We Don't Know

Last night I was looking through a list of movies to watch on Netflix and I saw “The Birdcage” with Robin Williams.  It was before I learned of his death.  I watched it and laughed.  And in the morning, read that he had taken his own life.

I know we only see people’s outsides and can’t possibly know what really goes on inside of them (but for a few).  And that’s with our friends and family members.  We don’t know a thing about celebrities except for what we see on the screen or read about in some glossy rag.  But reading about his death made me angry.

Angry because (and again, I don’t know him or his demons) I fight so hard every day of my physically tortured life and it’s a fight for a life I don’t even want.  Why do I do it?  It seems wholly unfair to think it would hurt others around me if I made that choice.  How can anyone (apart from those who have NF or some other physically challenging disorder…especially one that involves pain) know what it’s like not to be able to take oneself to the store, to drive, to travel, to have a NORMAL life?  But hell, what’s normal?  And whose to say Robin William's demons were any more or any less horrific than mine?

We’ve destroyed the planet, there’s war everywhere, Ebola will probably end it for many of us (see why I stay away from the news….usually) and I think, so what if my nieces and nephew have traveled the globe and been to places I can’t even dream of going to, so what if many of my friends are happily with a partner (though many are not), so what if they have careers, lives, etc.?  So What.

So I’m angry that Robin Williams didn’t fight harder.  For all that he had in the way of admiration and success.  And I don’t mean money.  I know he was divorced twice, but he had three lovely adult children and was currently married.  I know we don’t know what happens behind closed doors.  I know because nobody knows my true anguish about having to live this life of mine.

I feel I have to see it through or I’ll be destined to repeat it (or one similar).  I’m just too much of a chicken, truth be told.  Maybe G-d is waiting for me to do it.  We don’t know.  You can tell yourself any story you want to, but in the end, we don’t know. Belief and faith are all fine and dandy and I use both often.  But that doesn’t change the fact the in the end.  We. Don’t Know.

On the other hand, maybe he got it right.