Dare I approach this subject. I don't know, but I'm going to.
Last night it was announced to the world that Robin Williams took his life in an apparent suicide. Needless to say I was shocked. I always pictured him in my minds eye as a happy-go-lucky man with little worry. But what is seen by the public is far from accurate, as it has been revealed.
I have read many articles, blog posts and comments today about this man's death. His personal struggles, that I in my naïve way knew little of, were the demons that ultimately lead to him taking his own life.
But what do we say to someone struggling with depression? Why is it such a taboo subject to discuss? And why, in this day and age, do we refuse to acknowledge it's existence?
Robin Williams' death got me really thinking. Thinking about my own personal darkness. I have been there. I have been so deep in a pit that had it not been for a few things I would have chosen the path he chose. I have felt hopeless and I have felt the despair that can not be resolved.
Here is something many don't know about me. I have contemplated suicide. At nineteen I sat in my bathroom in college with a razor blade pointed at my wrists, ready to slice my arm up. I felt hopeless. I felt alone. I felt dark. And I felt like no one cared. I dealt with a lot of demons, and the therapist I saw at the time will never know just how much I am thankful for her. My roommate will never know just how close I was to laying waste to my life. They just won't be able to understand how hopeless I felt. It's real. It's an ugly place to be.
But that wasn't the last time I felt this way. Bless David. Truly, he was the reason I didn't go through with suicide the second time I considered it. He and Lucy gave me something to live for. I had lost a baby. I didn't feel like I could go on. My life was shattered. Again, I sat on the bathroom floor. Again I held a razor to my body. Again it was a choice I couldn't go through with.
It took great strength for me to find something to be hopeful for, but I did. I found hope when I thought all hope was lost. It was by the grace of God that I found this hope. He alone was who saved me. But I have been there, and it's ugly.
Let me just say that suicide is selfish. It doesn't just affect your life, it affects everyone around you. I knew this, but in spite of this I wanted to end my life. Life didn't seem worth living. But then I was blessed. I found balance in my life and fought down my demons. I faced the music and I took ownership over my choices.
This doesn't mean that I don't feel like a screw up sometimes, but I have hope. I have found my way out of the pit. I have found love through Christ and I have found hope in knowing he loves me, no matter how I feel about myself.
I don't care what you believe, but find something to live for. Maybe a pet, a friend, a child, anything really. Seek help. Do not find shame in seeking that help. And do not let anyone tell you that your depression is made up. It's not. It's a real disease and deserves to be treated as such.
