Holding On

Okay, this has been bothering me so badly, I have to share.

When I heard about Chester Bennington's suicide, I was terribly sad, just as I am whenever I hear of anyone taking their own life.  I was devastated by Robin Williams.  Since I haven't been a huge fan of Linkin Park in the past, I found it odd how much Chester's death has affected me.  I really never listened to their music, but one song of their songs, right after the accident, had gotten right inside my skin, all the way to the bone.  "In The End" embodied every feeling I have had about seeing Cory through her mental health struggles only to lose her in a stupid, freak accident. It spoke my darkest frustrations and guilt about not being able to protect her at the very moment it mattered the most.  Like seriously, what the hell?  Not a single thing I had done up to that point seemed to even matter anymore. Don't placate me by telling me it's not true; let me be angry.  You would be angry, too.   I never really explored any of their other music, and man, did I miss out.

So as I started looking up songs and listening, reading the lyrics, the chills came up my spine, one right after another.  It was a complete tragedy that someone who has obviously given a voice to those who struggle with their mental health is now gone.  I began to wonder if he was in treatment.  Had he quit?  Was he on meds?  Did he stop taking them?

I watched an interview where he described some of mental health struggles.  He said this:  "Music is what has kept me alive."  Panic erupted all over my body in icy waves, each larger than the last.  His coping skill stopped working?  All I could think about is how I KNOW, KNOW, KNOW that writing and art are what have kept me alive since Cory died.  What if someday writing and art aren't enough anymore?   My scalp began shrinking on my head and I could feel all the hairs on my arms suddenly stand to attention.

I went from my normal response of sadness, empathy, and  anger towards the  idiots who say suicide is selfish to being scared out of my fucking mind.

I have never lost someone I love to suicide. But I have watched people I love cope with losing someone they love to suicide and that's a special walk of hell I hope to never see.  I have deeply loved people who have battled depression and suicidal thinking:  Cory's father, Jake's father, and Cory.  I have battled it myself.

Unless you have been that close, in that dark, dark place, where the flames are burning your flesh everyday, all day long, while other people walk around oblivious, maybe you don't realize that how much you love other people aren't enough to keep you here.  You think I didn't love my son?  My dear, sweet parents?  My sisters?  My friends?  I loved them more than I could ever explain, but they were not reason enough to stay.  In my mind, I had already worked out all the ways they'd be better off without me or how I might even make things worse for them by staying.  All I knew is that I couldn't bear the pain anymore.  I wanted it to end, regardless of the price.  Let me out.  Please let me out of here.

It was developing coping skills that helped me manage the pain that gave me the strength to go on.  Yes, my mom provided me unparalleled understanding. Yes, Jacob has provided me purpose.  But in the end, at night, when my head is on that pillow, and the image of Cory torn up on that road rises it up yet again...her arm twisted in on itself...her legs dirty...her hair in her face...the blood...her lips so blue...well, Jacob and my Mom can't help me with that.  Those images and the suffocating guilt that plague my mind day in and day out are mine alone to battle.  It was writing and art that have helped me process that trauma and combat all the triggers.  The thought that one day they won't work anymore?  Absolutely terrifying.

So as I read this over, I can see that Chester's suicide has triggered my own past dealings with suicidal thinking.  I hope it doesn't have a ripple effect on others out there who may currently be struggling or have struggled in the past.  All I can say if it does, I beg you to please talk about it.  Please tell someone.  Let someone hold you up.  Keep trying.  And if you feel like one day it's not enough, please seek professional help and don't stop until you are past the crisis and able to think more clearly.  It's a tragedy what has happened to Chester...for him and all of his loved ones and all of us who have benefited from the sheer genius of his coping skill.  In short, keep holding on.  You are have so much to give.