It took me a few days to figure out why I was taking Chester's death...suicide...so personally. Add in the feelings of being so raw already that month because I was (and am) still processing that a close personal friend committed suicide just over a year ago, but still my own feelings of hurt and betrayal about Chester felt over the top for him being a musician. I was sad when Robin Williams committed suicide, I was super sad when Paul Walker died, I was sad when Heather Ledger died. But I'd never sat there and just wept at the news, not just that day, but for days after...over two months later I still sometimes can't hold back the tears...
Love/hate/or be indifferent to Linkin Park's music - for me (like many others) they were my voice at an age when I was angry with the world. Angry, angsty, wanting to make a difference, and Linkin Park was going out there and being a voice and they kept it that way - still being relevant and creating new sounds (admittedly that I wasn't always a huge fan of, but that's not the point).
That first weekend after Chester's death, the question ran through my head so often - why is *this* death affecting me so much? And I realized - Chester was me. I mean, like I said - those lyrics, they were my voice, they were me. The depression, the anxiety, the the angst, the anger, all of the emotions were me. I'd quote the lyrics to show you, but if I start quoting, I won't quit...When I started listening to Linkin Park, so many years ago - my dad was sick...dying...died...my life was flipped upside down, I couldn't make sense of anything...I didn't simply relate to the lyrics, Chester's voice was my voice. So what did Chester's suicide mean? There but for the grace of God, go I.
My path went a different way - I was able to let go of much of my anger, I was able to center myself and climb out of my place of depression and anxiety. But, what if I hadn't been able to? What if...my husband says that the question isn't valid - because he feels I could never abandon my family (even before I met him). While I understand that many people who commit suicide don't think of it that way - in my case, my husband isn't wrong in saying it like that. I've been there before (years ago) - been on the cusp of simply thinking of attempting something irreversible but what stopped the thoughts*every time* was thinking about my family and friends - and how that would affect them and I just couldn't take the thoughts any further.
Sitting here at my computer - I'm listening to a mix of Chester singing in a capella - I was going to write something long before this, but I'm not sure I would have been able to type through the tears. Even now I'm struggling to get this out. Today, I'm heartbroken that he chose a different path, but I also realize - I'm not who I was when I so closely identified with his lyrics. The lyrics now bring melancholy memories of that time, but when I listen or sing along - they are only echoes of who I was. I'm happy where I am, I'm happy my choices took me somewhere else and I'm heartsick that Chester and so many, others feel that they have no other choices, that even the help they seek isn't enough.
"Who cares when someone's time runs out? If a moment is all we are....Who cares if one more light goes out? Well I do"
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