A conversation to be had

"I had insecurities and fears like everybody does, and I got over it. But I was interested in the parts of me that struggled with those things."

Untimely and unnecessary death tends to shock us, more so when it is the death of a talented artist at the prime of his career at the centre of the western world. I have over the past few days been reading accounts of what has happened to Philip Seymour Hoffman and I have been scrolling through the social media comments on the evil of drugs, or the need to legalise or regulate them. However, the real conversation has not taken place, and it is the most important conversation we need to have. I am in no way by what I am going to say in the words that will follow saying that all people who take drugs have mental health issues, or that all people with mental health issues will eventually take drugs but what it is clear to me and should be clear to most is that to reach the point Philip Seymour Hoffman reached and many have and will, he must have been fighting mighty demons. 

I will clarify here I am an advocate of complete legalisation and taxation of all drugs, I think that is the best way to protect the most vulnerable, to reduce drug related crime, to end the war on drugs, to help those already addicted, to control how and to whom it is distributed, and for those interested in the money, to bring some much needed revenue. I will, however, clarify, I don't believe drugs are evil, or great. Not everyone who takes them becomes an addict, most myths we were told as teenagers about drugs to stop us taking them were just that, myths, but that does not make them any less dangerous. Just like alcohol and smoking (and sugar, and fat) drugs must be taken responsibly, and some people just cannot handle them, and some drugs are really not good. Some people take them to have fun when they go partying, or to chill out. Others to escape their demons; But you cannot escape your demons. The same way alcohol, or cigarettes, or food, or "love" will not hide you from your demons. They are there, and only courage, and an army of friends, family, maybe a therapist or a spiritual advisor, maybe even medication, will help you fight them off.

As I was reading the comments of Philip Seymour Hoffman heroine overdose ranging from how drugs were evil, to the need to legalise, to how stupid he was, I started thinking of him. Of how he had suddenly been taken out of the narrative. The narrative had become heroine and drugs, I don't know his personal history and even if I did I could not give it the merit it deserves. I have decided to write about this not to speak of his life but of what is not being spoken of his death, and because as serendipity has it it is Time to Talk this week and it strikes me maybe he didn't talk of his demons. Those in the limelight are often and regrettably more celebrated for their meltdowns than for their courage, their brand is more established and even after death they are remembered as great icons of their art. With few exceptions those who come out and say who they are and what they are facing slowly fade into non-existence, no longer interesting, Catherine Zeta-Jones as a case in point. I found her bravery inspiring, but nobody talks about it any more. The stigma of an invisible illness is so powerful that so many suffer and die in silence and we all change the narrative because we don't want to talk about it either. 

And why is it that we don't? Before we all engage in our Time to Talk day, which some us have done so every day for a while in spite of judgement, we should still ask why do we shy away from talking about the reasons behind a celebrity's drug overdose? Why is it still difficult for anyone in the public sphere to speak openly and proudly about their struggles? Why is it easier to talk about the drugs that killed the man than to speak with compassion for the person behind the headlines?