I feel like I understand, as much as a person who has never met another person or been in their shoes can understand, why he made the choice he did, given his life and his brain. In a weird way, I'm almost grateful that he made the choice himself, rather than having it taken from him by outside circumstances.
Where I normally need a waiting period between news of death and watching the actor/actress's work again, I find myself wanting to have a marathon of Robin Williams' work. I keep thinking of movies that were huge parts of my childhood...Hook, Fern Gully, Mrs. Doubtfire, Bicentennial Man, Mork and Mindy (not a movie, but still a big part of my kid-dom), all not just favorites but repeatedly watched and re-watched to the point of obsessive memorization favorites. I feel like celebrating his life, rather than mourning this tragedy.
My heart breaks that a man who could provide such joy to so many could not find it himself. And yet I don't feel like I need to do any searching for the "why". It just is. It is sad, but it is.