Thank You, Mr. Williams

Robin Williams helped me realize that being goofy can be beautiful. I grew up watching reruns of Mork & Mindy on TV. I loved watching him own a stage when he’d perform his comedy, and I have seen practically all of his movies – even Bicentenial Man. I’m one of many in my generation that say Dead Poets Society made me want to be an English teacher – while not actually enough to BE an English teacher.

So when I awoke to news of his passing, I joined people all over the world in disbelief. When I read the headlines calling his death the result of suicide, I was shaken with remembrance. Depression is not a respecter of persons, nor does it care if you can smile your way through it. Williams had a successful career that crossed genres and mediums, wealth, a family that loved him, and seemingly everything any of us would want. But in the end, there was something waging war inside him that claimed his life.

Robin Williams was one of us. He was a gamer. Whether it was pushing miniatures in a Warhammer 40k game or playing a game of Battlefield between takes on the set, Williams did not shy away from the fact that he was a giant gaming nerd. His children are named after video game characters after all. It is because of this, and my own struggles with depression and past thoughts of suicide, that I wanted to share this.

You might be at the table with people that are struggling with the deepest hurts imaginable. There may be no visible signs of the weight they carry, but that does not diminish its effects on them. Perhaps they are showing up to game night hoping that somebody would see them, care about them, or just let them know it’s going to be alright. Maybe that person is you.

The overarching theme in everything we do here at InnRoads is living in true community. A community where every person is able to share struggles, questions, and doubts in a safe place where joys are shared and burdens can be eased. We’re not always good at it. There are days when we bring our own struggles with us that we don’t want to talk about. But we –no, this isn’t even me speaking as InnRoads now. This is me. I can’t let that stand.

I used to refer to myself as a party favor. I felt like everyone loved it when I was at the party, but few people ever thought to actually bring me there. I felt like an outsider among outsiders. Everyone around me would generally say I was a nice guy who they’d call a friend. Many of them actually were, but none of it felt real. Even then I had a personality larger than my substantial presence. I already had a laugh that entered the room ten minutes before I did. However, it was undercut by an overwhelming hatred of everything that I was. I would weep oceans in my room when the lights went out.

I am not overstating when I say I wouldn’t be here to type this if God didn’t surround me with people who loved me in the middle of my misery. He brought people into my life who knew when to sit silently with me, when to hug me, and when to kick my butt and make me return to the land of the living. You may be that person to someone else. When the dice have stopped rolling, the boards returned to their boxes, and the minis returned to the shelf – the community remains open and available.

May our prayers be to be used by God to speak hope into the lives of those who are struggling in darkness. And if you are the one in need of hope, know that you are not alone. Get help. There is no shame in it. There are a lot of us out here that have stared the shadows in the face and have come through the battle. You have my ax, and I will help stand beside you to carry the weight as long as you need – until we can put it down at the feet of Christ.

Thank you, Mr. Williams, for the joy you brought into my life. Thank you for letting me know it was okay to be the loudest and goofiest one in the room in the pursuit of joy. Thank you for standing on desks, being the boy that never grew up, for having semi-phenomenal nearly cosmic powers, and everything else you did for us. Thank you for reminding us that gamers can do anything they want to do. I only wish we could have done more to help you. May we help make sure the darkness doesn’t claim any more.