On Linkin Park and salvation

Many of the best folks are fucked up. Not in a bad way. Just, like, screwed on wrong. Maybe like a badly screwed on light bulb. Or a wobbly mobile phone charger. It works for a bit and then it doesn't. And the constant on and off can be annoying but that's not the worst part. It can eventually break the device or fry the bulb.
Many of the best folks were the most annoying teenagers. Like the whiney, emo types nobody particularly wanted to hang out with. Ones who would have these down episodes only their diaries would care for.
Many of those fucked up emo teenagers never grow up to believe they are those best folks. Or good. Or even good enough. Many of them don't grow up at all.

My saftey net

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When I was 18 I was in high school and I received a phone call from my sister that one boy I went to primary school with died. Deth by suicide. It wasn't just any boy though. I loved that boy. And he was the most awesome kid. Until this day one of the best guys I ever met. He was smart. Brilliant. He read books. I use to get all my 5 friends series from him. He drove a skateboard all over Vodice so I would hide in the bushes after school to see him skateboard in the center. He wrote beautifully. He was good at math. He was good at sports. He was really friendly, not a typical ''vodiški momak''. He listened to the most awesome music. He used to make tapes for me, like Gibonni and The Beatles. He was nice to me but in the ''be nice to the awkward girl in class'' kind of way, he never returned the romantic side but I nevertheless loved him for years.

Should've stayed, were there signs, I ignored?
Can I help you, not to hurt, anymore?
We saw brilliance, when the world, was asleep
There are things that we can have, but can't keep

There were luckily no social networks back then. I use to call him from the payphone for his birthday. He would have turn 29 in two weeks. But he won't. He died at the age of 17. I wish I could have saved him. I often thought, later in life, if I called him more often or if I wrote to him and told him I really loved him he would have stayed. But the problem of being a fucked up annoying teenager is that you can't save anybody because you can bearly save yourself.
But when I was 18 I thought he was just incredibly brave to go away by choice. I was in a phase that was so bad it's still not easy to write about. I have grown since then and learned to cope with it. I did, however, stay awkward and annoying and overly emotional. I just never will understand the universe for letting such genius and kind and brilliant folks, who could have given so much more, go and keeping others, keeping assholes, who have no apparent purpose on this planet but to make everybody's lives miserable

I want to be in another place
I hate when you say you don't understand
I want to be in the energy, not with the enemy
A place for my head

I often say my husband was the one who really saved my life. He stirred me in the right direction. And my friends helped me a lot. They are still to this day here. My safety net. I don't know why but all those awesome folks not only liked me, despite me, but stayed. And loved me. And love me still. My Luka. And my Matejas. My Tajana and my Ivana. Some of you reading this even know them and know the level of awesomness I'm talking about here.

But more often than not, when you are 18 and such tragedy touches your life in a way, you don't see all those people wanting to be there for you. Said stays true throughout the life for folks struggling with depression. You just don't tend to see the good. You don't see the good in you. You don't see the good around you. And you don't see the good hands being there prepared to catch you or to hug you or too high five you for being an awesome bastard.

Sitting in an empty room
Trying to forget the past
This was never meant to last
I wish it wasn't so

I started struggling with these demons when I was like 11, 12. Very early on. I often felt like there was no one. But then came he. He could speak softly. And shout. And I felt he was like this voice I didn't have. I didn't have it at home. When I was in primary school I wasn't the popular kid so I didn't have it there either. But he, he was fierce. And he understood. He knew exactly what I was going through.
I didn't have a computer and youtube was not a thing then so I had to wait for the foreign playlist hosted by a local celebrity host Samir Milla on local radio Ritam and record it on tape. I remember the happiness I felt when my dad drove me to Bosnia and there, on the market they had all these tapes so I bought Meteora. I was happy like a pig in the mud.
That guy, Chester Bennington. He saved my life so many times. So many times.

There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
Consuming, confusing
This lack of self control I fear is never ending
Controlling
I can't seem
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
I've felt this way before
So insecure

I use to see all these people bowling over celebrity deaths online and I was like, wtf are you crying about you didn't even know the guy but when I saw Chester died and googled a hundred times if it was a hoax, and to my despair, it was not, I was seriously shaking. I just came back from a month-long stay in a hospital far from home and the new album was literally what got me through it.
I started to break towards the end of my hospitalization for my cerebrospinal fluid leak and I remember this young doctor came to me and asked me if I maybe wanted to talk to someone and I was like no, I just want to be alone and listen to Linkin Park and he said ''yeah that's probably a better idea.'' I listened to 'Nobody can save me' for a million times in that few days between them saying that they cant really help me and me finally going home.

