R.I.P Chris Cornell

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I woke up this morning to a text from a friend informing me Chris Cornell was found dead in his hotel room.   Strange cause the night before we were talking about great rock singers and of course Chris Cornell came into the discussion.      I remember the first time I heard the band and was blown away by Chris Cornell’s vocals –  immediately Robert Plant came to mind….but this was now…and not some 8 track!     Hearing “Jesus Christ Pose” for the first time also blew me away.

What I heard later on that morning was that Chris hung himself.   Knowing first hand what it feels like t0 go through bouts of severe depression,   feeling like everything is seemingly hopeless,   empty and dead is what you think and feel.    I dont want to be around anyone when I suddenly find myself in this state.    I just want to sleep, a sleep where I have dreams where I end up getting shot or die in a plane crash in the ocean.     Once in this state,  I had a dream my father paid for a vacation we took together only to find out at the end of the trip he had me pay the bill.    Depresssion sucks….and getting treatment for it seems even worse.    You hear the same things……try these array of medications,  we’ll flip a coin and call the doctor if you have any thoughts of suicide.   Yeah….okay…..sound like your trying to help,  but only making things worse.     Go figure.    As much as modern medicine attempts to solve mysterious chemical imbalances in the brain,  unfortunately the medications are not once size fits all.

My heart goes out to the family Chris left behind as well as Chris himself.    The times Ive been to most depressed were times I look back on and scratch my head because usually its been the fault in my wiring.    Suicide shouldnt be a blame game…but rather than sweep the fact that depression haunts our species under the rug,   we should be opening up a dialog about it.

I remember the first time I felt like something was wrong with me….when I was in 5th grade.   My teacher came up to me and told me “it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile.  ”   What the fuck?   My teacher had no idea what I had to endure with my rage-aholic father and manic depressive mother who would just stare off into space anytime I asked her why she was crying….and then going to school only to have an adult telling me I need to smile.   Give me a fucking break.

Even as I write this I struggle at times to get myself engaged in something…go for a walk,  make music, sing..or just simply interact with another person to snap me back into the Greg I know.      I just have to take things one day at a time..thats the only way I know how to deal with it.  Its here,  its in me and the most I can do is not let it get me alone, in a place where I no longer find meaning or feel loved in this world.

RIP Chris Cornell.   You’ve certainly touched my life.