Depression has been a big topic in the news lately. And I won’t lie to you, depression is hard, really hard. The isolation, the silence, and the noise, and on and on and on. Depression is a quite contradictory, have you noticed that? And when you are in the throes of it, it feels like it will last forever. But it doesn’t. It tricks you into thinking that it lasts for an eternity, but it always goes away. And we get a reprieve of some sort.
Reading is a big help to me when I’m depressed, it takes me out of the moment and into another world, which is partly why I think of writers as A list celebrities. In matters such as these, I tend to accept wisdom from people who know themselves, and I find that people who spend endless hours alone know themselves better than people who surround themselves with an entourage.
Like the rest of the world, I have been grieving the loss of Robin Williams. I have had a hard time talking about his death. And now that there has been a week to distance ourselves from the news, words are starting to come a bit easier. There has been a lot of talk about his dealing with mental illness, and now the parkinson’s disease revelation, and how that had affected his mental state and general well-being. Everyone I know has had a very definite opinion about this tragic event. Some are understanding, some are still in disbelief, while others are extremely angry. But me, I’ve just felt kind of lost. I wasn’t terribly surprised, and I don’t really know why. I certainly didn’t expect this to happen, but I can’t say that I was shocked to hear about it. But I will say that his suicide has hit me very hard.
I’d like to share my story, not because its special, or magical, or entertaining. I want to share it, because I think it might be common. I think others might feel the same way, and I think it needs to be said.
I believe that I have been so troubled by this news because somewhere along the way I formed a personal relationship to him. I have never met Robin Williams, but I grew up in a dysfunctional household, and he brought giggles and smiles to a kid who desperately needed them. There wasn’t a lot of laughter in my house when I was growing up, but my father found Robin Williams to be hilarious. Life was always better when my father laughed. And so for that alone, Robin Williams was cherished. But there was something more. Something that reached a little farther than making my father happy.
For most of us, when a family member dies we are granted the gift of grieving in private. Our closest friends may call and send flowers and notes of sympathy, but for the most part we are given some time to say good-bye to our loved one in peace. But for the family of a celebrity, this is not the case.
This week, we lost a beloved and gifted actor/comedian. His fans (I am among them) have been trying to make sense of this tragedy. But we are not alone. Robin Williams’ family, those who knew him best lost someone greater than a comedian. They lost a husband, a best friend, a father, a confidant, and many other roles that he filled. This family deserves to mourn in solitude. The last thing that this family needs are internet trolls, and people hurling abuse at them. This family has already been dealt a difficult hand, why are there people out there trying to make them feel worse?
According to Slate, Zelda Williams (the daughter of Robin Williams) has deleted her social media accounts, because of people sending her “cruel and unnecessary” photoshopped images of her father’s body, and harassing her, because she didn’t have enough photos of her father on her instagram feed. She is 25 years old. How many people at the age of 25 have instagram photos of their parents?
He was best known for films such as Good Will Hunting, Mrs. Doubtfire, Good Morning Vietnam, and TV’s incomparable Mork from Mork and Mindy.
His publicist says that he had been battling severe depression as of late, and had recently been seeking treatment for drug abuse.
Best friends are sacred. They are to be treasured. They are our playmates when we are children, partners in crime when we are adolescents, and our confidants when we reach adulthood. They are our mirrors, they give us our true reflections. We are so protective of these relationships, and for good reason, we need them so we can become our best possible selves. They are there to listen to us talk about the worst date ever, they will stay up all night with us because we are lonely and can’t sleep, they hold your hand through the mess that is your life, and when you get the courage to make a fresh start they don’t let go during the scary times. and most importantly they help you bury the bodies.
But sometimes, for reasons you can’t comprehend, there is a change in your BFF status. It becomes harder to get together, or make time for regular calls, they get married and have children, and next thing you know, you have lost the most important relationship in your life. And it’s heartbreaking. It’s worse than breaking up with your boyfriend. For me, its equal to the death of the beloved family pet. Why? Because this person was the best part of you. He/She was integral in shaping your personality. You were smarter, wittier, happier, and way more fun when they were around. It’s painful when you lose them. And when you are the one responsible for the change, the guilt can become unbearable.
Which brings me to the reason for this blog post. My imaginary husband, also known as Malcolm Gladwell, told his story of how he ruined his relationship with his very bestest friend. While its a completely heartbreaking story, enough time has gone by that he can see the humour in it. Still there is a lot of pain, but he tells it very well.
There are times when I read something, and I shake my head in disbelief, wondering what prompted that kind of response.
When I read about this Kirstie Alley tweet, I experienced something much greater than disbelief. It made me angry.
If Ms. Alley was violated by the person she is referring to, there are proper channels to go through. Twitter is not one of them. Authorities are to be involved.
But because she chose to call this person out this way on a social media site — we are led to believe that she is joking (or at the very least is trying to get a reaction by shocking her audience). I am here to say, being raped in the ass is not a joke. Its not even remotely funny.
Megan Fox has it all. The 28 year-old actress and model is currently starring in the latest Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles film. She’s probably best known for her roles in some of the internationally popular Transformer movies. She’s also regularly featured among breathless media lists of the most beautiful women in the world.
The “sultry, exotic” movie star must be deliriously happy all the time being rich and famous, the center of attention, right?
When James Garner died last weekend, most of us were familiar with the lengthy, laudable entertainment career of the 86 year-old actor. It’s clear from his more than 50 films and unforgettable TV roles that Garner holds a prestigious place in the pantheon of Hollywood.
But perhaps even more noteworthy is the impact Garner’s had on many males and how they view themselves as boys and men. Mass media serves as critical building blocks of our culture’s gender role behaviors. In that arena, James Garner was more than an actor; he was an influential male role model.
Television’s Saturday Night Live is comedy’s premier prestigious launching pad into stratospheric show business success. The legendary list of movie superstars the show has produced is too luminously long to list here. To be included in SNL’s clever cast is to have your comedic resume branded with the gold standard, a future surely set with inestimable fame and fortune.
Unless you’re Brooks Wheelan. The 27 year-old comedian announced via Twitterthat he’s been fired from the show after only one uneventful season.
What’s the next step for a relative newcomer whose show biz dreams have been unexpectedly, unceremoniously shattered?
Last week, when Justin Bieber pleaded no contest to a charge of misdemeanor vandalism in his highly-publicized egg throwing barrage on a neighbor’s home earlier this year, it was the most recent of a rash of run-ins with the law for the 20 year-old Canadian singer-songwriter.
The precocious pop star’s growing rap sheet over the last two years, including charges of DUI, assault, and vandalism, has even casual observers wondering why.