suicide – It’s Joel, actually.

Caroline.

March 7, 2020Posted in RecoveryTagged blended family, childhood, fear, fight or flight, grief, heart break, itsokaynottobeokay, life, love, mental health, parenthood, romance, step mum, suicideLeave a comment

Dear Internet,

Well, first and foremost thank you so much internet for all of your kind engagement and birthday likes, messages, GIF’s and party hats. This week has certainly be a waterfall of news from our tiny corner of the web! I do feel a little bit older than I did this time last week. I’ve noticed that I’ve made the switch from Radio 1 to Radio 2 permanently. Probably a long time coming. The morning aches – oh they ache! I’ve also discovered I’m really not as internet savvy as I once was. I do not know how to call Siri up on my new phone, nor sync calendars across providers. I made a big faux pas last week and it’s led me here.

I’ve been thinking a lot, recently, about second chances.

It was absolutely not my intention to post anything to my social media platforms about getting engaged a week ago. I wanted Mel to enjoy breaking the news, the likes, hearts, any comments. I wanted it to be her internet evening. All had gone to plan; she had tagged me in the picture and shared the news – whoever found out was going to find out and we were going to watch a film. Innocently, I changed our status to ‘engaged’ and before I knew it, it had posted that JOEL IS ENGAGED TO MELISSA. I’m so thankful to all of you who have gotten in touch over the last week – it just wasn’t quite meant to be so public.

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about second chances. About how a year ago, on March 6th, I never would have even began to dream of being in a place with someone where I could even consider getting engaged. Life has (it’ll be a shock if you missed it) been somewhat chaotic over the last few years. I never intended to be a soap story. For that, I’m truly sorry. I’m sorry for the tearful conversations if you passed me sat at the beach. I’m sorry if you felt awkward because you didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry for my painful posts that led you to ask my nearest if I was okay. I wasn’t okay. I hadn’t been okay for a very long time. My heart was broken. Mixed up, messed up and very unsure.

I wasn’t always a very good husband. I’d go as far as saying that I was actually a very bad one at points. I was so scared of it failing that I failed it before acknowledging its need for some plasters. My whole entire life leading up to getting married and the years that followed, I just wanted to fit in. Like many of us, I was looking for love, to be loved and seen lovingly. I’d grown up in a Sunday morning environment where lots of people had gotten married young and I was scared of not fitting the mould. Marriages are equally two people, but for my part, I let my wife down by not holding the relationship up when it needed it most. For that I am so sorry.

I’m not here, writing with regret, but with thankfulness, for the patience, for the experience and for the healing that failing marriage led me to. There are no sides, there is no battle, just four adults bringing up the most beautiful little boy, with joy.

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about second chances. About how a month ago a lady with so much life left to live chose to take her own away because a second chance felt so unattainable. To Caroline, I never watched your shows but I have been moved more than ever by your story. It’s so quick to pass off a quick comment or opinion and think nothing of it. Someone once told me they thought of me as ‘dangerous’ whilst in a church setting and I was still dealing with that quick fire comment in counselling years later.

Last July, I met Melissa, a quietly happy young woman. We swiped right. We sat on the beach. We talked. We laughed. And in the weeks that passed, we cried as we shared our stories in greater detail than ever before. To quote Mel directly, she once felt she was “done and cooked – off the table”. She didn’t feel that she would get a second chance on a together life, with a partner. To have children, and to plan their weddings. I knew, call it God, fate, life’s novel, that I was going to marry her within an hour of meeting her, but I knew that I wanted her to remember it was okay to dream the dreams she had often boxed away. This girl had imagined being married by 30, and to be planning for a child but instead the birthdays would pass by.

In the past 8 months she has taught me how to have fun again. She has step-mothered Elias as if her own. She has hosted events for friends she hadn’t even met yet. She has held me as any last remaining scabs fall off from pains past. And now she has been able to begin to dream her forever dreams again.

There’s a good chance you don’t know Mel but for every loud, public speaking figure, there is often a Mel quietly helping write the speech. If you don’t know her, please pop into her cafe and meet her. She is how I imagine what God/life intended by love. The kindest soul you could ever meet.

I am sure there are people we know who are somewhat shocked at speed of our recent engagement but before passing any quick fire comment, I implore you to think wholly about what might be going on in the complete picture of anyone’s lives. I can’t stop thinking about what kind of messages Caroline Flack was receiving in her most private of moments. About how many people had opinions on her life trajectory. In the weeks past, we’ve chosen in our little unit to try not to vocalise comment or opinion, instead just to vocalise love.

