In Honor of Robin Williams I Will Share A Brief Snippet of My Story...
'Ya know, I love when people say that they have a crazy life. They
throw the term around like a nap sack. Truth is, 99% of the people I
know don't know how lucky they are. I have led and continue to lead a
crazy life and I feel that now is the time to come clean and tell you
all about it.
At about the age of 14 a voice in my head used to whisper in my ear that
I was a writer. I had an innate understanding of who I was and what I
was born to do. But it came at a cost. At the start of
high school I began to seclude myself. Although secluded, I had tons of
friends, but I felt uncomfortable around them. The only things that
made sense to me were music and writing and I wrote a lot. It made me
feel alive. I loved the thought in knowing that something written by me
could live forever. I got off on leaving a trail behind me. A trail of
thoughts. A trail of tears. A trail of hope. A trail of redemption.
All of these thoughts at 14. It was so hard for me to be a normal
teenager. I loved Phish more then I loved chicks. I would go to Barnes
& Noble for hours and read Bukowski and Byron, Emerson and Thomas.
I could relate to their thoughts and feelings. I could relate to Dylan
and Robert Hunter, Neil Young and Kurt Cobain. I understood them. I
understood them more then I understood my friends or my classmates and
even myself. So I wrote. And I wrote. And I went to college and I lost
my mind.
At 18 the All American Boy couldn't hide anymore. In college, I had a
nervous breakdown and I came home and was diagnosed with Bipolar
Disorder. I have never been the same. A part of me died. A part of me
rose. Both parts of me were confused and all I wanted to do was hide.
But now everyone knew I was different. There was no place to hide. And I
was scared. Of who I was. Of what I had. Of where this disease had taken
me and was taking me. But I wrote and I wrote and it always made me feel better because I
was doing what I was meant to do. What I loved.
But my writing changed. It became more abstract. Frequent drug use,
mixed with medicine created creative liftoff. I look back at those
writings in wonderment. I don't know the young man that wrote those
words and I don't want to, but damn, that kid valued the use of the adjective.
My book of poetry was published in 2004. Not many have read it. It's
called The Bipolar Boy and every couple of months I'll take a look at it
and I'll start to cry. I've come so far.
Between the ages of 25-29 I hardly wrote. I quit doing drugs and was
taking way too much medication. The wrong concoction stripped me of
everything. I couldn't write. I couldn't work. I gained 100 lbs. I was
subconsciously trying to kill myself. But I didn't succeed. And then
everything changed.
My Mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer
My mom was gonna see me healthy, productive, doing what her son was born
to do before she died. I saw a new shrink. Got on the right meds. I lost a 100 lbs.
I quit smoking and I wrote a musical in a little over a year. And out
of all those triumphs nothing made my mother happier then watching me
work on my musical. I'd read it to her, run ideas by her, and she rarely
commented, she just listened. But, when she thought something was
extraordinary she'd just tell me it was good. That was exactly what I
needed to hear because I demanded perfection and she expected nothing
less. I finished my musical 11 days before my mother died. I read it
to her. She took my hand, told me she loved me and said "Scotty, i'll
be your date at The Tony's".
So, it's been 3 years since my mom died. I'm still bipolar and I'm
driven. Driven to make my dreams a reality. In the past 3 years I've
written a musical, a game show, 3 television pilots, I started writing a
novel, I've written and performed stand up, I've written about 100
poems and I'm in the middle of writing a movie. It's basically all I
do.
Right now i'm broke. I've had like 10 different jobs in the last 3 years. I've had tons
of meetings with studio execs. I've been told my work is brilliant by
very important people but I still haven't gotten my big break. All it
takes is one opportunity. Someone to put their neck on the line for
you. I've had 3 people promise me that. In my mind I've been a
household name way too many times and I'm still basically at square
one. This is show business. My time will come. But when someone says
they have such a crazy life. Be poor, be bipolar, lose your mind, lose your mother and
be promised 2 television shows and a greenlit musical. Craziness is staying positive, and that's what I am, and that's what I continue to be.
So this is all part of who I am. And it's just made me stronger and it's
made me appreciate everything so much more. Food, friends, my family, the roof over
my head. The worst is far behind me. I will keep moving forward. I
will keep writing. Because it's who I am and what I do and nobody can
take that away from me.
I wish Robin Williams kept on making us laugh. It's what kept him alive. It's what made him feel alive. We should still be laughing...
Everyone reading this knows someone with bipolar disorder or severe
depression. Get them help. Take them to The Doctor. Watch them. Love
them. Care for them. Understand.
I am only here today because of the love and unwavering support I
received from both of my parents. Through all the good and bad they
never lost hope. They never lost sight of who I truly am. Just a really
warm, kind, creative person with a big heart that's wired a little differently. If someone's
sick, get them help. You'll save a life and they'll be grateful forever..
