In The End...

Aside from a dislike of elevators, I’ve never been claustrophobic, but as I have gotten older there have been a few instances where I have been overcome with a hot panicky sweat at being trapped somewhere. As I stood in my hospital robes next to the huge MRI scanner, I knew I needed something to focus on during the impending thirty minutes or so that I would be in the confined space. The nurse handed me a sheet of paper with various musical offerings to listen to: Adele – no thanks, Classical Hits – not for me. It didn’t look good. However whilst looking at my options there was only one thing which grabbed my attention; Linkin Park Greatest Hits.

As I laid there in the scanner, the hot panic hit me within a matter of moments. Stuck in this machine, consumed with a anxiety of being trapped. Then, in my headphones came the sounds of Linkin Park. I had envisioned that the music and vocals would drown out the machine as it scanned by brain, but it wasn’t as loud as I was hoping. However, I was able to focus on the music and singing, such a beautiful voice and powerful screams, and I was able to remove myself from that scanner, and take myself back in my memories to seeing them perform live in Abu Dhabi, back in 2010. Soon the sweaty panic passed and before I knew it, about eight songs had played, and the scan had finished. Losing myself in Linkin Park had again got me through a shitty moment in time in my life, which had been on mind since the appointment was booked.

Two days later I learnt via Twitter, that Linkin Park lead singer, Chester Bennington had taken his own life. It hit me like a ton of bricks, another one taken too soon. This man had been a huge part of my life for over fifteen years. I had listened to his music all too regularly. On the train, in the car, on the street, in the gym, or more often than not, when i wasn't feeling too happy in myself.

Like many teenagers, I had a phase where I questioned my existence. I felt low, I felt depressed, I felt worthless. Consumed by anxiety, I had just changed schools, and felt ugly and I felt dumb. I would spend a lot of time alone, and basically felt very sorry for myself.

During a Napster session in 2000 (sorry but we all did it!), I downloaded ‘In The End’ based on how popular the file was. Having not listened to Metal music before I was prepared to delete the file after hearing only a few seconds like I had done with other downloaded songs, however based on the intro alone I knew I would like this particular track. As the song continued, I immediately liked Mike Shinoda’s rap style, and when the chorus came in I had goose pimples. Chester’s voice was like something I hadn’t known before. How could someone sing so beautifully and then let out a real rock element like that? I listened again, and again and again. With each listen I would try to listen carefully to the lyrics. The lyrics to ‘In The End’ served as a release to me. I was able to sing and rap along to the song, which seemed to resonate.

“Ive put my trust in you, pushed as far as I can go, for all this, there’s only one thing you should know. Ive tried so hard, and got so far, but in the end it doesn’t even matter. I had to fall to lose it all, but in the end it doesn’t even matter.”

This chorus made me think of my relationship with so many people. My teachers, my parents, my friends, those I secretly envied and wanted to be like. I was looking to be anyone else but myself.  The song was definitely part of my coming of age, and accepting the person I was. Theres only so much you can do to please others.. I didn’t need to change for anyone else. Other people’s opinions didn’t matter.

Fast forward ten years, and I was living and working in Abu Dhabi, UAE. As the post-race concerts for the Formula1 event were announced, I was delighted to see Linkin Park would be performing, having never seen them live before. Other songs of theirs had become favourites of mine – Numb, Crawling, Papercut, Faint, and One Step Closer to name a few. The day came round and I felt honoured to witness this band perform. It was literally one of the greatest live concerts I had attended. As they played ‘In The End’, the goosebumps came back as they always do to that song, but this time I looked back at all that I have achieved in the ten years from first hearing the track. I felt embarrassed to be in such a large crowd, overcome by emotion. But the beauty of that moment was that I was one of a number of thousands of people relating to that song right there.

Chester’s vocals were as impressive in real life as they were on CD.

Over the years, I have suffered from anxiety, loneliness and depression. As I have aged, I have understood a little more about how to break this feeling and to express myself. So many people have these issues, and music is a great form of escapism. In Linkin Park, I found an outlet who seemed to sing what I was feeling.

 A few weeks ago, a friend posted Facebook live videos of Linkin Park performing live from the O2 arena in London. Little did they know that they were going to be one of the final audiences to witness them live. I was completely jealous that they were there. They sounded awesome. Chester looked and sounded great. Weeks later, and he is no longer with us.

A man who despite his public acknowledgments of depression, seemed to have everything in place around him: a world famous band, millions of adoring fans, a large loving family, the respect of his industry. He had influenced more people than he would ever realise. A voice which gave chills. Only 41 years of age.

Coincidentally the same age that my uncle took his own life who will be Forever In Our Hearts.

