A waste

The weekend was full of sadness for a lot of people.  There were horrific events across the globe and a lot of people have had their lives changed irrevokably.

I always feel saddened when I hear a celeb has died (yes, I’m going to talk about that story, but it does not mean it should eclipse all the other tragedies.) There will always be a story which pulls at heart strings, and the death of Amy Winehouse did just that to me. It makes me so sad to hear of such a waste of talent.

I think the reason why this story touches me is because of a personal experience a few years ago.

When we were at school, there was a group of girls of various ages who used to hang out in the music room.  We would go there at break times and lunch times and we were considered by the rest of the school to be the music geeks.  We immersed and surrounded ourselves in every aspect of music from playing to composition, aural to history and were all very talented and highly skilled.

I have a lot of memories from those days at school; the concerts and parents evenings, the brass band being praised as one of the best in Hampshire. We all moved into college and once again were celebrated for our talents.

College had a different dynamic and there were two very distinct cliques.  At school, we all got along, even though there were members of the group we each favoured less.  College made us choose.

I chose not to group with a girl who clearly hated me and got drunk at the back of the bus with the goth outcasts, one of which was Jo.

Jo had been in the year above me at school and we’d never gotten on famously.  I had never really liked her, mind you she seemed to have this problem with a lot of the girls.  Not that she particularly minded.  She was nice to everyone no matter how she knew they felt about her. I didn’t like her because I was jealous.  She had everything.  She was an amazing trumpet player, she dabbled in piano, she got straight a’s and was good ay every thing.  Teachers loved her.  She was modest, she was strong.  I only ever saw her cry once.

Anyway I lost contact with everyone from school and college after some very bizarre events. This was how I’d wanted it as my depression had left a bit of a trail of destruction and it was important for me to be able to start a new life without the kind of negativity that was thrust upon me.  So I meet OH…

Then I meet his friends, one of which was in an external orchestra with all the people I went to school and college with. One day AH is at AR with us and he says:

Did you know Jo?

Me:yeah. I never really liked her.
Him: she died last month.

BOOM! Wait what? She died? How? She was only 27. She had everything.  And now it is gone, lost forever.

I didn’t and still don’t know how to feel about her death.  All my memories are tainted by knowing.  Her absence is noticeable every time I even think about school and college.  It makes me sad, drags on my heartstrings, that the blaring high trumpet notes that came from the bell of her instrument that I have on CD will never, ever ever be played again.

We had a reunion of sorts in 2008 and she was the hot gossip.  We had been told pneumonia had killed her but it had been revealed later by a couple of the girls who are now nurses that it was a drug over dose.

She had mixed with a bad crowd and taken a lethal cocktail of drugs.

That’s why Amy Winehouse dying makes me sad.  Yes, ok, they needed help.  They didn’t get it, either because they didn’t want it or they didn’t know how.  Such a tragic waste of something fantastic.

Every genius pays the price.  The currency being mental health.


One response to “A waste

  1. Sad and true. Personal (not professional) experience makes me have quite a harsh view of drug abuse. Once you have been touched by the devastation that it can bring your opinion is automatically warped. The curse of the genius….. never to be underestimated. Good Blog x

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