Hi, my name is Matthew, although you may know me by another name. My friends call me Matty. And I should be dead. These opening words penned by Matthew Perry in his memoir – Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing – today bear an unforeseen weight.

These words, once inked with the intent of introspection, have now become a poignant epitaph and a reflection of the journey that led us to this sorrowful juncture. In the hushed wake of Matthew Perry’s departure, the world bids adieu to a man whose infectious laughter echoed through living rooms across the globe. While his given name may have been Matthew, to millions, he will forever be the irrepressible Chandler Bing.

With every “Could I BE any more…” and each perfectly timed quip, Perry etched his name into the annals of sitcom history, leaving an ineffaceable mark on our hearts. Yet, beneath the buoyant facade of the lovable sarcastic, there resided a soul marked by a depth of vulnerability and a struggle with inner demons. As we reflect on the man who brought laughter and poignancy to our screens, we remember Matthew Perry not only as a beloved actor, but as an individual whose journey, both on and off-screen, was intertwined with the very essence of human frailty and the pursuit of solace. It was a typical Sunday morning and I had just woken up, with my senses still cloaked in the remnants of slumber. Stirring in bed, I reached for my phone. But, in a matter of seconds, the routine was shattered by a message from a colleague.

His words, stark and unequivocal, jolted me awake with a force that transcended mere wakefulness. “Chandler Bing is no more,” he had written. In that instant, a tidal wave of messages surged into my WhatsApp inbox, bearing the solemn and unfathomable news, each message echoing the same mournful refrain, “Matthew Perry has left us forever”.

My bleary eyes struggled to believe the grim tidings. Was it some cruel trick of the imagination, a dream I could wake from with relief? I yearned for it to be a cruel illusion. Alas, the cruel certainty settled in—Matthew Perry, the beloved architect of countless smiles, had bid us farewell, his journey abruptly concluding at the tender age of 54.

The day marked an unwelcome episode in all of our lives – ‘The One Where We Lost a Friend’. The memory of reading Perry’s memoir, freshly released just last year, kindled a torrent of emotions within me. Delving into its pages, I had found myself frequently overcome by a surge of tears. I even had the privilege of reviewing it for The Statesman, an experience that allowed me to intimately connect with the depths of Perry’s journey.

Reflecting on the Friends Reunion that graced our screens a couple of years ago, it became glaringly apparent that an official gathering would be incomplete without the presence of Chandler Bing. Now, as I contemplate the next time I seek solace in the familiar episodes of Friends, the bittersweet truth will linger – the man who brought Chandler to life is no longer with us.

It’s a heartbreaking realisation that adds an undeniably melancholic layer to each cherished moment on screen. While Perry had ventured into various Hollywood film projects, his enduring legacy is undeniably tied to his iconic portrayal of Chandler Bing in the beloved American sitcom Friends (1994-2004). Throughout Friends, Chandler Bing distinguishes himself through his adept employment of sarcasm, characterised by succinct and witty remarks. Employing humour as a coping mechanism, he frequently employs jests to redirect potentially awkward scenarios or veil his genuine sentiments. This facet of his character is integral to his persona, contributing significantly to the comedic ambiance prevalent in the show.

His ability to turn even the most mundane situations into laugh-out-loud moments was a superpower in its own right. However, beneath Chandler’s exterior of confidence and humour lies a bedrock of profound insecurities. He frequently has feelings of inadequacy and harbours apprehensions towards both commitment and exposing his emotional vulnerabilities.

This leads to the pondering of just how much Matthew Perry’s own life mirrored that of his iconic character, Chandler Bing. In the episode where Mr Heckles passes away, Chandler says, “I’ll end up alone, just like he did”. It’s a striking moment, resonating deeply with viewers. The misery lies in the fact that, in reality, he did find himself in a similar situation, and it’s truly disheartening. Broken relationships, unreciprocated love, dissolved engagement — our man took them all.

Throughout his journey, Perry openly grappled with addiction and substance misuse, a battle that first emerged during his time on Friends. He had been forthright about relying on alcohol and prescription medications as coping mechanisms in the face of the pressures of fame and personal turmoil. Regrettably, these struggles occasionally encroached upon his professional commitments, leading to periods of rehabilitation.

Perry’s candour extended to confessing moments when he found himself unable to recollect filming certain episodes of Friends, underscoring the profound impact of his addiction on his career. In his memoir, he estimated that he spent almost $9 million to become clean, attended 6,000 Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, and underwent detox 65 times. Perry’s tumultuous journey through life, however, began long before the spotlight found him. As the child of divorced parents, he struggled with a sense of estrangement from his own family from an early age.

Remarkably, by the tender age of five, he was already making solo journeys from Montreal to Los Angeles, clutching a sign that boldly proclaimed him an “Unaccompanied Minor”. At 14, Perry stumbled upon the dual revelation that alcohol not only eased his self-consciousness but also bestowed upon him a newfound charm. This initial discovery paved the way for a dangerous reliance on painkillers, with Perry ultimately consuming a staggering 55 tablets each day. Later in his life, overcoming his addiction issues, he embraced the role of an advocate for addiction recovery, drawing from his own personal journey to shine a light on the issue.

He also proactively extended a helping hand to those battling substance abuse, offering steadfast support on their path to sobriety. In Matthew Perry’s passing, we are reminded of the inherent fragility of life, the dichotomy between the public perception and the private battles that individuals face. He leaves behind a legacy of laughter and an indomitable spirit that will forever be etched in the hearts of those he touched.

As we bid our farewell to this remarkable soul, we are left to contemplate the paradox of fame and vulnerability that underscores the human experience, and to hope that Perry now finds the peace he longed for amidst the chaos of a world that often misunderstood his quiet battles. Indeed, it is truly heart-wrenching to confront the words penned by Perry in his memoir, “It is very odd to live in a world where if you died, it would shock people but surprise no one”.

(The writer is a journalist on the staff of The Statesman.)