Many people have views and thoughts about his final action. But ultimatley it was the demons in his mind that took control. He had spoke about how he had been abused as a child, he fought a long running battle with alcohol and drug addiction. He was open about his depression, and his music really served as a mirror into his world. The suicide of close friend Chris Cornell hit him hard, and he was found dead on the day that would have been Cornell’s birthday.

Much was written about Linkin Park's last record, One More Light. For me, I liked the new sound. I appreciated the difference. Many have called it Chester's suicide note, there for the world to see. Songs like Heavy offer a real insight to his mental state at time of writing. The title track One More Light was written in about a friend who had passed away. It was ever so poignant after the passing of Cornell, especially in the Jimmy Kimmel performance; and the way that LP performed it was as painful and grief filled as you could imagine. Listening to this song after Chester's passing absolutely wrecks me. Such a beautifully true expression of grief in one song. Beyond heartbreaking. You can see his pain within, in the way that Chester performed this in his final gigs, especially the Birmingham show, singing directly to the members of the audience.

Thank you for the music Chester, I wish that you didn’t have to take this tragic course of action. My heart is broken for your family, friends and band mates. I find a slight solace that your children will have so much footage of you at their finger tips, and that your music was an insight into your life. But that does not and will never replace having their daddy in their lives.

It shows the impact that a man had on the world, when millions grieve for the person who they have never personally met. But we all felt we knew you. You leave us with a vast musical catalogue, ensuring that your powerful, vulnerable, angry, emotional voice will forever be heard.

Your passing topped off what had been a pretty shitty week for me. Having been fearful for my health, and learning of the murder of my niece’s father, it pushed me into a level of negativity which I struggled to deal with. So i blogged about it.

There is always someone out there to talk to. If you have suicidal thoughts, seek help.

Who cares if one more light goes out? Well I do.

#FuckDepression #MakeChesterProud

A Stream of Consciousness..

As I sit down to allow a brief stream of consciousness to leave my fingertips into my computer, there is a lot that I feel I need to, and can write about at the moment. For quite a while I have struggled with what to write about with this blog. The blog itself has served as my release of emotions when I have needed it to. Although I have dear friends, I do not necessarily have a large network of people around me of whom I can confide in about certain sort of things. Only recently have I found a few people in the workplace who have shown a considerable caring nature towards my happiness, and who have encouraged me to get things off of my chest.

However despite this, I have still avoided writing this post if I am honest.

It is hard to describe to people the emotions I have been feeling in the past ten days or so. Never in my life have I felt so unsure and unsettled, compared to these preceding days.

There have been four huge things which are ongoing which are, and will be, major events in my life.

Then there has been one event which has served as a trigger to my negative mind state. All five together at the same time, and the result is that my head is a little all over the place. So I think it is important that I address them in order to allow myself to fully understand what is going on.

The reasons for this rollercoaster of emotions have been multifaceted. Each of the subjects which are grabbing the focus of my attention are completely personal, relating to my family, and the fear of not being there for them. Old feelings and concerns have been raised, and a sense of trying to manage the grief that others are feeling is overwhelming. 

These feelings have been bouncing around inside my head, crashing against one another, with some dominating the other at times, but with all playing on my mind simultaneously. It feels like a combustible mix that I need to address.

Outwardly I have trying to keep it together, putting on a brave face at times in order to portray an appearance that I am being strong for those around me. However, privately I have needed to get my views out to avoid waves upon waves of downheartedness and negativity consuming me. It is getting harder and harder to shrug off the sadness.

I am planning on addressing each of the five things in my blog in varying degrees.

The first thing was health scare. I have been struggling with and complaining about headaches for a good few months. These headaches were unlike migraines, and were only affecting two specific parts of my head. I had been taking paracetamol to manage these, but concerned at how regular they were occurring. Then over the last few weeks I noticed I was losing the ability to recall certain words in specific situations. Something a mundane as cutting the lawn and I would forget the word for lawnmower for example.  Around the same time I noticed I would drop things quite easily, which was out of character for me. The door keys, my phone, and other everyday objects would slip out of my grasp without me noticing. Then the final incident was a fortnight ago, when I was walking to the train station in the morning, when all of a sudden I was on wet muddy pavement, having fallen over for no apparent reason. This concerned my partner and I, and I googled what the symptoms could be. I know you shouldn’t ever do that. But I am glad I did. I then saw a GP immediately and was referred to a Neurologist who sent me for immediate tests and booked an MRI. The next day I spent 30mins in a MRI machine, listening to Linkin Park’s greatest hits in an attempt to drown out the noise. The results were back that evening, and I was given the all clear in regards to any tumours or things in my brain which shouldn’t be there. This was a relief to say the least. Further examinations will be required, but at least the big scary thing has been ruled out.

