people know they are loved and cared for, and that we never, ever, ever want them to “set themselves free.”

Finding light in the darkness

I’m going to write about two things that personally motivated me to deal with my own demons in a very public way. The short-term inspiration for this is me rereading the acknowledgements section of Redemption. The longer-term inspiration for this is a public tragedy and a low period in my life.

Okay, first, here’s a small section of the acknowledgements in Redemption:

To Robin Williams. Yours was a life well lived, and I hope to be part of a positive story of those influenced by how it ended.

Let me go backwards. Robin Williams completed suicide on August 11, 2014. He had long suffered from a slew of mental health challenges, including depression and substance abuse. However, Williams was suffering from “diffuse Lewy body dementia,” which ultimately contributed heavily to his suicide.

William’s suicide ultimately inspired me to go public with my story. That started when some idiot on Facebook decided to spout off shortly after Williams’ death by saying something along the lines of, “So sad Robin Williams committed suicide. He just needed to pray to Jesus more!”

No, you schmuck, that’s not how it works, and that ignorant comment got me so damn fired up that I wrote an op-ed in my local paper, detailing my own struggles with depression, anxiety and suicidal ideation. That, in turn, set my career in motion in a very different way, making me become much louder about mental health issues. I’ve spoken at events detailing my own struggles, cofounded a mental health caucus, appeared in PSAs and introduced legislation designed to help those who are suffering from mental health challenges. I know that the work I’ve done in this realm has helped people – and I know I have a lot more to do to help more.

It also inspired this speech, the most difficult one I have ever made:

Fast forward about seven or eight months, and I’m struggling, in the midst of one of the most depressed periods of my life. I’m struggling at work, my wife is struggling at work, and life just generally sucks at the moment. I go back to see my therapist. I increase my medication. And then I realize something else: I desperately need an outlet. Something to help get me through everything I am suffering from. I decide to start writing again – I wrote fiction as a kid and had published the non-fiction book I wrote, Tweets and Consequences.

And I remember this goofy plot idea I had as a kid, twenty years ago, about kids getting trapped on a spaceship. And I realize something: That’s not a bad plot. But what if I could make it more? What if I could fold in a mental health message as well?

And thus, Redemption is born.

For what it’s worth: I have a character named Robin in Redemption. In all fairness though, that’s also my daughter’s middle name, so let’s call that character’s naming a 50% tribute to Williams and 50% tribute to my daughter.

The death of Robin Williams helped me and countless others find their voice and seek help. I know that this may be cold comfort to those he loved and those who loved him. But I sincerely hope that they can take some solace in knowing that Williams’ life and death helped so many, including me. His was a life well lived – and, as I said above, I hope to be a small part of that story.

You can always find light in the darkness. Pain makes us great, and with time and therapy, you can turn the most agonizing periods of your own life into something incredible.

As long as you breathe, there is hope. The trick is just finding it sometimes.