Dear Robin Williams

Two days ago I heard that you committed suicide and a piece of my soul is forever wounded. There is a hole that can never be filled. Do you have any idea how incredible you are? Do you know how amazing and special your little spark of madness truly is?

I am not mad at you. Some people are. They say suicide is selfish and cowardly. They don’t know what they are talking about. You and I both know that suicide is when you feel there is no more strength left. It’s when you need others to step forward and share their strength for a while. Breathing hurts. Thinking hurts. Dear heavens, feeling hurts. And all you want is the pain to stop. For the despair, like a toxic black cloud inside and out, to go away. The darkness is suffocating and yet it promises relief from the pain. I understand the allure, all too well. I have fought the same battle for 20 years myself.

I was fortunate. An amazing man, a cop, stepped into my life for a brief moment and gave me his strength. He made me promise him that no matter how bad things got, that I would never end my own life. For 20 years I have kept my promise.

That’s not to say it wasn’t close once or twice. That’s not to say there weren’t moments when I forgot my promise. At one point I held a 9mm gun in my hand, loaded and ready, and just shook from head to toe for over an hour. I wanted to end it all so desperately. I had been drugged and raped for the second time in my life. I had lived 21 years of misery and tragedy that seemed like it would never end. And yet, in that darkest of dark hours, I heard his words.

“You are strong enough to get through anything. You have gotten through dark times. Promise me you will never end your own life.” I wept and stared at that gun, longing for the end. I cursed him for that vow. I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter. But that one person was the only one that did matter. He saved my life time and time again.

I wish I could have been part of your life. I would have held your hand. I would have hugged you. I would have tried to make sure you weren’t alone when you were hurting. I would have made you promise me not to end your own life. I would have told you how strong you are. I would have been strong for you when you needed it most. I would have made you feel loved.

Ironically, when I am at my lowest I turn to movies to make me laugh. More often than not I turn to children’s movies. Aladdin has been my favorite for many years because of its happy songs and the crazy antics of Genie. But life doesn’t always have a happy ending, does it? You knew that all too well.

If there is an after life, I hope you are filled with peace and the love of a world that owes you more than it can ever repay. If there is reincarnation, I hope you return as something beautiful and happy that won’t be destroyed by the world. In either case, I hope you can feel the outpouring of love and shared grief throughout the world. I hope the emptiness and pain is gone.

This is my third post since your death, the third day of helpless tears, and I still haven’t been able to find the right words. We loved you so much but as the saying goes, you never know how much you love something until it’s gone. I never told you – the distance between us seemed too big. It seemed like we were worlds apart. I had no idea how close our worlds really were. I am sorry for not reaching out sooner, for not telling you how much you impacted me.

Your body might be gone but your spirit will live forever. I may never find the words to say thank you for all the gifts you gave.

We love you and oh God, how we miss you.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Dear Robin Williams

  1. Your description of what it feels like is dead on (no pun intended). I especially appreciated the analogy of despair to a toxic black cloud. And yes, just BEING can hurt that badly. I’m glad you’re still here to share this, thank you.

Your Turn

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s