Thank you that you would even care to ask! But why give up on the coffee - the sweet, sweetness of morning coffee? Nah really, good job. Air baby, breathe in some new air! Troubles, distress - all are woven into the very fabric of this temporary world, this we know. Life. Rises us to overcome bit by bit, as we learn what this means for us personally and how to do it. Thanks for sharing what most people would be too freaked to sincerely speak of. Most witches in the olden days were prob just people who understood the spirit world a bit deeper than most. Darkness is most effective in darkness, so it's harder for this kind of stuff to hide/by eradicated [ie. burned at the stake] like it once did. BC lights are shining BIG. Yours. We love you so much, and absolutely cannot wait to hear from you again. Take 'er easy, & steady as she goes. :)
As always, I don't know how you do it but your words are what I need to hear at the time I need to hear them.
I struggled last night. The black dog is almost always at my door, waiting to come inside or lead me off into the darkest parts of night. Once again I felt he was close to taking me.
Last night he got in the house while I was cooking dinner, tears streaming down my face and before I knew he was there he had me on the ground, jaws around my throat and I thought that was it, he's finally won.
I picked myself up, finished what I was doing and forced myself to eat through that sick feeling of dread that has become so familiar to me now, hands shaking I finished the meal and set the dish down on the kitchen sink. The dog was till in the house.
I sat down and picked up my guitar and played through a set of my favourite songs to play at the moment. I'm not really writing music right now just letting my favourite songs get under my skin and absorb into my soul to help me rebuild the damaged parts.
Townes Van Zandt, Fred Neil, Leonard Cohen, Lou Reed, David Bowie, Johnny Cash & my departed best friend Dave Mutton.
When I was finished the black dog was gone and I could breath easier. I am the mother fucking blues.
Yesterday I finally got in to see my psychologist. Since last we met everything has changed including my name. I introduced him to Jay Phoenix. as briefly as I could (which is difficult for me I always have much to say), I outlined the pain and loss I've endured over the last month. He interjected a few times to clarify and expand on a few things but when I was finished he walked over to the whiteboard and started drawing a series of diagrams asking me to be completely honest about everything he was writing. It was me to a tee, so much so I started laughing manically at one point and said
"OK, so who has been showing you the lyrics to my music, there's verse one and two right there and most of the chorus". HE finished writing "It looks a hell of a lot like BPD. Border Personality Disorder".
This revelation was a shock and a wave of relief at the same time. I found myself staring at the last thing he'd written: Substance abuse, Depression, Suicide. I burst into tears.
When I'd composed myself he let me know that it's not easy to treat, but given my sobriety and my awareness and honesty with how I feel, he feels confident we can manage this condition. He mentioned anti-depressants or mood stabilisers (I think the latter sounds more apt), but given my reluctance for any kind of drug agreed we could try starting treatment unless things escalated and I felt like I should start on a course of medication as soon as possible.
I walked the short distance home soaking wet with my limp useless umbrella and began preparing my evening meal. I left the front door open a little and thats how the black dog got in.
In a few hours I have my first Suicide Prevention meeting with my peer workers. They asked if I'd mind bringing some writing with me. I don't think I will just yet. I've only just gotten use to the laptop over my preferred notebook and pen.
Your post today reminded me of why I keep moving forward even though every step feelings like walking through broken glass and razors and I often feel overwhelmed and like giving up.
Ministry were right. The mind is a terrible thing to taste.
W.E., I grew up outside of Worcester, went to school in Boston, and then moved to LA; for obvious reasons, your journey geographically, and as an artist, and as a human, has always been such a grounding and inspiring path to me. But reading this hits even more deeply.
I was 18 and reading zines, and posts on the bridgenine messages boards (ha), that talked glowingly about this fractured, poetic screamer with his artistic heart; you set a path that showed trauma and rawness didn't mean damnation in a dead New England mill town, that having a passionate core in violent times could lead to great art...why not try?
AN gave me a voice, and much later when I moved to LA, Cold Cave gave shape to what it's like outgrowing so much rage. To let meaning bloom in your life. To honor the honesty of the gutter in the same breathe as the magic you see in the people you love.
