The first time I examined these feelings was when I learned of the suicide of Jonathan Brandis in 2003, the teenaged charmer who played Lucas on SeaQuest. I was a fan of that show and watched it regularly when it aired. He was only 27 years old when he died.

Though not officially ruled a suicide, but definitely a case of gone before his time, I have been thinking alot about Corey Haim lately, who I never really gave much thought to before.

I have enjoyed his movies, but a movie only represents a moment in time when a team came together to make a film. You never really follow all the people involved in a film to see where and how they end up in life. You never really give much thought to the people who appeared in the film, once the film is over.

They ride off into the sunset of a Hollywood happy ending, and that's it. I think there's a subconscious feeling in non-actors, loosely tied to our concepts of success and the American dream that says, "Hey, he makes movies. He's rich and famous. He gets the girls. That's a far more exciting life than I'll ever have. He's got it made." Then you simply move onto the next thing in life and don't give it a second thought.

Unless of course, one of them dies before their time. Then we take notice. And we scratch our heads and ask why. They seemed to have it all. They seemed to have everything going for them. Why would they take their own life, or otherwise die before their time?

Last night I sat down to watch Haim's breakout starring-role film, "Lucas." I was all set to hate it, having concluded that the Hollywood life is simply too hard on its young stars. I ended up loving the film, and being very glad they made it. It had so much heart. But hating Hollywood for this is simply too convenient an answer, too easy a scapegoat. I obviously had some more thinking to do on the subject.

I thought about one of my all-time favorite films, "My Bodyguard," starring 16-year-old Chris Makepeace and 18-year-old Adam Baldwin, his first film and Makepeace's third. It was a great coming-of-age film that taught you had to learn to stand up for yourself one day, and not hide behind your protectors. Did I wish they had never made that film? No. Has anything bad happened to either Chris or Adam because of fame early in life? Not that I am aware of.

As a young person growing up, I realized how important films can be in helping you sort out your identity issues. We all need relatable characters, heroes to look up to, and people on the screen who seem to be going through the same things we are. Being a teenager and trying to find out who you are in the world is hard enough for most people, without the added pressures of being under the glare of the spotlight, where every imperfection you have is magnified publicly. You do trade privacy for fame, and while non-actor kids get to through their growing pains in private, a teen actor's troubles frequently get blasted on the pages of newspapers and magazines at a time when they have enough problems of their own just trying to grow up.

By the time a non-actor kid becomes an adult, he's gotten at least some idea that fame in Hollywood is fleeting, and only the really lucky or talented can hold onto it for very long. Even then, those cases are rare. That's why we see so many new faces at the movies every year.

But what if you are sorting out your identity issues of growing up while you're on the inside of Hollywood, making films for a living? You are suddenly catapulted into fame, fortune, and the spotlight, and because you're young while this happens, you have no adult perspective on Hollywood itself. You are not emotionally or intellectually equipped to make the distinction between real life and the fleeting fantasy of Hollywood.

You think it's going to last forever, and then one day you find yourself in your thirties, unable to get work in the business you grew up in. The change from being in the spotlight one day and washed up the next is too extreme for most people to deal with without getting some outside help. And getting the help of a mental health professional unfortunately still carries enough of a stigma to some that it may prove as a deterrent.

Some teen actors adjust to this beautifully, knowing in advance that it won't last. They finish college, get degrees, prepare for life as if they weren't going to be in the film business, and when their moment in the spotlight is over, they are properly equipped to start a new career doing something other than acting for a living.

I am reminded of Peter Ostrum, who was 14 years old when he starred in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory with Gene Wilder. In one of the special feature interviews included on the DVD, Ostrum spoke about observing how hard the professional actors on the set worked, how early they had to get up in the morning, how devoted they had to be to their craft. He decided then and there in his 14-year-old mind that this was not the life for him.

He went on to become a veterinarian in upstate New York. But most 14-year-olds are not this introspective. For most teen actors, I would say the attention and adulation of Hollywood can easily can go to their heads and create a false sense of who they are, at a time when they are least able to see any arguments against it. Stage parents compound the issue because they get blinded by the glare of Hollywood as well, and help to foster the child's unrealistic image of himself, rather than grounding him in the real world and teaching him a healthy detachment from getting so caught up in such a fickle profession.

Other teen actors move from being in front of the camera to being behind the camera, directing or participating in some behind-the-scenes aspect of the business, where it doesn't matter as much what they look like anymore.

In Haim's case, he was still fighting to hold onto his former glory as he got older, and was no longer the adorable teenager he was in the late 80s when he made his most memorable films. He talked of making a comeback, even appearing in two films that would release in 2010, but never regained his star status.

From watching an episode of "The Two Coreys," a reality show starring Haim and Corey Feldman, you get the sense that returning to films as a star again was very important to him. He wanted very much to work in Hollywood again. Unfortunately it was not very important to Hollywood, and that's the part he was in denial about. In a way it is like unrequited love. You've never stopped loving them, but they don't love you anymore. On some level, it's gotta hurt very deeply, unless you've got some alternative, healthier way to develop your sense of self worth.

Did he try to develop his other talents, work behind the scenes, or go to college and trying focusing on a different career path other than acting? In his IMDb bio, it says he produced six films and directed one. My suspicion, however, is that he never really got over being a teen in the spotlight, and probably did not pursue other career paths as vigorously as he did stardom. I don't think he ever took acting lessons to improve his craft, or try out for stage productions as other actors routinely do. Fame came easily to him as a teenager. He didn't have to struggle for it.

Later in life, he didn't have the work ethic burned into him that other actors get when they go through the various stages of classroom studio training, stage acting, and film work. I heard one opinion about him on the radio that said he never got better as an actor as he got older. But, he did lose his adorable cuteness as he aged. And that may have been the thing that Hollywood was most interested in. When that was gone, they were no longer interested. Hollywood moved on, and Haim should have too, but he didn't. The question is, why do some teen actors know to move on, while others don't?

And that's the crux of it right there. Like it or not, life changes for all of us. It might change suddenly, right out from under us, or we may see it coming a long way off and prepare for it. As we age, not all changes are for the best. But the people who are most equipped to survive as these changes come upon us are flexible enough to embrace these changes and make some changes of their own, so they won't be forced to accept what life gives them. They make their own way in life. They don't let life dictate what they are going to be in the eyes of the world.

Life doesn't always turn out the way we want. For a person with depressive tendencies, it is critical to develop healthy alternative interests that keep us grounded and engaged in life. Preferably interests that aren't predicated on what people think of us. Sure, we'd all like to be successful and appreciated in the world to some degree, but at some point you have to realize that the world ultimately doesn't care about you. Some people in your life may care a great deal about you, but interest from employers, your adoring public, and the press may come and go. That doesn't necessarily mean that you have to go as well, when your time in the spotlight is over. Going on, and fading from public view are not necessarily one and same thing.