After Robin Williams’s Passing: Disentangling the Deceit of Depression

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I often feel like a fraud when I discuss my struggle with depression. It’s a term I’ve rarely uttered, especially in reference to myself, and it feels strange rolling off my tongue. I don’t fit the typical image of someone battling depression, which might be why I feel compelled to share my experience. Perhaps there are others who, like me, sense something is amiss but manage to put on a brave face, leaving them unsure of how to navigate their feelings.

I always imagined that depression looked like someone lying in bed, utterly incapacitated and unable to tackle even the simplest tasks. Yet, that’s not the entirety of the picture, is it? You can be battling depression while still going through the motions of daily life, albeit at a slower pace and with less precision. On the surface, everything may appear normal, but inside, you feel like a lost fragment of yourself.

My journey began before the tragic loss of Robin Williams. I’ve always dealt with anxiety, but something shifted last year, and I felt as if my nerves were laid bare. My thoughts spiraled out of control, and my hands shook uncontrollably. Instead of reaching out, I withdrew, hoping the overwhelming feelings would vanish as quickly as they arrived.

That’s when the lies began to creep in. “Depression lies,” you might have heard before. It didn’t take much for my thoughts to spiral into a pit of negativity. “I’m annoying.” “I’m unlovable.” “I’m not funny.” “I’m ugly.” “I’m stupid.” “I’m worthless.” Over time, a new insidious thought emerged: “Life will always be like this.” That realization was terrifying.

From the outside, I appeared fine. I fulfilled my responsibilities, got out of bed every day, cared for my kids, and maintained relationships. I was the puppet master of my own life, maneuvering through daily tasks while feeling like a zombie inside. But the facade was just that—an act. I was living a lie.

There were subtle signs that I was struggling. My family likely noticed when I stopped reaching out as frequently. Friends might remember a dip in our social interactions around that time. Even my husband could recall moments when he asked, “Are you okay? You seem off.”

Throughout that year, I sometimes found myself fixated on the kitchen knife while cooking, feeling a fleeting rush of excitement at the thought of using it to escape my pain. But I knew that would lead to more trouble than relief. I’ve never contemplated suicide or spent days bedridden, nor have I taken medication. For a long time, I believed I couldn’t claim the label of “depression” because I didn’t fit the common narrative, which only added to my feelings of confusion.

However, I can understand how someone could reach that desperate point. That final lie—“Life will always be like this”—is powerful. A few months ago, a friend shared her struggle with depression in a Facebook group and received overwhelming support. It struck me how others could be believed while I struggled in silence. After reading an article about depression and recognizing the symptoms, I finally admitted, “I’ve forgotten how to be happy.” Before I could hit delete, someone urged me to seek help, and eventually, I did.

I’m still on my journey, unraveling my anxiety, triggers, and the roots of my feelings. It’s a process, but I’m beginning to feel hope again, and it’s exhilarating. My work with a therapist has been transformative. Yet, even as I write this, I battle feelings of doubt, questioning if I really have depression or if I’m just imagining it.

This brings me back to the lies of depression. Robin Williams’s passing affected me deeply because I understand how one can fall into the belief that life will never improve. That thought, however, is false. If you relate to my experience, know that those negative thoughts in your mind are not the truth. Please reach out and talk to someone. Life can get better—you just have to be willing to seek help.

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In summary, I shared my journey through depression, highlighting how it can manifest differently for each person, often hidden behind a façade of normalcy. It’s essential to recognize the lies that depression tells and to know that seeking help can lead to healing.