And now HNT helps validate the dread that nearly killed me in a little bungalow off Micheltorena in Silverlake. Even talking the way you do about coffee helps me feel seen (for months wandering down to Intelligentsia on a daily basis was the only thing that kept me alive, stupid as it sounds). For 20 years, your writing has helped me to cope with the bruises I've borne, with the eerily similar losses and long fight against the slippery slope.
Today, that's even more-so the case, because I have my own Chachi who is still here-- another roughed-up drinker and digger of crates with a similar darkness, in his own black room, who I worry about constantly...it's a special weight I've never seen understood so deeply.
I thank you for that. And for helping me realize how many times I've caused people who care about me to fear for me the same way I fear for my best friend...it's easy to lose sight of that when you're getting rolled by the ups and downs.
And one final weird synchronicity: My best friend Ryan has told me the most glowing things about the time he's gotten to share with you and Amy. To know that a such a dear friend has been able to bring their talent and warmth to someone who has inspired me so much, that shit fills my heart with so much joy.
Such strange tides moving in the universe. I still have my hoodie from the LA date on the 2011 AN reunion tour.
I miss driving home from a Worcester show that had 35 people at it, headed for Maine, not paying attention and ending up somewhere random in Vermont. No phone, no map, just the will of whatever. I hope your friend can find some solace in that some of the darkest days make some of the most beautiful people. Thank you for this, truly. There will be more!
It was a heart-wrenching read but thank you for sharing it. Makes me wonder again, how do you cope with so much loss?
Also I love how you put feelings into words so much, so looking forward to your new book.
I'm happy that you have a lot of subscribers here and that it makes you feel nice 🖤
My weekend was wonderful. I went to Braunschweig to a small goth festival to see my favorites Diorama and Scheuber, meet friends and finally meet my childhood friend who now lives in Greece and also travelled for the festival. We haven't seen each other for more than a year, the longest ever. The shows were great, a much needed reminder why I still keep living. I felt revitalized. Spent a night in a little cute German town at friends' house, then went to Hannover to hangout with my childhood friend until my night bus back home. We managed to connect again at the same beautiful level as in the good old times when we still lived in one city. Had a much needed talk about our shared experience regarding the war, of not really having a country of origin anymore and feeling like not having suffered enough to be considered truly affected by the war, even though we both are. I realized she is the only person I know who has almost the same experience in this context as me.
PS. I'd really love to see you in that Geoffrey B. Small suit. You're such a perfect model for designer pieces and your taste is unparalleled.
Hey Wesley, been so happy that you've taken to Substack. Always loved your writing and always glad to see it fall into my email inbox.
My weekend (since you did ask) was relaxed. I started practising for a new live set for a second album. Loads of things to tidy up but it's progress. I saw a friend's comedy show, and slept a lot. Successful all round, really.
Your words about Chachi reminded myself of an old friend of mine, Sky. He sadly also took his own life. It's been approaching eight years now for those of us who still remember his presence. It's never easy, but they're always with us somehow.
I'm looking forward to your London show. My third CC experience. I'll see you down the front screaming all the words to Underworld USA and Icons Of Summer back at you.
Always look forward to your writing, Wesley. And condolences to your dear Chachi.
This weekend I met a women who I've been talking to via text message the last 2 weeks. A difficult feat in my opinion. She goes to the yoga studio I practice at, and I met her in person, in this real life, on Friday. And then we were together till Sunday. Inseparable, it seems. One of the best weekends I've had in a long time, but of course the darkness creeps in and you wonder how it will all end or maybe, maybe it never will? I've made the decision to ignore the dark side of melting into someone new and soak in the reality instead. That the weekend was perfect and that I met someone who might be the twin to my heart.
We can easily overthink everything until we are glued to our own bed. But we've already done that and know the loneliness and outcome. Hopefully your lovely adventure continues and you can keep the doubt at bay.
Thanks for this Wes. I drove down from Manchester to London on Saturday to see Current 93 at Union Chapel. Our mutual friend Boardy was supposed to come too, but had to bail because he was late home due to the snow. The gig was fucking amazing, my third time seeing c93, two of which have been in churches. Thanks again for your words. They always make things better.
i remember juanita and juans that place was really awesome! went there for a reading where you suggested trying task relaxing time is over which is a record i still play to this very day. i really enjoy the sounds of early cold cave and even ye olde maids. something about how they were made just makes them sound eerie sad but also unapologetically punk.
