For Mac Miller fans, the release of his latest album “Swimming” symbolized a new beginning for the embattled rapper. Resembling more of a personal journal than a traditional rap record, Mac bared his soul in a way that was uncharacteristically positive for his reserved character.

The lyrical content and production often reiterated this new direction, with Miller departing from his usual mix of rap braggadocio and psychedelica in favor of introspective reflections on his drug use, struggles with mental health and the pain of moving on from failed relationships.

Singing over ethereal synths and funk basslines, Mac tried his best to distance himself from the past. This was never more apparent than on album opener “Come Back to Earth,” in which Miller admits  “I was drownin’ , now I’m swimmin’.” And, for the first time since his frat-rap glory days, the Pittsburgh native’s music was giving us reason to believe it.

This belief was cut tragically short. On Sept. 7, paramedics were called to Miller’s Los Angeles residence to find the 26-year-old unresponsive of a suspected overdose. He was pronounced dead on the scene.

The news shocked the music world, with celebrities, musicians, fans and friends offering their condolences over social media. The sudden nature of his death fed a frenzy of internet speculation, with fans falsely blaming everything from Ariana Grande to the glorification of drugs in hip-hop for his passing.

In reality, it is impossible to pinpoint what killed Mac Miller. And while mental health issues have rightly received increased awareness in recent years, the romanticized image of the tortured artist continues to negatively impact creatives.

In the case of Mac Miller, it was obvious he had his demons, but instead of blaming singular events for his passing, we should examine the societal norms that allowed us to turn a blind eye to his struggles. We need to ask ourselves how to deconstruct the obvious double standard facing artists, before this negative stereotype claims anymore lives.