For Robin Williams, who lost the fight, and for the rest of us, who are still fighting.

It's been a long time since I managed to write anything here. Yesterday, I woke up to the news that Robin Williams was dead, by suicide. I didn't want to believe it, but like everyone else I had no choice.

My Facebook news feed was flooded all day with RIP messages, and peppered with words of sympathy reaching out to those who feel suicidal and/or who are depressed to talk to someone, anyone, that they're not alone, and to seek help. There were also some expressions of confusion - how could someone so successful, who laughs all the time, such a people person, be moved to commit suicide?

I'm going to say a few things now that might offend some of those well-meaning people, so before I do, let me say this: I mean to educate others using an insider's perspective.

For perspective: I have battled depression since childhood. Along the way, I have had my own near-suicidal experiences. No, I don't want pity. There's no point to it, so put it back where it came from. This is just for those of you who would say 'How would you know?'.

The thing about suicide is that it's very easy to argue against it, if you're in your right mind. Therein lies the problem, of course. It's a well-known fact that suicidal people are not in their right mind - nowhere near it. You can argue against suicide all you like, but if you're trying to talk someone out of suicide, I can only say one thing: good luck.

I've experienced two types of near-suicide, which I've named 'suicidal phase' and 'suicidal impulse'. I found the first to be incomparable misery, and the second utterly terrifying.

Suicidal Phase: I can best describe this as a period of time in which the sufferer has such a 'low mood' [doctors, nurses, psychologists, fellow depressives, you know what I mean] that they cannot see a light at the end of the tunnel. There is no hope, no light, no joy, no bliss, no happiness; it is unending misery, loneliness, a dull ache that takes over your entire being and threatens to swallow you whole that no painkiller in existence could ease. There is no escape, except to make it stop.

Key word: escape. If the sufferer uses this word in their description of how they feel, psychotherapy and counselling should be able to help them get through this incredibly dire time. Talking things through may well reduce the severity of this episode, although it may not remove it.

Suicidal Impulse: I can't decide on a way to adequately describe this one. Imagine it as an almost physical compulsion. It comes on and you feel compelled to follow it. The sufferer might not be in a suicidal phase at the time, and they may even be doing very well psychiatrically, psychologically, and physically; or they could be in the throes of a nasty bout of depression, symptoms flaring like a fireworks festival, even within a suicidal phase perhaps. In the one case it seems to come out of nowhere, spontaneous, a great big shocking surprise; in the other, it seems like a natural progression. Either way, this case is the most immediately dangerous, because the sufferer has to control the impulse using mind over matter - and when you're already fraying at the edges, it can unravel you. You're driving along and out of nowhere, you want - need - to drive into a wall at full speed; you're walking along a high place, and out of nowhere, you want - need - to fall; you're doing sweet fanny adams at home, and out of nowhere, you want - need - to take all the pills in your medicine cabinet.

Key word: impulse.

It doesn't matter that the impulse hits - it matters that the impulse is overcome. Robin Williams killed himself last night - and countless others too, no doubt. How many times did they have to fight off the quasi-compulsion? And what toll did those fights take on their overall health? And why, oh why, do we get these moments and phases? Psychiatrists haven't found the answers to those questions yet, and I live in the hope that they'll find them soon.

So. There it is. Being cheerful, happy, full of laughter, in love with the world, in love with someone, glad to be alive, enjoying life, and all the good things possible, just aren't enough to stop an impulse hitting; and occasionally, they're not enough to save you when it does. No amount of seeking help will stop you at that moment in time if the impulse hits too strongly for you to fight it off, unless there's someone right next to you who realises what's going on and physically intervenes - and even then, it's a risky chance.

Obviously I can't speak about actual suicide, because I'm still here.

Robin Williams cheered me up to no end as a child, and captured my imagination through his films the way only books had previously. I'm going to toast him tonight, because he did his best to be a light in the darkness for others in many ways, and a particularly effective one as he was well acquainted with the abyss itself. If I do nothing else with my life, if someday I myself lose to such an impulse, I pray - as well as an agnostic can - that I will have been a light for others too. That's the best any of us can strive to be, I think. It doesn't matter how we end, what matters is how we live.

Sincerely,

Macs