I just have to put it out there.
I am horribly, terribly, inconsoleably torn up about Robin Williams' death.
There are no words to explain the profound sadness we all feel collectively.
He transends political lines, nationalities, religion, gender, race, and everything else that divides the human race.
I never met him, and yet it aches to know (1) that he was suffering all this time and (2) that he is now gone.
I hate, hate, hate that there are people out there who are in such a dark place, unable to escape the illness of depression, that leaving this world is their best answer. I hate depression and everthing that goes with it. So, I'll let you in on a little secret. When I pray for my children, I pray first for happiness, then health, then safety. "Lord please keep them happy, healthy and safe. Amen." Why? Because if you can maintain your joy, then life is worth fighting for. Of course, somehow this happiness is actually all tied up in health, so perhaps it doesn't matter what order they are listed. And, obviously, God knows what He is doing, whereas I'm just a mere mortal riding along on this cosmic merry-go-round.
For some odd reason, there came a time in my career (several times actually) where I had to conduct a search on the coroner's website. It was shocking when I first discovered that on average there is a suicide (locally) every day. Every. Single. Day.
I know many of you out there have experienced the effects of suicide, and all I can say is a heart-wrenching, gut-deep, "I'm so sorry." If only there was a font to convey the seriousness of my tone, the empathy of my voice, the sadness I feel for those left behind. It must absolutely be one of the hardest things to ever experience. And heaven forbid a parent have to face such a horrific event, although I know it happens all too often.
I want each of you to know that I love you. That I am here for you even in the darkest times. I mean, yeah, I know I'm on a damn blog, but I know you and you know what I mean. And, really, you know me. Darkness is very, very, very dark and very, very, very difficult to beat without help. I hope we will all take a moment to realize that the illnesses of the mind are as debilitating as the illnesses of the rest of the body.
Until then, I will cry along with the rest of the world everytime I read or hear, "O Captain, my Captain."