Thanks Jesse - I still love that record too and Floating di Morel, their other band, is still releasing records today. I like to visit them each time I'm in Berlin.
I spent my weekend crying. First during the Oscars secondly because right now Philadelphia is cold and bleak and being born in Florida, I'm still getting use to seasonal depression, even after 10 years. Philly also just has a darkness that wont ever go away. I'm enjoying reading all of what you're putting down, I've always loved your writing and your lyrics so thank you for giving us something to look forward to.
Thanks Jessica - there's also something wonderful about Philadelphia. I don't know if I could handle the winter at this point though. A remote winter yes, a city winter no... It's the gray sky regardless of temperature that leaves me uneasy. Thanks for reading.
Thanks for choosing to share your thoughts with all of us in this way. The last few weeks have been disfigured at best and my inbox notification of HNT has been a welcome consistency. The weekend was primarily spent sorting through the tail end of what felt like a 2 week anxiety attack after doing what I could to support a friend who was threatening suicide and thankfully didn't go through with it. Reading about Chachi hit even harder than I could have expected, and I'm grateful for your candor.
It's the first time I've not ended up contemplating taking my own life after trying to support and guide someone away from the proverbial ledge. It feels strange but relieving to realize that I might have finally outgrown some of my more self-destructive tendencies. My train of thought has left the tracks at this point, so I'll spare you any further rambling. Thanks
I love when the train leaves the tracks so congratulations on that. Hopefully your friend can do the same and leave the pain in the past. Life is so short so may as well ride it out. Thanks for reading.
I, too, have been enjoying the writing and look forward to your email. Weekend was good. Thanks for asking. Although one of the days it felt like the planet Mercury was in retrograde; the other day was peaceful. Nice. Also received my birthday present to myself on Saturday, "Confessions of the Night Porter". The author was willing to ship to the US. I haven't opened it yet since my birthday is later this month. It is a gift that I look forward to opening.
Being in a 12-step recovery program for a long time, am familiar with suicide. One woman even announced it in a meeting that she was going to kill herself. Her name was Martha. She reached out to people hours before with second thoughts hoping someone would answer the phone. She also left messages. No one answered and she did indeed kill herself. Some of the people I was close to, some were acquaintances which by no means lessens the loss. I hope I never get to that state of pain and despair. Sorry to hear about another of your friends dying and another loss for you. I don't think we have the power to change their mind.
I like the coat you wore at Psycho Las Vegas in 2019; you looked very sharp. Also, loved the way ML greeted you. One could tell he was glad you were with there with him.
Great news about/from Substack! Thank you for continuing to share your thoughts and observations.
Hi Joyce, thanks for this message... that's a terrible and saddening story about Martha. It's true that some people do seem almost determined for it. From what I've seen they are signaling it for years too so it's hard to know what to do in our positions. Never read the Night Porter actually. Always loved the film.. then of course it took on new meaning with ML. All the best to you.
The weekend was one filled with manual labor, fencing up the yard so our dog won't escape! In my younger years I would dread these kind f activities but now as I left my 30's behind me, I strive for a simpler life. Today my body aches but it's a sign I'm alive and did something. Dreams of silence and gardens I guess!
In the past few years, I’ve been thinking a lot about grief and loss and depression and how to articulate my own experiences with them. I appreciate that you’ve been open about the things that you’ve experienced. It does help a lot to see people give these things a space to be even though it might be a little more complex to approach. All the more reason to try.
Weekend was a happily failed mission to find snow.
I had nausea when I first got my glasses and it helped to sit with them on, meditation-like, and to focus on looking through all four corners of the lenses one at a time as if introducing them to your brain. Then remove for a second and trace an invisible square with eyes to acknowledge their absence. Might help?
Dear Wesley,
Thank you that you would even care to ask! But why give up on the coffee - the sweet, sweetness of morning coffee? Nah really, good job. Air baby, breathe in some new air! Troubles, distress - all are woven into the very fabric of this temporary world, this we know. Life. Rises us to overcome bit by bit, as we learn what this means for us personally and how to do it. Thanks for sharing what most people would be too freaked to sincerely speak of. Most witches in the olden days were prob just people who understood the spirit world a bit deeper than most. Darkness is most effective in darkness, so it's harder for this kind of stuff to hide/by eradicated [ie. burned at the stake] like it once did. BC lights are shining BIG. Yours. We love you so much, and absolutely cannot wait to hear from you again. Take 'er easy, & steady as she goes. :)
Not quitting just switching the method up. Or thinking about it. Probably not changing anything.
