Chester Bennington and Suicide

Chester Bennington, the lead singer for Linkin Park committed suicide this week.

It is a loss.  On many levels, more than can be explained.

I really enjoyed their music and especially their lyrics.

He sang with emotion and expressed pain in a way that I had not heard before.

It is hard for me to imagine a depression so bad that someone with money, freedom and the adoration of the masses chooses to kill themselves.

Then again, what do I know.

I understand the debilitating nature of depression however.  I understand it very well actually. I would not call it a friend by any stretch.

Depression is this stranger that follows you and silently taunts you.

How you deal with that stranger is the struggle I would imagine.

In some cases it is as simple as having a life going in a certain direction, some money, some freedom, the illusion of love, nice possessions and even savings for retirement; now all of that goes away.  This would be the catalyst for disaster.  

Out of the self-imposed and self-created frying pan and into the fire.

Throw in some pretty horrible realizations of facing yourself in a way you never have before.

Add in drooling hatred directed towards you repeatedly each and every day. 

Threats to you, public and private shaming, horrible things said to your family, the few possessions you had of value stolen out from under you and sold and to make it that much better, poison being fed to the few people in life that matter to you.

Lost at every turn and then unemployed. 

Now that would be the making of a Greek tragedy.

Now take all of that to 11 and multiply a few more times.

It could easily result in depression on a massive level.  If there were another word to describe it, I would use that.

Since this is a purely hypothetical scenario, it would absolutely result in massive and life changing depression on an epic scale.

It would result in so many sleepless nights alone in some cold basement staring into the window of your soul and all you see is the blackness of nothing that remains.

The overwhelming din of loneliness.

How someone that was subjected to that could continue to live would be amazing.  Shocking most days.

There could be some redemption from a few apologies, from a few realizations, from the removal of some of the worst habits one inflicted on themselves (and others), but the depression over time remains.

Throw in the complete and utter inability to discuss anything like this publicly and seriously you have one of those memes that has the phrase Perfect Storm written all over it.

It has to be faced.  Or in Chester's case, it doesn't.

So, I understand.  I really do.

RIP Chester.