Stare into this illusion
For answers yet to come
I chose a false solution
But nobody proved me wrong
At first hallucination
I wanna fall wide awake
Watch the ground giving way now
You tell me it’s alright
Tell me I’m forgiven
Tonight
But nobody can save me now

I was sad. I cried. I couldn't believe it. I often wonder if he knew how many lives he saved? He saved so many. Just scrolling through Youtube comments after his death gives you the glimpse of it. Every other comment was a thank you for saving my life. Thank you for understanding when no one else did. Sometimes when you go through shit just the notion of someone out there saying ''Yeah, I get you. Listen to my voice, listen to this lyrics, it's the same shit.'' Maybe we didn't know Chester but he sure as hell knew us. If there is a heaven, and I sure hope there is, he is up there as Chester the savior. Just to think about how many folks he helped to make it through the same shit that he found was too big of a burden to bare. It's mindblowing. Why do best folks always go away? I have a special compassion for folks who die by suicide. Like Chester and Robin Wiliams. I feel that could have been me. I fear sometimes it still could if the depression kicks in again. But I'll do my best it doesn't. Those folks aren't cowards. They are not weak. If anyone ever struggled with severe depression then you know how hard it is. How unbearable it can become. It really fucking sucks. And if you ever say or think that only cowards die by suicide you are a fucking idiot.

Now, today, from my motherly shoes I found the old Linkin Park albums to be pretty detrimental. They resonated but never quite sang about the afterlife, like in the newer albums where hope was palpable. A year, or so, ago my brother gave me the gift that was 21 Pilots. They reminded me of Linkin Park, not because of the style or quality, but because of the emotion and the endless experimentation with different genres. The mash up was what got my ear and lyrics were what got my heart. And what I really, as a mother, appreciate in 21 Pilots is that they always sing about how things get better and will be better. They are a few shades more optimistic then Linkin Park. If I would call Linkin Park fierce I would call 21 Pilots lovely. So I encourage you to listen to them too. Here are some of my favorites: Guns for hands, Ode to sleep , Migraine, HeavyDirty soul and one that reminds me of my daughter, Oh, miss believer . This was a really tough call. As was the choice of Linkin Park lyrics for the post. I think if I was ever to be in need of a psychiatric assessment I'll just bring in a bunch of Linkin Park and 21 Pilots songs and tell them to listen because that's my mind singing right there.

I never really planned this post. I actually had a jolly post about kids books planned but yesterday I decided to watch the tribute concert Linkin Park had for Chester back in October. They had this star stunned guest list of all this amazing artist I listen and still listen to like Johnathan Davis from Korn or Blink 182 or Sum 41 or Alanis Morissette or Bebe Rhexa, to name a few. And all these memories and thoughts and feelings came bursting in. I had to put them somewhere. I am really careful about writing stuff that is too personal. I have this feeling that everything I write can and will be used against me. Like in the song Heavy.

You say that I'm paranoid
But I'm pretty sure the world is out to get me
It's not like I make the choice
To let my mind stay so fucking messy

But being the awkward, annoying, whiny, overly emotional, forever 16, adult I am kind of convinced the percentage of folks that read my post is fairly low. But if you do read and if you do find yourself feeling like I do, or like I did. Or like Chester did. Or like Robbie did. Or like Cris Cornel did. Or like the beautiful soul from my childhood did. Or any of the wonderful folks who just couldn't handle it, look for help. It's ok to say I can't and I need help.

There is probably a suicide helpline where you live. In the US there is a 24hour phone number you can call. It's 1-800-273-8255.
In Croatia, that number is 0800 123 123 and you can call them every day from 10 am till 10 pm

Everything you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe
'Cause I'm one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break

Even if you are not so low, as to not wanting to be here, help is always there if you feel depressed or sad or if you have anxiety or panic attacks. I mostly write to mothers and about motherhood, and postpartum depression is no fucking joke and it often goes unnoticed and untreated. And when I say unnoticed I mean unnoticed by health professionals and the society at large because the women notice. And their families notice and they struggle the best they can. But sometimes they can't do it on their own and they cave in. It shouldn't be that way.

Do you feel cold and lost in desperation
You build up hope but failure's all you've known
Remember all the sadness and frustration
And let it go, let it go

And if you aren't the one down be the helping hand. Be the one who hugs a friend or the one who lends a helping hand to a new mother or the one giving your awesome, awkward friend a fucking high five. I know how incredibly annoying depressed friends and family members can be. Trust me, I live with me for 30 years now. But you could lose them. According to American Foundation for Suicide Prevention suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the US. In Croatia, that number is luckily declining since the end of the war. In Japan tho, it's becoming more and more of an Issue. There was a scandal a few weeks ago including an idiot American YouTuber who found a dead body in the suicide forest. It's happening so often. 70 souls die from suicide in Japan daily. DAILY. Half of us don't even have 70 friends on Facebook. Maybe you aren't ready for therapy yet but then talk to a priest, a hodža, a rabi...your mom?

There is always somebody there, you know. It does get better. In the meantime enjoy this amazing and emotional concert