Hi readers. Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.
I noticed on the television down at the Olathe Community Center to be stared at by people on treadmills and other torture machines that some big name celebrity killed himself. Guy who was in an amusing movie once about a house that an airplane crashed into and he bought it because it had been pre-disastered.
I don’t know. Maybe the guy was terminally ill, or maybe just depressed. That crap can surely happen. Back in my younger days I used to go into a black pit of depression there seemed no way out of. Where it seemed the Universe was trying to drag me into the hole a person doesn’t come back out of, the way this Williams guy exited.
I was lucky in a lot of ways, though I’m not sure what all of them were. I had a name for the ‘entity’ that seemed to take possession of my mind and spirit during those times. I called it the blue demon. Because it seemed to be a real being.
And the way I eventually got it into my past so’s I have to work to remember about it, was by treating it as a living, thinking creature with a will I could do battle with, wrestle it to the ground. Banish it from my psyche.
And once I discovered I could do that and did it successfully and thoroughly one time, afterward it was a lot easier. For decades afterward anytime I sensed that blue demon out of the corner of my perceptions I’d immediately jump in and do battle with it again, drive it out before it got a foothold.
It worked so well for me that I’ve sometimes gone years, maybe decades without ever sensing it, doing battle with it. But it’s still there, lurking, waiting for things to happen in its favor. When my health began the slide down the slippery slope the old blue demon tried whispering to me out of the wings a few times.
Interestingly, I think I have a lot of the symptoms of clinical depression right now, today, minus the blue demon black pit and the anguish that goes with it. I’m a happy, lucky man, grateful and congratulating myself for it a thousand times per day.
But I can’t force myself to open my mail. I don’t answer the telephone unless I’m confident who is calling. Have to force myself to do anything that falls into the arena of acknowledging one hell of a lot of life that would love to come in and say hello.
I’m probably going to have to do something about that. Maybe give it a name, shake hands with it, and do battle. I’m just not there yet.
Old Jules
So Far From Heaven 
Robin Williams problems, like those of lesser known people are more complicated than the mass media cares to report. Illness cannot be summed up in convenient soundbytes for popular consumption. On the one hand it’s good to raise awareness of the tragedy. On the other hand, the Williams’ death devolved quickly into a media circus.
Hi swabby: I’d guess, though I’m not sure it’s true, that a lot of people offed themselves the same day he did. And that every one of them measures out to be an equally lousy choice, equally tragic. Or whatever. The trouble with suicide as a rule is the shitty taste it leaves in the lives of everyone touched by it. Nobody pays a lot of attention to that when they’re teetering on the ledge or squeezing the trigger. Or they just don’t care. Jack
Hell, I am dying of a terminal illness. The doctor told me I only have so many years left and I sure don’t want to hurry that. So why would anyone want to kill him or herself for that reason? I would blame it on depression only, no matter what caused the depression.
Hi Dizzy. I’m expecting a happy ending from you. Not allowing any other possibilities into the equation. Thanks for coming by. Jack
Familiar- “But I can’t force myself to open my mail. I don’t answer the telephone unless I’m confident who is calling.”
Just popped in for a quick check on the events in your world, still otherwise occupied but happy to know you’re here.
elroyjones: Good seeing you. Hope all’s well in your world. Thanks for coming by. Jack
I’d sure like to know how you beat back the blue demon. Sounds like you have a grey one lurking. Or maybe a red one for the red balance in your financial accounts. Sure seems stupid to have to worry about that crap when you could be dead instead. “Hi, and thanks for living so you can pay us for the privelege!”
heretherebespiders: If a time ever comes when you think knowing about it in loving detail will have value for you I’ll answer an email from you. You figured me right about the red demon, I figures. Jack
Evening snews says that Robin was diagnosed with Parkinson’s recently. Having watched one of my mentors decline over a year into a quivering, drooling blob, I gotta tell you that despite over 60 years of (more or less successfully) fighting my own depression, I’d be blowing my brains out about as quick as you can sing the opening refrain of “Suzanne” or “Puff the Magic Dragon”.
I don’t sing Suzanne anymore and never sang Puff, so I’m hoping you’re safe insofar as me influencing things one way or ther other. As for Robin Williams it doesn’t matter much what anyone might second guess on it, know about it, whatever. Maybe someone was humming Suzanne somewhere and he caught strains of it on the wind. Jack