Wesley,
As always, I don't know how you do it but your words are what I need to hear at the time I need to hear them.
I struggled last night. The black dog is almost always at my door, waiting to come inside or lead me off into the darkest parts of night. Once again I felt he was close to taking me.
Last night he got in the house while I was cooking dinner, tears streaming down my face and before I knew he was there he had me on the ground, jaws around my throat and I thought that was it, he's finally won.
I picked myself up, finished what I was doing and forced myself to eat through that sick feeling of dread that has become so familiar to me now, hands shaking I finished the meal and set the dish down on the kitchen sink. The dog was till in the house.
I sat down and picked up my guitar and played through a set of my favourite songs to play at the moment. I'm not really writing music right now just letting my favourite songs get under my skin and absorb into my soul to help me rebuild the damaged parts.
Townes Van Zandt, Fred Neil, Leonard Cohen, Lou Reed, David Bowie, Johnny Cash & my departed best friend Dave Mutton.
When I was finished the black dog was gone and I could breath easier. I am the mother fucking blues.
Yesterday I finally got in to see my psychologist. Since last we met everything has changed including my name. I introduced him to Jay Phoenix. as briefly as I could (which is difficult for me I always have much to say), I outlined the pain and loss I've endured over the last month. He interjected a few times to clarify and expand on a few things but when I was finished he walked over to the whiteboard and started drawing a series of diagrams asking me to be completely honest about everything he was writing. It was me to a tee, so much so I started laughing manically at one point and said
"OK, so who has been showing you the lyrics to my music, there's verse one and two right there and most of the chorus". HE finished writing "It looks a hell of a lot like BPD. Border Personality Disorder".
This revelation was a shock and a wave of relief at the same time. I found myself staring at the last thing he'd written: Substance abuse, Depression, Suicide. I burst into tears.
When I'd composed myself he let me know that it's not easy to treat, but given my sobriety and my awareness and honesty with how I feel, he feels confident we can manage this condition. He mentioned anti-depressants or mood stabilisers (I think the latter sounds more apt), but given my reluctance for any kind of drug agreed we could try starting treatment unless things escalated and I felt like I should start on a course of medication as soon as possible.
I walked the short distance home soaking wet with my limp useless umbrella and began preparing my evening meal. I left the front door open a little and thats how the black dog got in.
In a few hours I have my first Suicide Prevention meeting with my peer workers. They asked if I'd mind bringing some writing with me. I don't think I will just yet. I've only just gotten use to the laptop over my preferred notebook and pen.
Your post today reminded me of why I keep moving forward even though every step feelings like walking through broken glass and razors and I often feel overwhelmed and like giving up.
Ministry were right. The mind is a terrible thing to taste.
All the best Wesley and thanks for the words.
Jays Phoenix.
Gotta keep the dog on a leash.
Thanks Wesley.
I've decided to stop fucking around with it and take the mood stabilisers before I burn anymore bridges.
Hope your happy
Hope your well.
Jay.xx
I hope your meeting was helpful 🖤
Sort of ... early days and I'm still struggling really badly. I hope to come to an end of that soon.
I have really been enjoying the writing, keep it up. Thank you!
W.E., I grew up outside of Worcester, went to school in Boston, and then moved to LA; for obvious reasons, your journey geographically, and as an artist, and as a human, has always been such a grounding and inspiring path to me. But reading this hits even more deeply.
I was 18 and reading zines, and posts on the bridgenine messages boards (ha), that talked glowingly about this fractured, poetic screamer with his artistic heart; you set a path that showed trauma and rawness didn't mean damnation in a dead New England mill town, that having a passionate core in violent times could lead to great art...why not try?
AN gave me a voice, and much later when I moved to LA, Cold Cave gave shape to what it's like outgrowing so much rage. To let meaning bloom in your life. To honor the honesty of the gutter in the same breathe as the magic you see in the people you love.
And now HNT helps validate the dread that nearly killed me in a little bungalow off Micheltorena in Silverlake. Even talking the way you do about coffee helps me feel seen (for months wandering down to Intelligentsia on a daily basis was the only thing that kept me alive, stupid as it sounds). For 20 years, your writing has helped me to cope with the bruises I've borne, with the eerily similar losses and long fight against the slippery slope.
