‘It’s going to kill me’ Robbie Williams says music career has worsened his mental health.
The 43-year-old musician joined Take That in 1990 aged 16, and although the star has enjoyed his solo career he thinks the business is “really bad” for his health because of his battle with anxiety and agoraphobia.
The ‘Angels’ hitmaker told The Sunday Times magazine: “This job is really bad for my health. It’s going to kill me. Unless I view it in a different way.”
And the dark-haired heartthrob doesn’t think he would be as mentally unstable as he is if he wasn’t famous.
He explained: “It sprints through my family. I don’t know if I’d be this mentally ill without fame. I don’t think it would be as gross or as powerful if it hadn’t have been for fame. You get a magnifying glass in the shape of the world’s attention and your defects will obviously magnify too.”
But the singer has hailed his wife, Ayda Field, as his saving grace, and he believes she has saved him from a life of ruin, which saw him previously battle alcoholism and substance abuse.
He said: “She has the smarts to know how to not sink the ship, and I just want to sink the ship to see what it looks like.”
But their marriage isn’t just one sided as Robbie has even had his sperm cryogenically frozen to please his partner in case she wants to expand their brood in the future, although the tattooed vocalist doesn’t want a third child at the moment.
The star, who has five-year-old daughter Teddy and two-year-old son Charlie with the ‘Loose Women’ panellist, explained: “We want — and wanted — kids and if I take testosterone, it knocks the swimmers out. If I don’t take testosterone, I feel dreadful. So we had to bank some.
“A lady takes you back to these three rooms. There’s the first room which is soft porn and slightly erotic, then it grades up from room to room. There’s no animal stuff or anything. But there’s a moment when you’re stood with a lady and you have to pick the room to go in. You sort of want to go into three. One’s just not going to do it for you. So, being a people-pleaser, I went into room two. It was hard work.
“I don’t want another one, but I have to weigh up crushing her hopes. I have to weigh up whether my not wanting to have one is worth her heart breaking every time a pram goes past the car when we’re parked at a red light. On a good day, in a tender moment, I would like to see another bom-bom running about.”