At times, im aware that I could’ve portrayed something I completely didn’t intend to. I haven’t meant it to be ‘all about me’. These posts. My using social media to document my mental health journey. My experiences in the music industry. Actually far from it. I play music because I want people to have a good time and hope I can help. I’ve started stand up comedy because I hope that others can share joy in some of my embarrassing mishaps. I think I perhaps got lost along the way and forgot that happiness wasn’t fitting an ideal, or to a timeline, but that it could be found in learning to love who I was, where I was and how I was.

I’ve been thinking a lot, recently, about second chances. About how I sit here, free from depression, free from brokenness and free from the chains of my own past beliefs. About how for Mel it was her dream to be married at 30. 9 months ago, that dream lived in her dreams. She turns 29 in April (Sorry if maths isn’t your thing – see appendix 1) – looks like there’s a lot of planning to do! We all deserve a second go at whatever you call life.

Thank you for standing with us both, with all four of us parents in fact, and Elias too. Thank you for your concern or your not sures. At times I needed them. It’s okay to not be okay but it’s REALLY okay when you feel more than okay again, too.

“In a world where you can be anything, be kind.”

❤️

Ps. I fully realise the irony of a mega post talking about not wanting to draw attention to a mega post 😘😘

Fat.

September 29, 2019Posted in UncategorizedTagged body image, eating, food relationship, heart break, mental health, suicideLeave a comment

I’ve spent as long as I can remember feeling rather anxious about my appearance. I’ve battled with my weight for the best part of two decades, trying fad diets a plenty. I have gynaecomastia and it’s been one of the root causes of my struggles with mental health. There were days in the past where I used to stand in the mirror and curse my enlarged chest; I’ve cried about man boobs too many times to remember! I know I’m no stranger to a selfie and I spend lots of time fronting bands, confidently, but in truth I’ve always been conscious of needing a sports bra 🙈

I’m posting this, not because I’ve lost a particular amount of weight but because I was in the bathroom pre-gig last night and I looked at myself in the mirror and felt so happy in my mind, content with my weight loss journey but in LOVE with the body I have despite its wobbles and bumps. Living and walking through life confidently isn’t always easy but I certainly feel in a better shape for loving my shape, regardless of my shape. That’s a lot of the word shape 🤷‍♂️😂 It definitely pays off, though. It was the BEST feeling to play a gig without anxious niggles in the mind.

Happy Sunday 🙌🏻(Absolutely no filter here 👌)

Scribble of a boy.

September 3, 2018October 23, 2018Posted in UncategorizedTagged grief, heart break, itsokaynottobeokay, loyle carner, mental health, parenthood, suicideLeave a comment

“He was a scribble of a boy, all hair and mischief” – Jean Coyle-Larner

Last week I shared a piece of writing on grief and as we approach the end of summer, I’ve been reflecting on a lyric, “summer of love, so full of pain”. I think that summarises a place so many of us find ourselves in, on different occasions in our lives. A lot of us spent four hazy weeks declaring that football was coming home, it so nearly did. The weather was hot, the nights were long, the pubs were full and the gentle waft of bbq coals lingered in the air. We were together, through the adulation and in the commiseration. As the whistle blew on England’s WC adventure, I stood teary eyed, in a pizza restaurant, with the pictures beaming on to a piece of white MDF. Gareth Southgate consoled his young players, as I imagined what it will be like to hold my son in his grief, and then how my parents have stood with me in mine. Joel, you’re coming home, I felt, but just hold on.

Over the years there have been moments where I’ve been stood, quietly staring into the blurry nothingness of the busy world and I’ve felt completely alone. I’ve found myself in dark headspace’s imagining that it would be easier for it all to end. That the chaos of was too much. That maybe I was too much. It’s candid to pen (type) and tough to read but it’s that, candid. When someone suffers in their head, it’s hard to explain the thought process, because so often there isn’t one. Just a whole load of nothing and a heap of numb. But that is not truth.

When I first heard Sun of Jean ☝️ I was moved by a verse written and read by a mother bursting with LOVE for her ‘Mowgli’. “He turned the world upside down and we’re richer for it. He was and is a complete joy” she says. And I am that, to my mother, as my son is to me. We mess up, we make wrong turns but it’s all process.

I’ve had these words inked on my arm this week to remember who I am. That I am loved. That I love. So if you know that pain that rushes like a speeding train, embrace it, it’s okay ‘coz we’re in this thing together. It’s not the end. I am and will always be Jackie’s “complete joy, (her) scribble of a boy” and you will be someone’s too. Sometimes it’s just a case of hanging on in there.