Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Robin Williams: A Warrior Poet

It is a tragedy, that is the first thing.

I loved Robin Williams since I was a kid. First through Hook, Jumanji, Mrs. Doubtfire, Aladdin, and FernGully then as I got older through Dead Poets Society, Garp, The Fischer King, What Dreams May Come, and the ambitious but imperfect Being Human. Once I hit college Williams provided darker fare, equally interesting but startling coming from Williams- Insomnia, Death To Smoochy, One Hour Photo etc. He was an incredible comedic and dramatic talent with a vast filmography. He brought joy and inspiration to millions. There have been many moving tributes to the late comic each poignant, funny, elucidating his influence, and worth a read. That is the second thing.

I never met Robin Williams and I don't presume to understand him. But we shared an illness- alcoholism. I understand desperation and loneliness. Understand crippling depression. Worthlessness and fatigue and a need for oblivion. I've had suicidal thoughts, contemplated different methods, fantasized the feel of a gun against my temple. Felt like I've had no recourse, no option, no escape, no solution, been on a path with only one distinct outcome. I know what it is, I've been there. It is bleak.

Sometimes life can be too much, sometimes reaching out for help is too hard, sometimes you fight against the dark so long you have no fight left. Living life one day at a time is a constant battle. And sometimes the battle is lost. Most times there is no rhyme or reason, no logic. Nothing to explain or unravel. We can mourn and we can accept but we cannot answer why. That is the third thing.

A comedic soldier and brother alcoholic has fallen. His work and impact will never die.

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