Scott - 37
Content Warning - The following story contains discussions of suicide. If you or someone you know is at risk, please visit www.befrienders.org to find support in your area.
Alone, like a lone wolf who is lost, and becoming stagnant.
That is how I would describe my journey over the last several years of my life. Searching for my new pack and a sense of belonging. I had a very happy childhood with a loving, caring, and supportive family. I was never alone, and always sociable.
I’m not an introvert, if anything the opposite. In high school, I was part of the “in crowd” voted in yearbooks to “most likely be in the spotlight all the time”. Playing in a popular band, while being captain of a junior hockey team, I felt like there was credence and a sense of belonging in this so called “light”. If I have learned anything it’s that nothing gold can stay, and eventually that spotlight dims or fades to black when you’re not working hard enough. This left me feeling lost, incomplete, and searching for my identity.
Before forming my first band “The Burrard Fix”, I was introduced to an Aussie named Sean. He had moved to Vancouver from Perth just that summer. Sean was truly unlike anyone I’d ever met. He was covered in tattoos and a wine taster for a swanky downtown restaurant. He was cultured, a true empath who could always tell if something wasn’t right by your aurora or energy. He’d always check in on me or ask, “what’s wrong with you today buddy? You seem fucked up!”. This was something I hadn’t experienced within superficial circles of friends.
March of 2008, I was helping Sean pack for a trip home to Australia for a good friend’s wedding. We said our goodbyes and shared a hug, but not before making plans to move in together once he got back. Five days into Sean’s trip home, I received a phone call from his girlfriend. It was 2:11 am. She was hysterical and crying. Sean had killed himself.
I remember that morning so vividly, yet it still feels like such a frantic blur. I still can’t see or explain it clearly. He hid his depression well, covering up the cut marks on his wrists with tattoos in a beautiful handwritten script that read, “no regrets,” and “don’t apologize”. In the days following, we held a wake in Vancouver with all of Sean’s closest friends. My bandmate Garrett and I took on the task of writing a song we titled “Doves” and recorded it in time for his celebration of his life. This helped with the initial shock and grief but was not enough to prepare me for the years ahead.
After junior hockey was over, and the band started to play more live shows and gain a following, I would often self-medicate, never realizing I was trying to numb myself from the pain of losing a best friend. It slowly became a crutch. Over the next few years, to escape from reality, my main coping mechanism was to use drugs or alcohol.
In 2011 I made the decision to go to rehab. I promised myself I would make an honest attempt to sort through the issues I had drastically been avoiding. To give it my all, like any practice, or performance. With the help and guidance of my counsellor, I started to talk to Sean. This was something I had never thought of doing, and I still do regularly to this day. It has helped provide me with a form of closure.
I was never able to tell him how much he meant to me or have a proper goodbye. This is something I struggle with in my personal relationships today. Whether it is a friend moving to the other side of the world, or a girl breaking my heart, I can now identify where my trauma with goodbyes stems from. That has opened a whole new perspective on my past, and future life experiences.
While working my 9-5, I started to ask myself how important the creative arts are, not just to me but to others. Creative Arts act as a portal, showing just how similar our journeys are while remaining unique and different at the same time. They are also one of the best outlets for our emotions and have become an important form of therapy to me. In 2019 during the start of the pandemic, I began to look for the things that brought pure enjoyment to my life, natural dopamine hits or feelings of nostalgia. I found and rekindled my love for the outdoors, many sports (basketball, cycling), vigorous exercise, as well as writing and playing live music again. I have a new form of confidence in myself and I’m very excited to pursue other passions like acting and modelling. I was once told I had a look in my eyes that I could do or accomplish anything, and I’m finally ready to see just how true that is.
Upon meeting someone special, and with their advice, I began to reincorporate daily journaling, a morning gratitude list, monthly therapy and/or a weekly men’s meeting when I felt it was necessary. The repetition of putting my emotions into words, whether in a group setting or when trying to write a new song, feels like second nature now. Through breath work and daily meditation, I was able to calm my bouts of anxiety while remaining present and fully apart of the process. None of my feelings are permanent, looking at the adversity I face, like a test or another lesson to learn for self-growth, and gaining a new and fresh perspective. My coping skills have gotten better. I can take a step back before reacting without my emotions or feelings of panic getting the best of me.
There has always been this clock ticking in my head acting like a timer that would bring on bouts of anxiety, feelings of not being good enough as well as a fear of under-achieving, failing, or dying alone. What I didn’t figure out until recently is just how connected all these doubts are. I no longer want to make everything a race while facing life alone, white-knuckling it in silence, not being present. Building connections is everything to me now. I don’t feel like I’m in solitude any longer as I have immersed myself into the communities I belong to. My advice to anyone feeling alone is to say “Hi,” to your neighbors and help them when you can, talk to strangers, welcome conversations you never thought you would have. Check in on your friends as much as possible even when they appear perfectly fine. These are the things that truly make the world go round and give you a feeling of belonging to a greater purpose.
Regardless of how the dominos fall, the more time I spend pursuing my passions, goals, and aspirations the more I start to see the things in life that matter. Health, happiness, friendships, family and spending your time with people and activities that bring you the most joy. Every goal or dream you’re able to achieve after that is just a bonus.
Music - Scott’s music choices during our photo session included Mac Miller, Palace, The Used, and Buffalo Springfield.
