Dead Poets, Drag Queens and Activists

This morning I woke to the news tjat actor, comedian and activist, Robin Williams, had lost the battle to a silent, but terrifying demon. Depression.
I read the tributes to him and notice how so many comment on the irony that he brought laughter and joy to so many but still struggled with depression. I don't see the irony. But maybe that's because I also face the same, misunderstood demon.
To those fortunate not to live with it, depression is a mystery that is often viewed the same way fairytale characters are viewed. We are told to "snap out of it" or to "pullourselves together" or even that we can't be depressed because maybe there was a joke we did manage to laugh at. Miserable people don't laugh.
And that's just it.  Depression isn't misery. I can be depressed but will find something to laugh at. I can hide my struggle with this demon whilst at work. I can put on that brave face. But not all the time.  And the mask tends to slip when I am with those I am closest to.  My family and maybe one or two very close friends. In front of everyone else, I may well seem perfectly happy.
Depression is not sadness. It is more akin to hopelessness.  It is like falling into a deep hole and not seeing the point of climbing out as there will always be more holes.
One way of hiding this battle is to distract friends and acquaintances from seeing the demon by making them laugh.
So, sad as I am to hear that Robin Williams lost his battle, I am also saddened that his battle is such a surprise for so many.  It shows how depression is still taboo. We have to hide it. Pretend everything is fine. Put on a mask. But, whatever you do, the neighbours must not know that you are fighting a demon.
So how do I cope with my demon? I don't always.  There have been some very dark days ehere the hole has just been too deep. But I am lucky. O have a wonderful husband who has learnt to spot the signs
He does everything he can to get me out the hole.  And even then, he has had to seek help. If it wasn't for him, I would not have gone to the doctor, would not have discovered that my demon is governed by a chemical imbalance and could be managed by a tablet.
And, as much as I hate the idea, my happy pill helps. It is not a cure. But it makes the demon manageable.
So the next time you hear that someone is fighting depression, and they make you smile, remember that their demon is sleeping. It hasn't gone away and they aren't lying. And maybe taking a few seconds to show you appreciate them.  It might just take a smile. Or a thank you.
Ot might just keep the demon at bay one more day.