A Personal Take in the Aftermath of Robin Williams' Untimely Passing

My sister is bizarrely pissed off about Robin Williams’ death.  Or not so much about his death, as about people’s continuous recognition of it.  About twitter and facebook posts and blogs and newspaper articles.  She’s made several inappropriate angry posts herself admonishing others and telling them to “Stop It.” In her more articulate writing, she seems to be expressing the feeling that it’s too much.  That there’s nothing else on the news.  But her first comment that I noted was a reply to my daughter’s tweet within an hour or so of us hearing about it, saying, “just btw u and me: geez you'd think John Lennon was shot or something. I get it. I'm sad. Enough.”  This is problematic on many levels: a) who says Robin Williams wasn’t just as important as John Lennon?  Or you?  Or me? b) maybe it was enough for her, but we’d only just heard about it, and were just starting to grieve, which leads to c) why is her amount of grieving time the right amount, while others is too much?

A lovely shot of Robin Williams 

(photo courtesy of Entertainment Weekly)

This is even more inexplicable because my sister has stared into the abyss many times.  In recent years, she’s been taking medication that seems to help, and that she has said makes her life so much better.  That she doesn’t mentally relive mistakes of her youth or worry about others’ impressions of her nearly as much.  So I am wondering if the real reason she is so angry about people’s need to respond to Robin Williams’ suicide is that it comes too close.  If she looks at what happened here to an outrageously smart, talented, and funny man, (did I mention that my sister is outrageously smart, talented, and funny?) she might have to look a little more closely at herself as well?  Maybe things aren’t always so ducky and wrestling with the pain may just be a lifelong process?  At the fact that while it feels like the whole world is grieving over Robin Williams, who would do the same for her?  So it’s easier to be mad at the world than face her own self-perceived shortcomings.

An early shot of my sister (left) and me (right) and my brother (below)

(Photo courtesy of family archives)

I know I was mad at Philip Seymour Hoffman – and I struggled with the amount of attention surrounding his untimely and tragic death.  But then, I’m an alcoholic and drug addict.  An alcoholic and addict who’s been clean and sober for going on 22 years and who is terrified of what might happen if I have drink again.  Or do a line of cocaine.  So maybe it’s easier to shout at people to “Shut up!” than it is to look at yourself.  Maybe it’s easier to do most anything than look at yourself.  That’s kind of the point of all 12 Step Groups.

So I’m trying not to sit in judgment of my sister and her struggle.  Or of Robin Williams and his.  Or Philip Seymour Hoffman.  Or anyone else.  I think I’ll say “Enough” for now, and see if I can figure out what needs to change in me.  Just for today.