Today, that's even more-so the case, because I have my own Chachi who is still here-- another roughed-up drinker and digger of crates with a similar darkness, in his own black room, who I worry about constantly...it's a special weight I've never seen understood so deeply.
I thank you for that. And for helping me realize how many times I've caused people who care about me to fear for me the same way I fear for my best friend...it's easy to lose sight of that when you're getting rolled by the ups and downs.
And one final weird synchronicity: My best friend Ryan has told me the most glowing things about the time he's gotten to share with you and Amy. To know that a such a dear friend has been able to bring their talent and warmth to someone who has inspired me so much, that shit fills my heart with so much joy.
Such strange tides moving in the universe. I still have my hoodie from the LA date on the 2011 AN reunion tour.
XOXO
I miss driving home from a Worcester show that had 35 people at it, headed for Maine, not paying attention and ending up somewhere random in Vermont. No phone, no map, just the will of whatever. I hope your friend can find some solace in that some of the darkest days make some of the most beautiful people. Thank you for this, truly. There will be more!
Love this
It was a heart-wrenching read but thank you for sharing it. Makes me wonder again, how do you cope with so much loss?
Also I love how you put feelings into words so much, so looking forward to your new book.
I'm happy that you have a lot of subscribers here and that it makes you feel nice 🖤
My weekend was wonderful. I went to Braunschweig to a small goth festival to see my favorites Diorama and Scheuber, meet friends and finally meet my childhood friend who now lives in Greece and also travelled for the festival. We haven't seen each other for more than a year, the longest ever. The shows were great, a much needed reminder why I still keep living. I felt revitalized. Spent a night in a little cute German town at friends' house, then went to Hannover to hangout with my childhood friend until my night bus back home. We managed to connect again at the same beautiful level as in the good old times when we still lived in one city. Had a much needed talk about our shared experience regarding the war, of not really having a country of origin anymore and feeling like not having suffered enough to be considered truly affected by the war, even though we both are. I realized she is the only person I know who has almost the same experience in this context as me.
PS. I'd really love to see you in that Geoffrey B. Small suit. You're such a perfect model for designer pieces and your taste is unparalleled.
Hey Wesley, been so happy that you've taken to Substack. Always loved your writing and always glad to see it fall into my email inbox.
My weekend (since you did ask) was relaxed. I started practising for a new live set for a second album. Loads of things to tidy up but it's progress. I saw a friend's comedy show, and slept a lot. Successful all round, really.
Your words about Chachi reminded myself of an old friend of mine, Sky. He sadly also took his own life. It's been approaching eight years now for those of us who still remember his presence. It's never easy, but they're always with us somehow.
I'm looking forward to your London show. My third CC experience. I'll see you down the front screaming all the words to Underworld USA and Icons Of Summer back at you.
All the best from the UK,
Kay
Thanks Kay, see you there.. Sorry to hear of your friend Sky.
Always look forward to your writing, Wesley. And condolences to your dear Chachi.
This weekend I met a women who I've been talking to via text message the last 2 weeks. A difficult feat in my opinion. She goes to the yoga studio I practice at, and I met her in person, in this real life, on Friday. And then we were together till Sunday. Inseparable, it seems. One of the best weekends I've had in a long time, but of course the darkness creeps in and you wonder how it will all end or maybe, maybe it never will? I've made the decision to ignore the dark side of melting into someone new and soak in the reality instead. That the weekend was perfect and that I met someone who might be the twin to my heart.
I've also lost my voice.
Thank you. Keep writing, please. It's been great.
We can easily overthink everything until we are glued to our own bed. But we've already done that and know the loneliness and outcome. Hopefully your lovely adventure continues and you can keep the doubt at bay.
Thanks for this Wes. I drove down from Manchester to London on Saturday to see Current 93 at Union Chapel. Our mutual friend Boardy was supposed to come too, but had to bail because he was late home due to the snow. The gig was fucking amazing, my third time seeing c93, two of which have been in churches. Thanks again for your words. They always make things better.
Hope to see C93 here sometime... send Mark my regards.
Done 👊
As painful as it was probably to write, it was amazing to read.
