on the death of Robin Williams

Here's a conversation I've had lately with many people:

Others: Paul, you've lost so much weight, how are you doing it?

Me: Poverty, mental illness, and exercise. Sure, two out of three aren't that good but I have lost over 180 pounds.

As regular readers of this blog know, I suffer from Type II Bi-Polar Disorder. In short, when not properly medicated, I suffer from strong depression with times when I become obsessively focused on matters or engage in risky behaviors. For me, risky behaviors have taken the shape of alcohol abuse (that ended in my early 30's more than 20 years ago) or using humor in situations that is not proper.

That came to a head last November when I considered living out a line from the Supertramp song Goodbye Stranger, "Feel no sorrow, feel no shame, come tomorrow feel no pain." Suicide has that going for it--the end of today's pain.

I can't say I understand what made Mr. Williams do what he did. This I do understand, when there is too much pain, suicide seems like the only way out.

It must have made some sense to Megan when she did it. It must have made sense to Sandy when she did it. It sure made sense to Carlos when he disconnected his feeding tube--dying that way rather than from AIDS in 1988. A permanent solution to a temporary situation? Well, not to Carlos, not in 1988. But in the middle of that situation, after years of being in the middle of that situation, it makes a certain sense.

As for the number of comics who have gone before Robin Williams--Chris Farley, John Belushi, Lenny Bruce, Socrates--all lived on that razor's edge and died tragically. All were incredibly smart and used an incredible sense of humor to overcome what they thought were their own personal deficiencies.

As for me, I'm just glad I've got good medications for the Bi-Polar disorder and the dog to get exercise. As for poverty, well, that's a story for another day and the lives of Williams, Farley, Belushi and the rest show that fame and wealth don't equate to happiness and mental health. But that's another post.

Ending this, I loved Robin Williams. My favorite memory of him was on the Dennis Miller Show on HBO when Miller was still funny. Miller's monologue was great that night then Williams came out.  That's when the whole show came off the rails. Robin Williams was outrageously funny. He finally asked Miller if he wanted to ask more questions and Miller said something to the effect that there was no way he was going to stop what was happening. It was the fourth episode and it was magic. Pure magic.

I'll miss the humor. I'll miss the wit. I'll miss the brilliance of the connections he made to create and weave a tapestry of wonder and love with humor. I knew it masked pain. I knew it from his life. I knew it from his biography. I knew it from his addictions. I knew it from my life. But still, the wonder is now gone, but it's not lost.

Via con Dios.