Black Dog

The Internet is a wonderful thing, a wealth of knowledge, shit it has knowledge of things that will and do change and effect your entire life before even you get to find out first hand.

 

It was a Saturday afternoon when my phone rung, it was my dad, whose voice I only ever seem to hear these days when it’s something that is life altering or life shattering.

 

My dad’s a Scotsman, migrated to New Zealand for my grand entry onto the planet, and we moved to the land down under when I was 12 turning 13.

 

In my eyes my dad has always been almost a hero, no I correct that in my eyes my dad was my hero, until recent years when I have come to realise and see for what it is that he is what kryptonite is to Clarke Kent, but I have learned to accept this for what it is, and to somehow choke it down.

 

Maybe in some small way it’s a girl thing, we all have a vision of how our dad is that super hero, not wanting to see that under the image we have of him in our minds he is nothing more than anyone else, blood and bone.

 

So despite hating the telephone with a passion due to the fucking invention bringing me nothing but grief whenever it rings, the day I received the phone call from dad asking me had I been on face book yet? I was to say the least shocked.

 

Firstly why in god’s name was he calling me to ask me such a stupid fucking question?

 

Secondly, why the hell would he care if I had travelled into the land of my face fucking nightmare that day or not?

 

Due to numerous reasons my reply to dad was ‘no’, as I heard his voice kind of breaking up on the phone he did his dad thing where he cleared his throat, and says ‘callan passed away’ and added ‘I thought you may of seen it on face book’.

 

Right then that very second the room started to spin, walls close in around me as I headed towards any opening in the unit I was in, any exit any way out, wanting to throw the phone like it was burning me, and yet shocked, horrified, and feeling so sick in the pit of my stomach.

 

‘No’ was my simple reply ‘I spoke to him the other day dad your wrong’.

 

Turned out the underneath article made dads words a reality.

 

 

 

Rave DJ Callan Bright of Ultimate Buzz found dead at home

Dec 5 2011 By John Ferguson

A RAVE DJ has been found dead at his home.

Callan Bright’s body was discovered at his house in Bathgate, West Lothian, on Saturday night.

The 39-year-old was a huge hit on Scotland’s underground rave scene as DJ MC Bee with hardcore band Ultimate Buzz in the mid-90s.

Police said last night there were not thought to be any suspicious circumstances.

Callan started Ultimate Buzz in 1994 and they quickly became known as one of the top dance outfits in Scotland.

Between 1994 and 2000, they released 12 singles and four albums on various labels.

Tributes to the DJ flooded on to websites last night.

One fan said: “I can’t believe Callan is gone.

“He gave me so many great memories, so many great nights out. RIP.”

The DJ was believed to have been running his own music production and talent scouting agency.

 

Callan was 4 years older than me, and lived life to the limit, he had a way of pushing life to its maximum and laughing when by the skin of his teeth he just made it through whatever stupid thing he had done.

In my mind he was invincible; no way was the fucking internet going to tell me he was dead.

Furthermore no way was some d.j arsehole going to tell me how my cousin was this or that, owing money here there and everywhere because he had let himself slide so deeply into a black place, which he had become unreachable.

Always the light of the party scene, his talent to pump those crowds at those loud, over rated rave parties was amazing, how could somebody so out there, possibly be depressed?

So many thoughts racing through my mind, and so many things starting to add up, yet none of these things would help, none of them would bring back my cousin who for some strange reason had a strong bond with this Angel, so similar yet so opposite, and it was scary.

Turns out that even the best of us wear a mask to hide the hurt we feel, or the isolation we have encountered regardless of how bright we shine in the lime light.

As I went through my cousins face book page that Saturday the r.i.p comments began to appear, after the questions that were all over it asking was it true?

On the outside you  can be surrounded by a room filled with people, you can have somebody with you were ever you are going, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling alone, you can be the most popular person on earth,  yet this doesn’t stop the isolated and alone ache that is within your soul.

For my cousin, the magic fairy dust, of cocaine made him feel alive, his last face book update read ‘I hate cocaine but my nose fucking loves it’.

He died from a fatal heart attack; he had gone home from the hospital after being admitted, before going out on his last high.

I wonder still to myself, did he snort those lines after discharging himself from the hospital because he knew they would end it all for him? Or was he simply pushing it to the limit, this time reaching the limit and being found in his apartment dead?

He suffered in silence, wearing a mask of happy go lucky for the world to see when on the inside he was one lost soul.

Like so many out there who suffer from the good old black dog, (depression and mental illness).

People don’t want to reach out for help, because they fear what others will think when others learn that they have been hiding their pain, their personal torture and their darkest secrets.

They fear others will think less of them and treat them differently, which sadly is often accurate.

Therefore so many people suffer in silence unable to seek the help to get through the black dog, to get onto medication that acts as a bridge whilst they get over the worst moments of this illness that is by no means one that is in your mind and imaginary, it is very real, and it affects people’s everyday lives.

Can a person die from a broken heart? I believe we can.