Last week, the world was rocked by the news of “Real Houswives of Beverly Hills” husband Russell Armstrong’s death.
Ok, maybe not the whole world. But mine, for sure.
As a frequent (some may say obsessive) viewer of the Real Housewives series, I pride myself on being able to separate reality TV from actual reality.
So it was certainly a shock to the system when I read that Armstrong, a Housewife’s husband, committed suicide in his Beverly Hills home.
I can only assume the events that unfolded in the months leading up to Armstrong’s death had something to do with his decision to off himself.
After filing for divorce in the middle of July, his estranged wife, Taylor Armstrong, went public with the couple’s many issues.
Very public.
She spoke to People magazine about her frequent disputes with her husband and the physical abuse she suffered. Entertainment news outlets buzzed with the details, and it was soon broadcast across the country.
It’s not hard to understand why a man going through a divorce without a prenup, having his name raked through the mud in a very public fashion and suffering from severe depression — as many news outlets have reported — would consider taking his own life.
It’s all a little too real if you ask me.
Reality shows are meant to be easy to watch. Fluff. Something you watch to take a break from your day.
They shouldn’t have such terrible, life-changing consequences.
Armstrong’s death is only the most recent in a long line of issues that arise for people featured on reality shows.
The first I can think of is the earth-shattering divorce of Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey, but I’m sure there were plenty preceding it.
All this leaves me wondering what it is about reality shows that leads to such issues.
Is it the stress of being followed around by cameras all day? Is it the money they get paid to put their lives in the spotlight? Or have their heads just become giant?
We’re buying into it, too. We watch these shows (myself included) on a nightly basis, and we read up on their stars’ antics in tabloids. We perpetuate the cycle. And we love it.
It actually makes me long for the days of sitcoms and game shows, when the name “Kardsashian” wasn’t plastered all over everything and the only shows shot with handheld cameras were documentaries.
As much as I’d like to bring those days back — and trust me, if I could bring back “The Love Connection,” I would — I know it’s not going to happen. We’ve gone too far down the reality road and there’s no turning back.
But maybe we can put on the brakes a little. Care a little more about the people in our own lives instead of the ones lighting up our television screens. Pay more attention to the nightly news and not “Nanny