It was an extremely important day today in British politics. A change is surely gonna come. NO, not the Leveson enquiry with that fucking lying arsehole, there was a debate on mental health in the House of Commons. Two MPs in particular, Charles Walker and Kevan Jones, were brave enough to stand up and tell us about their experiences. This is a monumental event and with any luck, should be a catalyst for many good things to happen regarding depression and mental health issues.
You can read about the debate here –
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-18444516
Why is it so difficult to stand up and say how we feel? Why is it so hard to tell someone how we feel? Obviously the stigma attached to mental health problems keeps us down, crushing us into a little space that makes us feel so alone and helpless. But if high profile figures such as MPs are putting up their hands and saying “Me! I suffer!” then why can’t the rest of us?
I took ages to get help. I didn’t feel like anyone understood. I felt like it was only me who suffered these problems and therefore only i should deal with it. Now to those who haven’t had depression or the like this just seems stupid. What the fuck? Just talk about it dumbass. Oh you feel down? Go to the fucking doctors then. But you and i know it ain’t quite as easy as that don’t we?
Different people deal with it in different ways. When i was at my darkest, deepest worst, i threw myself into music. It helped, it soothed, it understood. When i was 21, before things went a bit sideways, i was in a band. A five piece called Love Street, described by (ourselves!) as “The Rolling Stone Roses”. I was never the main songwriter with the band but i contributed one or two little ditties. It was only after the band split (musical differences you see) that i started writing more and more. I tended to write about day to day things, the usual shitey love song but mainly i was writing about how i was feeling. The only problem with that is i wasn’t really in a good place. My depression by this time had kicked in big style and looking back, my lyrics are a fucking psychologists dream case.
I thought i’d share some of them with you. I suppose they’re an example of just how i was feeling back then and a record of what i was going through.
But where is my heart, where is my soul, where is my life?
Here is the news, i’m dazed and confused tonight
A song imaginitively titled “Dazed and Confused” there. I think we can all hear what i’m saying there.
I can’t see straight, it’s all too much, a thousand things i see
My head is blind, my mind can’t breathe and the colours just won’t leave
A snippet of a song called “Kaleidoscope”. We’re getting a little bit deeper now. Read on!
Now it’s too late to be out here alone
So you kickstart your heels and start to waltz home
Steady on hands and cut knees
Aha! A reference to my drinking! That’ll be about me trying to get home from the pub arseholed out my tits then. But wait – here’s some more..
Start the day with an aching head
And the sun will rise above cloudy skies
Well these eyes have lost all the shine
Well well. I suppose it’s about waking up with a hangover, but boy are we getting a bit dark.
I play my part with usual style
A lot of witty lines and throw in a smile
But the mask i wear is cracking up to reveal me
Hmmm. I don’t think the author of this song is feeling too well.
Oh it’s such a nightmare and i’m holding on dearly
Such a confusion when there’s no option except defeat
Whatever could i be on about there? Defeat to who? No, i can’t be talking about that, surely, can i?
I’m not gonna let it win
This crushing blow that’s dealt from within
A fall from grace around and around
I’ve come this far so where is the ground?
I cut myself to see how it bleeds
The painful rush just makes me believe
So cover up the scars never seen
I can’t explain how hard this has been
Now i’m not gonna let it win
But the battle cry is distantly thin
And it multiplies day after day
And the black eyed man is comin after me
Do i really have to explain that one? The song is called “Cut Out Indefinitely”. Fuck me, we’re going places. Want to go deeper?
Look forwards not sideways, keep focussed on mindgames
Will he, won’t he? It’s good to be free
And someday you’ll find me surrounded by plastic
Couldn’t be called old, broken and cold
AWOOOGA!!! AWOOOGA!!! ALERT ALERT!! That’s… that’s… DEATH he’s talking about!! Well i did tell you about this in my previous blogs, didn’t i?
At my worst, my very very worst i wrote a song. It was called “I’ll See You Someday”. Looking back, i’d pretty much written a suicide note without realising it. Not the one i planned to use but it would have worked perfectly. I can’t bring myself to write any of the lyrics in this blog, it’s just too much for me even after all this time. Maybe one day i will.
But what’s this? Light at the end of the tunnel! Read on!
To get back on the tracks
To build myself up again
And i know that i’ll return soon
Don’t know where, don’t know when
But there’s a message i can send
And i hope and i think it’s today
IT’S GETTIN’ BETTER MAN!!!
And at that time i struggled to crawl from beneath the rock
But as time passes you shed the pain
And now i’ve learned to walk
So i’m obviously on the mend then. And the rest is history! Not quite as simple as that though.
These are just a snippet of what i wrote back then, i must have written a hundred or so songs, some good, some bad. Some with a positive theme, some with, well, an extremely dark theme. I enjoy looking back on them and i’ll forever keep them, locked away in a wee box somewhere so the kids don’t find them and asked what the fuck i was on back then. Well, i’ll tell them when they’re old enough.
I suppose that was my way of letting off steam, my release, my way of letting go. I haven’t let a lot of people hear my songs. I recorded a lot of them and gave the tapes to two of my best mates but apart from them, no-one has heard them. I don’t imagine that anyone will either, not only are the songs probably pure shite sounding but seriously? Do you want to listen to lyrics like that?
Maybe you do. Maybe you relate to them. Maybe what i wrote is exactly how you are feeling now. Maybe then, instead of writing it down for your own personal use, you should follow the lead of an MP for once. Stand up. Get up. Tell us how you feel. It’ll be the best thing you ever do.