We Are All Hiding Pain

I just read that the comic genius, Robin Williams, was found dead today. He was only 63 (younger that my parents), and the cause is believed to be suicide by asphyxiation. That’s a rough way to go, and I’m really hoping they later decide it was an accidental death related to some kinky sex play. However, assuming that Robin Williams intentionally committed suicide brought to my mind a reminder of one very grim, yet important, thought.

We are all hiding pain. It may not be physical pain, for many more of us, it is emotional pain. For some, it is both physical and emotional, but we  are all hiding it. I know I am guilty. I can only imagine how much harder it would be to reach out for someone whose identity is the “funny guy”. Can you imagine a sick day for Robin Williams? Sorry guys, I just don’t feel like being funny today. Yet, I’m sure there were a million days where he didn’t really feel like being funny, but he did it anyway, because that was his job. It was who he was, and it was how others identified him.

About 20 years ago, my brother and I went to see the comedian Gallagher. We were all having a great time enjoying his show as he headed into his finale; the part where he smashes watermelons (and other things) with a big mallet. He had asked for a volunteer and invited a guy up on stage. The guy sent his young son instead. Sadly, as the boy ran around on stage while Gallagher smashed things, the boy fell. He had apparently broken his leg. The paramedics came and the boy was taken off stage. Gallagher came back out and ended his show early, with the comment “I’m sorry guys I just don’t feel like being funny.” Did people understand? Nope! They wanted what they’d paid for, they wanted the finale. It didn’t matter that a boy had just broken his leg. The audience expected Gallagher to do what we’d paid him to do, and finish the show.

This is what it’s like for any of us. It doesn’t matter if we “feel like it” mentally or emotionally, we are expected to do our job anyway. Whether that job is a job we are paid for, or just the job we signed up for as a spouse or parent. The show must go on. Sure, every once in a while we can get away with calling in sick, but those times are rare, and we can typically only get away with it when we didn’t really have anyone relying on us that day anyway. When there’s nothing too pressing on our schedule. Otherwise, we put on our happy face and we go about our day “faking it” as best we can.

The death of Robin Williams is a grim reminder that we are all faking it, some better than others. Behind the biggest smiles, the biggest laughs, we are hiding some pain. Often it’s not physical pain that others don’t see, although it’s what we talk about the most around here. Often, it’s emotional pain that we are hiding. We hide it behind smiles. We laugh off the worry. We make jokes at our own expense. What we really feel is extreme sadness, a feeling of loss, that nothing will ever be the same again, and that it’s not OK. We don’t want others to know just how much we are really suffering inside. We don’t want them to worry, because then they might be sad like we are. And, we wouldn’t wish our sadness on anyone, let alone want to be the reason for their sadness.

When you see another person laughing or crying, smiling or frowning, try to ask yourself what they might really be feeling. We can’t honestly ever put ourselves in their shoes, their circumstances, but just by trying we make a big leap. Instead of assuming we know how others feel, or why they are making the choices they make try to consider the alternatives. Just for a moment. And, treat them with kindness and a smile. Because, you never know when that might make the difference.

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