#suidice

As I watch the Linkin Park & Friends concert to Celebrate Life in Honor of Chester Bennington, I can’t help but reflect on how much LP has meant to me over the past 17 years. 

With Hybrid Theory being released at the height of my formative years, while I was still a needlessly angry young man, nearly every track hit home in some way. Meteora, their more polished follow up was in my CD player for nearly 5 years after it came out and Minutes to Midnight stands as my most anticipated album of all time. I’ve followed the band through their major releases, side projects, Underground EPs, and Live shows. 

While its easy to put LP in a box and just call them a “Nu-Metal Band” their talent, artistry, and ability to connect on both a lyrical and musical level is undeniable. Chester Bennington was a huge part of getting LP to where it is in my life. Mike Shinoda is often called the “Glue” that holds the band’s sound together, but it was clear early on that Chester was the soul. It helped that the man could sing anything. His screams were more beautiful than most singer’s singing. Fandom aside, his suicide shed an odd light on my grieving process and what kind of fan of music I am.

Chester was a special individual and not knowing the pain he was in throughout my LP journey, is embarrassing. Why didn’t I see this coming, and why wasn’t I worried about it? Angsty 90s/00s rock was a gimmick, it was a way to cash in on angry white dudes and tap into a narrative that we all seemed to be not-so-subtly experiencing. As much as I’ve always loved LP, finding out that the pain in the words of their songbird wasn't just a gimmick or false narrative, hit me hard.  

Since his death, I can’t listen to LP without hearing the voice of a man crying for help, by being completely transparent about his feelings and experiences. Before July 20, 2017, it was all just a show. It was words on a page, cathartic at best. Chester was only one of the greatest vocalist in history, what he sang didn’t have to matter. That old saying that “He could sing the phone book” was how I saw him. Sure, the words had meaning, but they never struck me as autobiographical. 

Imagine the emotional gravity of every LP song hitting you at once. Tracks like “Leave Out All the Rest”, “Numb”, “Shadow of the Day”, “I’ll Be Gone”, “Nobody Can Save Me”, hell the list is nearly endless. The entire LP library is a collection of tortured songs that in some ways project Chester’s fate. What seemed like costume jewelry very quickly became priceless gems on what would become the next martyr in the ongoing fight against mental health. Shit got really real, really quickly.  

Naturally, I dove into a self-induced LP coma for a few days, basking in the loss of one of my heroes and then tragedy hit home in a way I could never see coming. On July 21nd, an old friend of mine, Dorothy Kendrick (Johnson) took her life. Once the initial shock wore off, I was struck with the oddest and strongest emotion. We were never super close friends, but we were close enough for me to affected by her suicide. 

Shame washed over me as I tried to digest what was happening. Here I am, literally crying over a man I’ve never met, never talked to, never touched, when someone close enough to call a friend, was gone to the same fate with 48 hours. My grief for Chester was arrested, my priorities were questioned, and I was forced to reflect on who I am as a person.  

Its hard to describe the dichotomy of emotions the hit me in the following week. I felt bad for being sad about a celebrity’s death. Was I the right amount of sad for Dorothy? Should I even be comparing the two? Who’s death do I come to terms with quicker? But technically didn’t Chester’s music have a bigger effect on me? Is this shame I’m feeling just a manifestation of my sadness? Do other people have these kinds of thoughts? How do I go about being sad the right way? 

Ultimately, I gave in and let grief be my way out of my own head. I don’t need to contextualize my sadness, I can grieve for multiple people in different ways, It's not about me. The bigger crime here is assuming that it is. Just be sad...it's that simple. Sadness doesn’t have to be explained or inspected. It shouldn’t be so hard to be sad...just let it happen.  

As my wife held me while I cried, it didn’t matter why I was crying, what was important was that the person I loved most in this world was there for my pain and considering the situation, that’s the most apropos outcome. We have to learn to lean on others and let others lean on us. It’s an important part of being human and it is invaluable in the grieving process. 

We are all going to have painful loss in our lives, that’s unavoidable. Coming to terms with that loss is literally the only thing we can do. So, to wrap this back around to LP, Chester, I’m going to miss you and I thank you for what you provided in life and I extra thank you for what you’ve provided and will provide in death. LP will never be the same, and your music has never meant more to me than it does right now.  

Back to the concert. As I listen to singer after singer fail to duplicate Chester’s sound his impact on music becomes more and more clear. This LP & friends concert is therapeutic. So many artists of multiple generations coming together to bookend on an era of music that often gets a bad rap. LP are 8 years away from being eligible for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and if they are not first ballot entrants...the R&RHOF will have hell to pay!

Now I want to talk about Mike Shinoda. I can’t even imagine what it's like for him right now. Chester was a force of nature and seeing Mike on stage alone as the only vocalist is painful on both a performance and personal level. My brother is alive and I'm not even sure that I’m as close to him as Mike was to Chester. Mike and Chester together are the voice for a generation and seeing that voice hamstrung by death is heartbreaking. Most of all, on that big stage, he just looks lonely.  

Content warnings: Suicide, Falls.

Unfortunately, no. Realistically, survivability beyond about five stories is zero, and from beyond 3 is unlikely. Even at or below 3 stories of falling, severe trauma is likely to produce crippling injury that she’ll carry for the rest of her life. She may be paralyzed, have a severe head injury, and/or never be able to walk (or walk normally, at least) again.

Could someone tackle her before she jumps? Or could she try suicide by a different means, such as overdose on opiates (which is reversible)? There are lots of ways to attempt suicide, but a fall from 5+ stories is going to have a 100%* success rate.

* “so close to 100% as to be no different from 100%”, because we’ve all heard tall tales of paratroopers getting caught in electrical wires and living, etc, but those will feel deus ex-y in fiction.

Good luck,

xoxo, Aunt Scripty

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