Two of the things which I feel I need to talk about are linked and will need to be addressed carefully out of respect for the people involved and the ongoing situation. It is to do with the death of someone in my extended family and the effect of their loss on a specific loved one in particular. The story is a heart-breaking one to tell, and still feels raw and surreal. The incident only happened seven days ago, and not all of the facts have emerged. Some reports are vague, others misleading and there are final parts of the event still to happen. But there are still actions that are needed from me and my family to keep things together for others. I will need to give more thought into that post, than opposed to my usual writing style.

One is a thing I am super excited about, but still completely scared of once again.

The final one will deal with another unexpected loss. However this time to someone I have never met, but whose influence had a huge impact. The way in which this individual died has triggered feelings in me which have caused me to reflect and be saddened by.

Once again, I hope that by writing these blogs, I can feel a sense of release. I feel annoyed at myself for only having this outlet. But it has helped in the past, hopefully it helps again.

Back Where My Story Began...

At the weekend, I celebrated my 34^th birthday. I had a number of the boys from my core friendship group, their partners and kids round to our new home for a BBQ in the back garden. My son was delighted to have a host of new playmates to keep him occupied running in and out of the paddling pool, up and down the slide, and in and out of the play room. My partner and I were more than happy to play host. It was a great day and amazing to catch up with the group. Since becoming a father, finding the time and money to have a get together with the boys has been harder to do. My priorities have changed somewhat. When you live on a budget each month, justifying a drinking session with the boys when bills need to be paid becomes problematic. It seems like I only get to see them for big occasions. But I guess that is life now. You do not need to see people every weekend for them to still be in your life.

For the most part, these guys have been in my life for a good ten years or more, some even longer. Our group has evolved in that time, with the main core having gone to school together, and others like me being friends with people within the group and joining the group along the way. We have seen break ups, new partners, weddings, babies, house moves, relocations abroad and many nights out.

But as I turn the grand old age of 34, I am back living in my parents’ house where I grew up, the house which most of my memories are from. The house, where we as a family have celebrated and mourned, where I have loved and lost. The house where I sat with my Grandmother during her final weeks, watching the fox cubs play in the garden. The dining room where I would listen to my Granddad sing aloud, as he listened to the Rat Pack whilst having a beer after his Christmas dinner. The kitchen with the fridge I would raid, as soon as my Mum had filled it with the weekly shop. The house where my Dad would give me piggy backs up the stairs as a kid. The house with the small box bedroom, where I would spend hours questioning everything, developing my own views and ideas about what I would do with my life.

I am back where my story began. Back home.

I am extremely grateful to now raising my own family there. My young son at two years old, exploring the world around him, chasing the squirrels and pigeons from the garden, my amazing partner who is always there for us, growing our unborn second baby, who will be ready to make their grand entrance in August. My parents, having relocated to a quieter life a few hours outside of London, have been amazing to give me a chance to save some money so that we can one day afford our ‘Forever Home’. We currently, as a family have the chance to make our own memories. I hope that my birthday BBQ in my back garden is the first of many great ones in my old house.

With moving back to where I was raised, I have been thinking more about old friends and the good times. We were a good bunch of boys united by our love of football and as we got older, beer, parties and girls. It is easy to reflect and remember stories about our childhood and teenage years.

I had many birthday parties in that same back garden. The best of which has to be in the summer of 1999, for my 16^th Birthday. It came at the end of a week where our group had been sitting our GCSE exams, and only a few weeks after a local car crash which had resulted in the loss of five young lives, including a really popular boy from the year above. There were easily over 50 teenagers in that garden, with a DJ, loud music and lots of drinking, dancing and laughing. We were enjoying being young. That night we really did party like it was 1999! Our neighbours can’t have approved, as the police were called and we were told to turn the volume down. I was lucky to have various friendship groups in attendance that night. Friends from Primary school, from Secondary school, from the local area, all came together to have a great time. A night that will live with me forever.

My oldest friends were from Primary school. All local to one area, the majority of our Fathers knew each other. We were allowed to drink in the local pub from the age of 15, as the owners placed the responsibilities of our actions to our Dads. The day we collected our GCSE results, we were in the Crossways pub, in South East London, comparing our results. By the day I was able to buy my first legal pint of lager, I had been a regular in the pub for around three years. That can be said for all of us in that group which had evolved from the local Primary school. Every Thursday for Karaoke without fail. By the end, the youngsters had taken over the pub on a Thursday, as it was so busy with under age drinkers!

As I have said in a previous blog post, I have time for anyone who has time for me. Years may pass, but the memories, love and respect will always be there. The group from my earliest memories will always be linked to my first home, and have played a huge part in my life. Over the years, I have lost regular contact with many of those boys. However, the bond is always there and in my opinion always will be. I had a great lunch catch up with one of my best friends from Primary school days today. We laughed as remembered various stories, and how we discussed the people we once knew around that time. For the most part, everyone in that group has found a form of happiness and relative success. It is good to know we have done well. Those days in the Crossways Pub must have served us well.