Yesterday, we learned that Linkin Park frontman Chester Bennington had died after an apparent suicide. It’s been a while since I’ve listened to Linkin Park, but I’d be lying if I told you that I didn’t listen to their debut album a billion times when I was in middle school. There were lots of long car rides all over the state of Massachusetts playing AAU baseball as a kid, and Hyrbid Theory was always in my CD player.
Back in May, Chris Cornell took his own life and the Seattle legend was honored at the Mariners game that night. Last night, the Dodgers did the same thing for Bennington, which was a really nice gesture. Cornell and Bennington were very close, as Bennington had performed at Cornell’s shows and vice versa.
After Cornell’s death, Bennington wrote a heartfelt letter to him, and sang ‘Hallelujah’ at his funeral services.
Perhaps most hauntingly, Bennington took his life on what would have been Cornell’s 53rd birthday in a similar fashion to how Cornell ended his own life. Depression is the worst. We all deal with it to a certain degree, whether you’re comfortable admitting that or not, but it’s worse for some than others.
Whenever there’s a suicide, I immediately feel sick to my stomach thinking about how much pain that person must have been in to have gotten to that point, but then I also think about the people who have now been left behind. In any suicide, there will always be people close to that individual who will now feel guilty for the rest of their lives, thinking that there was something that they could have done. It’s an awful, awful feeling.
So, my heart goes out to those people. It’s also very disheartening to realize that you could have millions of dollars, the adoration of hundreds of thousands of fans, a wife, kids, and still be in so much pain that death is more appealing to you than a life where you seemingly have it all. I hope they’re both at peace now. Rest in peace, Chester Bennington.