Addiction and depression have a way of tricking the mind, in making the afflicted feel like they are painted into a corner and there's no way out it. That is false, of course. It can be so hard to see the options when a person reaches a certain point of depression. That is a very lonely place to be and few people understand it unless they've been through it.
There is no magic formula or cure. I keep hearing ignorant people cite suicide as selfish and a choice. That is also false. These tormented people believe that the act will somehow relieve themselves and their loved ones from the pain caused from severe depression. Of course, that's madness too and that's the point. I don't believe a choice is really a choice when it's made under such duress.
It takes reaching out to others and fellowship with people experiencing the same disease to get out of that sort of headspace.
Of all the problems Williams had, there was always his physical humor and lightning fast wit to fall back on. With Parkinson's, he would slowly lose some of that and it must have seemed unbearable.
He lived here in the San Francisco area. I know plenty of people with sweet stories about him. I've yet to hear one unkind word pertaining to him. Just an amazing person with such gratitude. I did spot him once very briefly in a book store near Union Square. This was many years ago. People in the city had a way of letting him be and that's probably why he chose to live here. We will all miss him very much.