Robin Williams, and thoughts on suicide
Midnight, in the graveyard at Bruton Parish Church in Virginia |
This morning I awoke to the news that comedian Robin
Williams had killed himself, at 63. He’s
the latest of a long line of creative people to take his own life. Every time a performer or artist kills
himself I ask if this is an unavoidable hazard of the arts, or if something
might be done about it.
News sources say Williams was “wrestling with depression”
when he did himself in. I myself have
wrestled with depression, as have many people around me. The question of why some of us choose
suicide, successfully and without warning, is one that has yet to be answered.
Most of the people who commit suicide don’t announce their
intentions. Some research suggests they
may not even have such intentions until the fateful moment. I don’t have any wisdom to offer in that
regard; it’s perhaps one of those things where the only ones who know the
answers are dead.
I know I’m a part of two communities at risk. The suicide rate among people with autism is shockingly
high – near 2% http://jerobison.blogspot.com/2014/05/what-happens-to-autistic-people-when-we.html
Some researchers speculate that autism isolates us, and
isolation is painful. Autistic people
are often subject to bullying, marginalization, and other painful things. I can understand how some of us are
overwhelmed by that mix.
It's easy to start feeling we have nothing to look forward too except more psychic pain, and if we feel that way suicide may seem like a good choice. I do not feel that way right now, but I have been there before, and I can't think of anything that magically "snapped me out of it. From my experience, I can see how this state of mind would become unsustainable after a certain period of time. Yet it's a quiet despair, and I don't think most people noticed when I was feeling that way.
That's the danger of those kind of feelings - no one knows. We don't show much outward sign, and if we don't get better on our own . . .
When I was alone as a young adult I used to feel terrible pain and despair, almost every night. I'm all too aware that those feelings can return any time, should something bad enough happen. We're a vulnerable population in that respect. Some people say sadness strengthens and shapes us; others say it kills us. I guess it's situational.
Another study – this one dating from 1999 – found a
similarly high rate among writers, sculptors, actors and other artists: http://www.amsciepub.com/doi/abs/10.2466/pr0.1999.84.1.291?journalCode=pr0
Are artists susceptible because we are sensitive to
perceived criticism? Are artists isolated
by difference? I don’t know. I know many writers who are absolutely devastated
by attacks on their work. I’ve felt that
myself, with some of the one-star reviews on Amazon. Does that lead to suicide? I don’t think anyone knows.
I know many writers and artists who seem to experience greater highs and lows than the average person. Maybe the highs bring us our gifts, but the lows can take us out. That's another unanswered question.
As a person who is often out there before the public, I know well the pressure to put on a happy face even when I'm crying inside. That puts a tremendous strain on the psyche, and it sometimes hammers you hard when you're alone after the show. When people look to you with certain expectations - whether you're a comedian like Robin, or a singer, or a speaker on disability - you are always feeling you must live up to an imaginary standard and it can be very hard. At the same time, you offer your inner thoughts - even if couched as comedy - and it stings when they're rejected. Is too much of that the straw that breaks the camel's back? Those of us who are living may never learn that particular answer.
I don't feel sad today - I am not writing from a place of despair - but I am well familiar with how that feels. It's heartbreaking to read stories like this one, and realize it could be any of us, tomorrow, with a few little disasters to put us over the edge.
I know many writers and artists who seem to experience greater highs and lows than the average person. Maybe the highs bring us our gifts, but the lows can take us out. That's another unanswered question.
As a person who is often out there before the public, I know well the pressure to put on a happy face even when I'm crying inside. That puts a tremendous strain on the psyche, and it sometimes hammers you hard when you're alone after the show. When people look to you with certain expectations - whether you're a comedian like Robin, or a singer, or a speaker on disability - you are always feeling you must live up to an imaginary standard and it can be very hard. At the same time, you offer your inner thoughts - even if couched as comedy - and it stings when they're rejected. Is too much of that the straw that breaks the camel's back? Those of us who are living may never learn that particular answer.
I don't feel sad today - I am not writing from a place of despair - but I am well familiar with how that feels. It's heartbreaking to read stories like this one, and realize it could be any of us, tomorrow, with a few little disasters to put us over the edge.
The suicide rate for people with severe psychiatric
disorders – mania, psychosis, schizophrenia, major depression – is even higher
– near 10%. The 1999 study draws that
comparison. I think of my parents, locked in the wards of the Northampton State Hospital 40 years ago. I remember seeing them among the other inmates and I understand. They were a desert of lost people.
Is there anything we might do to reduce rates of suicide in
these groups? I wasn't personally acquainted with Robin Williams, but the news of his death reminds me how sad it is that we can be so silently alone and in pain - even when we are loved by millions as he was. And our sadness can be such a crushing burden that we take our own lives rather than carry on, even as observers of our lives imagine things to be so good. And it can happy to any of us - rich or poor, famous or unknown.
I’d be interested in your thoughts.
John Elder Robison is an autistic adult and advocate for people with neurological differences. He's the author of Look Me in the Eye, Be Different, Raising Cubby, and the forthcoming Switched On. He's co-founder of the TCS Auto Program high school in Springfield, MA and Neurodiversity Scholar in Residence at the College of William & Mary in Williamsburg, VA.
John Elder Robison is an autistic adult and advocate for people with neurological differences. He's the author of Look Me in the Eye, Be Different, Raising Cubby, and the forthcoming Switched On. He's co-founder of the TCS Auto Program high school in Springfield, MA and Neurodiversity Scholar in Residence at the College of William & Mary in Williamsburg, VA.
Comments
For people with mental illness, sometimes talk therapy works, sometimes talk therapy combined with medication works, sometimes medication works by itself, and sometimes nothing works. When nothing works, unless you have somebody with the person 24/7 to stop them from hurting themselves, there may be no way to prevent it.
