RIP Keith Flint

"If people find me scary, fuck 'em."

Today the horrible news broke that Keith Flint, the singer from The Prodigy, had died, according to his bandmate Liam Howlett by suicide, at the age of 49.

Whilst I was never a hardcore fan of The Prodigy, Keith made a big impression of me. I'll never forget being a wee boy and watching the video for Firestarter - those wild, piercing eyes almost burning a hole through the TV screen, the stars-and-stripes top and the double-mohawk. Then there was the song itself - the venom and vitriol behind his lyrics. There was something about it which resonated with me. The raw energy behind their songs and seeing how much the three of them put into their work.

Sadly this once again brings us to another situation where we are mourning another tragic loss. Once again it is only after the passing of someone that the conversation about depression and mental health begins for most. It was the same after Robin Williams, after Chris Cornell and after Chester Bennington. We need to start addressing all areas of mental health in an open and sincere manner. Encouraging people to reach out, whilst a good starting point, is simply not enough. There often isn't enough support there for someone after they do reach out in terms of treatment and support, and the stigma attached to the subject often puts many off reaching out in the first place. We need to start having uncomfortable and difficult conversations.

If you are struggling, please do reach out. Please have these conversations. Please keep fighting. Admitting you are fighting this battle is not an admission of defeat nor is it a sign of weakness; it is a show of strength. Fighting this battle is a scary thing to do, but you shouldn't feel scared to admit you're fighting it.

If anyone makes you feel that way, fuck 'em.

Fuck it and fight it.
RIP Keith Flint.

One More Light

A year ago today I was starting to come out of one of the darkest chapters in my life in the wake of a severe depressive episode at the end if spring/start of summer. I was walking home from work and jumped into a takeaway at the foot of Leith Walk for my dinner. Whilst I was waiting for my food, I checked my phone and saw the awful news that Chester Bennington had passed away.

Whilst I wasn't what you would call a die-hard fan of Linkin Park, they were a band that you would find on every one of my CDs, mp3s, spotify playlists, whatever. The first CD I ever bought with my own pocket money was Hybrid Theory and it helped open up a world to me in which I met many wonderful people and made many friends I most likely wouldn't have otherwise met. Friends I still have to this day.

Their music and lyrics, particularly on Hybrid Theory, Meteora & Minutes To Midnight, helped me through the times when I thought my depression was just teenage angst and my anxiety was something that could be easily overcome. The emotion he put into his work resonated with me, and as I learned more about his past struggles the more I appreciated this.

I remember sitting in this takeaway, my mouth agog, scrolling through the internet trying to find something to say that this wasn't true. That it was some hideous rumour doing the rounds. That something had happened but he wasn't actually dead. It was only after a few hours that I began to accept it. I hadn't found it this difficult to accept the passing of other idols who had died by suicide, such as Robin Williams or Chris Cornell who had died a month or so prior to Chester. I had been saddened but I didn't go through this stage of denial. It hadn't hurt this much.

It was in the aftermath of Chester's passing that I decided to open up about my mental health. Hearing him talk about his battles and seeing how they had been a source of comfort to not just him but many others fighting those same demons, inspired me to talk about my own battles.

If you are feeling down or you are in a bad place, please talk to someone. Friends, family, a doctor, message me if you want to. If you're in the UK you can call Samaritans (116 123) or if you're in Scotland there is also Breathing Space (0800 83 85 87) if you want to talk to someone. The world can be a dark place. Your light makes it brighter for so many people.

Fuck it and fight it.

RIP Chester.

Conversations

People can be properly morbid can't they?

Whenever someone dies suddenly or in unexplained circumstances the first thought among everyone appears to be "how did they die? Did they do themselves in?"

Look at the reactions to the recent deaths of Dolores O'Riordan and Dale Winton. Only after they've gone do people seem to en masse give a shit about their mental health.

It's easier to discuss the mental health of someone who's no longer here than that of someone who's living because there's nothing that can be done to help them. It's easier to discuss what could have been done than what can be done because it can be a fucking uncomfortable conversation. For someone who's never visited that black place it can be extremely difficult to even get a sense of how life is for someone who lives there and try to help them out of it.

But it's surely better having one tough conversation with someone as opposed to endless sad conversations about them.

If you know someone who's in that black place please talk to them. From my experience even the daftest wee conversation can make a massive difference to that person.

Love each other.
Fuck it and fight it.