I think my biggest fear is that dying will be the end. Just nothing. That everyone that has died so far is no where. They are just gone. They aren't looking down on us. They aren't in a better place, they are just in nothingness. I obsess over death and dying. I obsess over people around me dying. Every time Jason leaves to go anywhere...I always think that could be the last time I see him. I go over the entire scenario in my head. I've done this for years. The death of friends and loved ones haunt me. I want to believe that I will see them again. The thought of seeing my grandparents again has always been a comfort to me. It always felt like a sure thing.
I realize that this is a faith thing. That's something to address another day.
Robin Williams' death had a huge impact on me for some reason. I am devastated. It is like a close friend has died. I've cried a lot. I've spent hours on YouTube watching everything I could find that he was in. It was if I've beens studying him...to see if I could see something that would make me understand him more. Could we have been able to tell? Could I tell he was really depressed deep down?
To get to the point where living is just too painful. When you feel compelled to make yourself disappear. When the thoughts of friends and family aren't enough to keep you here. When depression has completely taken over and you are left with no other option but to free yourself from it. When it is no longer a choice. That is what I focused on. That breaks my heart. And I am selfish for wanting him to continue his life that way.
On the Tuesday morning, the morning after he died, I woke up early to watch The Today Show. It was dedicated to him. Zoë crawled in bed with me just as it started. I had tears falling down my face.
Z- Did he die?
-He was horribly sad. When that happens, it's just too much and you can't be here anymore.
-Is he sad now?
-Then why are you sad?
Geesh. So true. We are selfish...the ones left behind. In this situation at least. He was in pain, now he's not...but I don't care. I want him to be here still. I want someone to help him. The other thing I struggle with is whether or not he was ever happy in his life. If you get to the point where you have to die to escape the pain--it seems as if your mind and body could take no more. As if you've been struggling for so long, it has to end.
I began to feel really strange. Why is this affecting me so much? I didn't know him. He was a famous person. Other famous people have died and it didn't affect me like this. (Princess Diana's death is the closest to this one.) One reason, I think, is that he reminds me so much of my grandpa. His arms and hands. His mouth and the way he laughs...identical. The way he walks. Watching him in movies, I always felt comforted seeing those things. Unhealthy, maybe. But somehow I melded the two together.
But also because he always made me laugh. He was the sure thing. He was just happiness. He was kind. He was "always happy" and it was comforting. He was always a comforting presence...bring back those feelings of childhood and being around grandpa. I'm not sure I will fully understand the impact, but I guess it doesn't matter. I feel the way I feel. And it has conjured up so many emotions and thoughts. It stirred up a lot of sadness. It was like a release to sit and watch him and cry. A switch was flipped.
And I couldn't tell Jason. I couldn't really tell anyone. Well, my friend Ronda seemed to understand the most. I told some friends and they were very sweet to listen...but Ronda seemed to GET it. Suicide and everything that surrounds it haunts me. It scares me. It makes me feel hopeless and powerless. The love of family and friends isn't enough. The amazing place the world is...wasn't enough. The money and the fame--is never enough. It seems as if has been programmed and it is inevitable in some cases. James Taylor said that Robin's death was inevitable. I read that 2 weeks ago and wanted to understand why he said that.
Last night I read the Rolling Stone article about him. I will say that after reading it, I understand why he said it. If you put together all of the instances where people saw his depth of sadness, his way of deflecting and redirecting, his inability to stay present when asked difficult questions, his lonely childhood, his emotional breakdowns coupled with fits of performing...and performing as if it was something he HAD to do in order to get through the moments. All if it...this person was hiding. He hid in whatever he could find. Making people laugh...that seemed to be a drug. Drugs were a hiding place. He distracted himself with affairs early on. He distracted himself by riding his bike. Taking off and riding past it all...not having to be present with someone...not feeling he had to perform in order to be in control of the situation...ugh.
Do I believe his pain is gone? Yes.
Do I know where he is? No. But I want to believe I'll be in the same place one day.
I want to believe that I will be with my children forever in a way. The thought of dying and that's just it...it's too much to bare.
The whole thing has taken over my mind. Now I have to dive in and figure out why THAT is. It makes me feel extremely alone.