For people who are funny, like Robin Williams, it might help if the people around them did not expect them to be "on" all the time, because that could give them the impression that people like the funny person but don't like anything else about them.
Many of us that are "different" have learned to hide our differences, and our weaknesses as they make us an easy target for bullies, critics and the like, so we are often the last people who will come forward for help when it is needed.
When we do come forward, the mental health system is so broken, that we often come out WORSE than when we went in, if the right care is even available or affordable to you in the first place!
And let's not forget that once you do come forward, you now are the bearer of your own version of the Scarlet Letter. You are prejudged, further isolated, and even feared! Society either condemns you, misunderstands you or ignores you. I cannot tell you how many times I have heard people say things like "He should just get over it" about a friend that has severe anxiety and frequent panic attacks! No one would DARE say that to someone with cancer or other physical disorder, would they?
No one should be surprised by the numbers; I am actually surprised they are not much higher. We CAN make things better, it just takes the will of the people to make mental health a priority. Maybe because he was so loved by so many, Robin's death might wake up the nation.
Thanks for your devotion to helping us be better understood by the 'Norms. More people need to do what you do and be a voice for all of us!
I believe that so many of us who shoulder the brain activity of autism or other giftedness, talent, whatever you choose to call it, are suffering silently. Who understands us? How often do we find another who we can confide in? When do we not feel criticized or under the microscope for being different? Even myself, living with the choice every moment to attempt happiness and overcome anxiety and strife, I feel shrouded in a cloak that I must use to keep certain parts of myself hidden. Other times, when I brave being honest and share my ideas on positivity and love during times of heartbreak, I simply feel that I am being interpreted as fake.
It can be a no-win situation for those of us who struggle to find our tribe.
John, the day I met you and your family in NYC, was a day I felt comfortable for the first time in my life. I miss Mary every day. There were no veils and no masks. Just me being me.
Bless you, JER. This was a great piece highlighting an important concept for those of us who do have our dark moments of pain.
Thank you,
Rachel
Great article and I know what you mean about suffering depression. I had a severe crack up in 1984 after going to a 5 year high school reunion and have been suffering from depression and high anxiety ever since. Luckily, I have not tried anything destructive, mostly because I know I have friends and family who would kick my ass to Aldebaran (Alpha Tauri) if I tried anything like that.
When I heard about Robin, I got instanly depressed and oddly enough, I went into a screaming fir about the time his assitant found him. It was weird... I found out about it around 7:30 Pm MDT on my phone and told my girlfriend about it, who couldn't believe it.
I think Robin was manic depressive, espically after watching the show he did at the Met in NYC in 1986. It's terrible to see a man who made so many people laugh was going thru such soul crushing depression that forced him to end it all.
Rest easy Robin. Your jokes, movies and voice work will live forever.
Catherine
www.socialcommunicationfoundation.org
We need more stories about people who overcame adversity, including emotional and mental adversity. And we need less fear surrounding spirituality. Many have baggage about religion, and I have compassion for them, but I know many people who experienced tremendous wellness benefits from embracing spirituality.
There's also much we can do on the physical level to reduce the toxins that affect our brain chemistry, and support good brain chemistry through good food and supplements, exercise, sunlight, laughter, good social support, and time in nature (lots of research on that--you might be surprised) as well as embracing creativity.
Based on my own experience, I think the power to change that isn't in the hands of society, but is in the hands of the individual. When I am depressed, I tend to be focused on myself. The depression encourages self-centered thinking. Part of how I get out of it is to think of others, to serve others, to live for others.
Suicide is a selfish answer to a painful problem or set of problems. The solution seems to me, in part, to make a commitment to live for others. The joy of service can, with time and commitment, wash away the life-sucking power of despair.
This is a gross understatement. Autism *IS* isolation. It is a wall built around you that you can never break down. You can see through the gaps sometimes, and see what kind of life you could have if you were normal. You can see people making friends, getting married, having kids, but even if you're surrounded by people, you can never break down that wall.
Isolation is not painful. Stubbing your toe is painful. Words cannot even describe the horror of having Autism. Of knowing that you are never going to have the things that normal people have.
I am 31 years old, and I have no friends, no job, and I have never had a girlfriend. I can function just barely enough to live on my own.
The only thing that I ever wanted was to be loved, but as long as I have this disease, that will never, ever, ever happen.
I have lived a lifetime of rejection, humiliation, physical and mental abuse, isolation, ad horrible, horrible suffering.
Due to the severe anxiety issues that go with this disease, I don't (yet) have the courage to commit suicide. But when I do, I will.
We shouldn't be trying to prevent people with Autism from committing suicide. We should be helping them. Noone should have to suffer like this.
Sometimes autism is isolation,but that can change. I attempted suicide a few times, before I knew that I have aspergers. I know how bad it can be, especially because we often are alone, and we often suffer from insomnia, so nights can seem to never end. But it can change. I am now married, to someone who is very supportive. I have two children. It's not always 'better', but people with autism can have families. The first step is to change your thinking patterns. The only thing that helped me to get past the stage I was in, where I wanted to die, which lasted almost a decade, was somebody who told me to stop thinking about why I was depressed, why I felt like I did, everything that was bad. Instead, I must make a plan for the future. Even something small. If you feel like you can't cope tonight, think instead about a walk you are going to take tomorrow.(If you like to walk) Plan it in detail. Then make sure you do it tomorrow. Make your plans slowly more detailed,until you can see a future. If you have family, try to stay with them until you start feeling more able to cope. Once you have a plan for the future, and you can work towards it, you will feel a bit more in control, and not so helpless. If you do find someone, make sure that he or she is a very patient and understanding person, who doesn't mind that you will sometimes need them close and other times need them to give you a lot of space.