August 11: Empty and Forlorn, Robin Williams, Mental Illness and Addictions

...The Fair Grounds were soon deserted.  The sheds and buildings were empty and forlorn.  The infield was littered with bottles and trash.  Nobody, of the hundreds of people that had visited the Fair, knew that a grey spider had played the most important part of all.  No one was with her when she died.

You'll forgive me if I depart from my usual programming tonight.  A few hours ago, I found out that Robin Williams died.  He was found in his California home, alone, the victim of an apparent suicide.  A few other people have said that he was recently suffering from major depression.


Mental illness is horrible, and it's often coupled with addictions, as well.  The addictions don't cause the mental illness.  The addictions are a way of dealing with the mental illness.  Robin Williams was very candid about his struggles with alcohol and cocaine.  Because of his manic energies, many people thought he suffered from bipolar disease.  I never read anything to substantiate that claim, but it wouldn't surprise me.

Whatever his problems, Robin Williams was a truly gifted individual.  Brilliantly comic.  Stunningly serious.  Peter Pan to a Fisher King.  The world is a little heartbroken tonight.  The Fair Grounds are empty and forlorn.

Saint Marty has one thing to say:  "O Captain!  My Captain!"

May 1: Empty and Forlorn, Packing Up, Leaving

...The Fair Grounds were soon deserted.  The shed and buildings were empty and forlorn.  The infield was littered with bottles and trash.  Nobody, of the hundreds of people that had visited the Fair, knew that a grey spider had played the most important part of all.  No one was with her when she died.

Sorry I was away yesterday.  It was kind of a depressing time.  I packed up my belongings at the medical office in the morning.  Seventeen years' worth of stuff.  Books.  Notebooks.  Pictures.  Mugs.  Cartoons.  My goal was to erase all evidence of myself from the place.  By the time I was done, I had accomplished that goal.


When I left at the end of the day, I looked back at the desk.  It used to be my desk.  Now, it's just the desk.  It could be anybody's desk.  Impersonal.  Clean.  Uncluttered.  I actually got a little emotional walking out of the dark office.  It didn't pass until I got home.

Then, I graded exams and papers.  Thirty-five exams.  Ten or 11 essays.  It took me until well past 11 p.m.  I had every intention of posting after I was done, but I was absolutely exhausted.  At the moment, I'm sitting in my classroom, handing back those exams and papers.  It's quiet.  I'm watching the film Capote, which was not a good choice given my current frame of mind.

When I'm done here, I'm going back to my university office and packing my belongings there.  I'm being moved to a new building this summer, so I have to box up my books and binders.  I don't have much.  I've learned, in my long career as an adjunct instructor, not to put down roots in any office.  It's an impermanent kind of faculty existence.

So, I don't have anything wise or thought-provoking to share.  The Fair Grounds are empty.  The buildings and sheds are forlorn.

Saint Marty will turn out the lights when he leaves.

So long, and thanks for all the fish, as Douglas Adams said