It’s a bad Friday morning

It’s a bad Friday morning. Most of us have just woken up to the news that Linkin Park frontman Chester Bennington, aged 41, committed suicide yesterday. I’m seeing a good variety of reactions hidden beneath a pile of RIP posts on Facebook. Many of us are genuinely sad because we never got to see him perform live with Linkin Park or with any of his other projects. Many of us are grieving at the fact that the day he was taken away from us happened to be Chris Cornell’s birthday. And people who were devotees of Cornell know the grief of the other millions still shocked with this piece of news. And almost all of us are reminiscing the good things that he gave to us in our childhoods — beautiful pieces of music for musicians and beautiful relatable songs to all the music fans in the world. In the sea of RIP posts and sad reactions, we’re really missing out on a few things here.
Heroes don’t always have perfect lives
When he was just 11 years old, his parents got divorced, and his father got custody of him. It was only after the divorce that he started abusing marijuana, alcohol, opium, cocaine, methamphetamine and LSD. At least in interviews, he went on to denounce drug use in the future and claimed to have overcome his addiction. What has been picked up my many media channels is that he had suffered sexual abuse from an older male friend when he was seven years old and the abuse went on until the age of 13. Out of fear of been called gay or a liar, he could never come out and ask for help. Even though someone as close as his father was a police detective who worked with child abuse cases, it took him years to finally name the culprit to his father. (He later decided to drop the charges, understanding that the guy himself was a victim.) This wasn’t all. He was also physically bullied in high school, “knocked around like a rag doll at school, for being skinny and looking different”. It had been mentioned a couple of times that the abuse and the situation at home had affected him so much that he felt the urge to kill people and run away.
This was where music came to him and, in some way, saved him. Things did not really become smooth and all-positive for him. His family was in the news for being cyber-stalked and cyber-bullied. Many of his shows had to be postponed or cancelled because of his ill-health and many injuries. But without a doubt, he had become the hero for people all across the globe and was saving lives on a daily basis — with his music.
There are people who are million-times more affected
Although he rarely talked about the personal demons he was fighting against, he had mentioned having successfully gotten clear from substance abuse that had plagued his life for decades. Chester leaves behind six children, ages 6 through 21, as well as wife Talinda, who has yet to comment publicly on the heartbreaking news. And then there are tens of the people associated with him as a part of Linkin Park, expecting to kicking off their One More Light world tour in Massachusetts. All of it, at least on camera, looked like a really happy family, a really well-knit band that still had years of music left in them.
There has a lot to do with Chris Cornell who had also died of suicide by hanging two months prior and who Chester dearly missed. His passing came on what would have been Cornell’s 53rd birthday. The fellow rockers were close friends over the years and Chester — who is one of his children’s godfathers — sang Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” at Chris’ private funeral in May 2017, not too long ago. Clearly, he was one of the people who was deeply affected by Cornell’s death.
Words can kill too
Let’s consider for a moment that you have had your growing years marked by sexual abuse by an adult friend, mental abuse by the family disturbance and physical abuse on the hands of high school bullies. There are sudden surges in your anger that make you want to kill someone and run away. So you try to numb yourself down by giving in to drug addiction. All kinds of drugs but they still fail to relieve you of your pain. So you channelize all your anguish and anger into your creativity — and make music and songs that reflect your thoughts. The words resonate with all that’s choking you, and they try to make sense to the people out there, all in the hope that they would listen to it and understand. But it still doesn’t take the pain away. (Most people will claim to see the context now in most of the Linkin Park lyrics, but that’s alright!) Many people use art as their own furtive conversation channel with themselves, their own confession rooms. And you’re being no different, you just can’t let your troubles overpower you.
Unknowingly or knowingly, you’re talking in the same language that everyone speaks. Everyone, in their own shell of troubles, relates to you. They look up to you as your savior, a God. Your words become the best manifestation to the same demons they all have been fighting. You’re not an overnight sensation, you’re a messiah. Your fans are devotees and they look up to you. Soon you have the world at your feet. But with time, some wounds heal, but the scars remain. Your music, still expressing what you have within, takes just a creative turn which is perfectly alright with you. You don’t want people to dictate what you make. All you do is find a slightly different way of expressing your anguish.
A small glitch in this arrangement is the way fan following works. If they like you, they want you to acknowledge that. They want you to feel accountable to the people who made you the star that you have become. It’s only natural that they will pass judgments on whatever you make, speak or do. This turn, however, is something that they don’t all resonate with. It might be small chunk of people but a million words have been spoken. If you are the good man/woman that you know you are, you listen. You see those people turn on to you, mock you for what you’ve done. They are the same people whose lives you’ve saved. They discount you for the quality of music you produce, they feel ashamed to be called Linkin Park fans — because it was your high school/childhood favorite — and is not anymore. You’re huge, you had the world at your feet. But now your ground’s suddenly shaking. You very well could be the savior to millions, but you struggle to find your own savior. And then certain events take place, your dear friend gives in to death and then you really cannot take it any more. You aren’t really left with a lot of choices, are you?
It’s a huge loss. But I don’t blame you, Chester.