Thank You Chester

There have been many celebrity deaths in recent years but with the greatest respect to those departed, no loss has hit me as hard as the recent suicide of Chester Bennington.

Sometimes you write articles and you try and use big words, try to sound smarter than you really are and do whatever it takes to impress your peers, but this is one of those times where words are built solely on emotion and everything else just goes out the window.

My own awareness of issues surrounding young men has been heightened dramatically over the past year, and now more than ever the time has come for that awareness to roar throughout society. We can’t just rely on charities and national awareness days to save those in need, we need to be looking at the person sat next to us, our families, our friends, our colleagues, our neighbours and sometimes even our heroes.

I’ve always believed that conversations can change lives. For someone in need to know that there is even one person who cares, well that might just make all the difference. At times I feel like I’m on a daily canvass to make men talk, but I’ve realised in the past few days that it’s just as important to listen and to react to what those talking are saying – it can’t just fall on deaf ears.


Because Chester talked. Chester talked about depression and anxiety and the ‘bad neighbourhood’ that existed between his ears until there was quite literally no more words to be said. In the last few days I must’ve watched a dozen interviews where Chester talks rather eloquently about all of the above and more. He doesn’t sound crazy, he doesn’t sound over the edge, he sounds sad and tired of his plight, but ultimately calm and accepting of what his life had become.

When listening to Chester speak, you begin to understand that his issues aren’t a phase but very much a daily struggle that have existed for many years. He tells of how his only coping mechanisms were to be a good Father, a good Husband, a good friend, a good band-mate and that when he wasn’t being any of those things he was terrified to be left alone in a mind that haunted his very existence. His revelations are deeply concerning, but his openness and his willingness to show a vulnerability to the world is nothing short of inspirational.

It’s so incredibly sad that opening up wasn’t enough to save Chester’s life, but that doesn’t mean it won’t save the life of another. On reflection, I think the nature in which Chester spoke about his issues was potentially quite deceptive to those around him. He spoke with such ease that in a way it gave this illusion that he was in control, that no matter how difficult life was he was getting on with it and that ultimately, he would be okay.

Outside of the world that existed in his head, Chester had a good life. A Father of six, a beautiful wife, founding member of one of the most iconic bands in history, adoring fans stretching to the ends of the earth and a voice that stole many a show. How scary depression must be to leave all of that behind.

Please always talk, please always listen, please look out for one another, please don’t take someone’s “I’m okay” for granted. It’s not that those around Chester didn’t do these things, it’s just a small reminder that this is the bare minimum we can do to help those in need and you just never know who might be in need of saving. I’ve thought a lot about Chester’s performance at Chris Cornell’s funeral, the norm at funerals is to feel sad and realise how lucky we all are that it isn’t us. Think how tormented someone must feel to decide they must be next, it’s time we stop taking this lightly.

He was the voice of an era and I feel heartbroken that another young person has found death to be the only way out. Thank you Chester for blessing us with a voice that could make us not only jump around like maniacs, but swarm us with goosebumps and move us to tears.

Finally at peace, you will be so missed.



6 thoughts on “Thank You Chester

  1. This is just perfect. Your opening words summed it up completely – I feel like I’ve lost a member of my family. I cried for 3 days straight, this is the first day I’ve felt ‘OK’. He was the voice that got me through my years of depression, and the voice that saved my life. The hardest part for me is that I know EXACTLY how he would have been feeling in his final moments, but I had him to pull me out. I only wish I could have returned the favour. I’m devastated. This one will take me a while. x

    1. Thank you Shelly that means a lot. I hope things are better for you now, always here if you need an ear x

  2. Hi Paul,
    is it ok to use this story on the BIA site and to share it (with links back to you) and any other stories regarding men and mental health or positive male role models,
    whats your thoughts.
    Brothers in Arms

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