Thank you for reading it. Painful, but probably better out than in...
i remember juanita and juans that place was really awesome! went there for a reading where you suggested trying task relaxing time is over which is a record i still play to this very day. i really enjoy the sounds of early cold cave and even ye olde maids. something about how they were made just makes them sound eerie sad but also unapologetically punk.
Thanks Jesse - I still love that record too and Floating di Morel, their other band, is still releasing records today. I like to visit them each time I'm in Berlin.
I spent my weekend crying. First during the Oscars secondly because right now Philadelphia is cold and bleak and being born in Florida, I'm still getting use to seasonal depression, even after 10 years. Philly also just has a darkness that wont ever go away. I'm enjoying reading all of what you're putting down, I've always loved your writing and your lyrics so thank you for giving us something to look forward to.
Thanks Jessica - there's also something wonderful about Philadelphia. I don't know if I could handle the winter at this point though. A remote winter yes, a city winter no... It's the gray sky regardless of temperature that leaves me uneasy. Thanks for reading.
“which I loved, by the way” https://youtu.be/K_KHbU-BOLs
Yeah it's still the same after all those years but with maybe more violence
Smoke Monster, good description
Unfortunately yes...
Dear Wesley,
Thanks for choosing to share your thoughts with all of us in this way. The last few weeks have been disfigured at best and my inbox notification of HNT has been a welcome consistency. The weekend was primarily spent sorting through the tail end of what felt like a 2 week anxiety attack after doing what I could to support a friend who was threatening suicide and thankfully didn't go through with it. Reading about Chachi hit even harder than I could have expected, and I'm grateful for your candor.
It's the first time I've not ended up contemplating taking my own life after trying to support and guide someone away from the proverbial ledge. It feels strange but relieving to realize that I might have finally outgrown some of my more self-destructive tendencies. My train of thought has left the tracks at this point, so I'll spare you any further rambling. Thanks
B
I love when the train leaves the tracks so congratulations on that. Hopefully your friend can do the same and leave the pain in the past. Life is so short so may as well ride it out. Thanks for reading.
I, too, have been enjoying the writing and look forward to your email. Weekend was good. Thanks for asking. Although one of the days it felt like the planet Mercury was in retrograde; the other day was peaceful. Nice. Also received my birthday present to myself on Saturday, "Confessions of the Night Porter". The author was willing to ship to the US. I haven't opened it yet since my birthday is later this month. It is a gift that I look forward to opening.
Being in a 12-step recovery program for a long time, am familiar with suicide. One woman even announced it in a meeting that she was going to kill herself. Her name was Martha. She reached out to people hours before with second thoughts hoping someone would answer the phone. She also left messages. No one answered and she did indeed kill herself. Some of the people I was close to, some were acquaintances which by no means lessens the loss. I hope I never get to that state of pain and despair. Sorry to hear about another of your friends dying and another loss for you. I don't think we have the power to change their mind.
I like the coat you wore at Psycho Las Vegas in 2019; you looked very sharp. Also, loved the way ML greeted you. One could tell he was glad you were with there with him.
Great news about/from Substack! Thank you for continuing to share your thoughts and observations.
Hi Joyce, thanks for this message... that's a terrible and saddening story about Martha. It's true that some people do seem almost determined for it. From what I've seen they are signaling it for years too so it's hard to know what to do in our positions. Never read the Night Porter actually. Always loved the film.. then of course it took on new meaning with ML. All the best to you.
The weekend was one filled with manual labor, fencing up the yard so our dog won't escape! In my younger years I would dread these kind f activities but now as I left my 30's behind me, I strive for a simpler life. Today my body aches but it's a sign I'm alive and did something. Dreams of silence and gardens I guess!
Seriously. I am aimed at simplicity but fear it is decades away. All the best Donny.
In the past few years, I’ve been thinking a lot about grief and loss and depression and how to articulate my own experiences with them. I appreciate that you’ve been open about the things that you’ve experienced. It does help a lot to see people give these things a space to be even though it might be a little more complex to approach. All the more reason to try.
Weekend was a happily failed mission to find snow.
I had nausea when I first got my glasses and it helped to sit with them on, meditation-like, and to focus on looking through all four corners of the lenses one at a time as if introducing them to your brain. Then remove for a second and trace an invisible square with eyes to acknowledge their absence. Might help?
Val thanks... the glasses are growing on me.