Will this horrible tragedy be the end of Foo Fighters?
For those that don’t know, Taylor Hawkins was the drummer for the legendary rock band Foo Fighters. He passed away a month ago at age 50 in Bogotá during a world tour. I haven’t been able to write about it because of shock and denial.
From news reports, it seems his death was due to an overdose—the reason why doesn’t matter. Everyone has demons, and being a musician at that level of fame and renown is an experience I can’t fathom. It’s hard enough to do regular work when you have issues. To do that for months or years after every album, to be on it that long must be incredibly stressful. He’s gone, and the world will never again have his unique style of playing drums.
Taylor Hawkins is the third prominent musician of a favorite band dying. The others are Chester Bennington of Linkin Park and Chris Cornell of Soundgarden/Audio. While the deaths of Bennington and Cornell were to suicide, Hawkins’s death is still painful. From what I know from Foo fighters documentaries and being a fan, the man had his darkness.
Naturally, all the concerts the Foo Fighters had scheduled were canceled. This is also the second band mate that has died in tragic circumstances for band leader Dave Grohl. The first was Kurt Cobain of Nirvana. I feel so bad for him and all of the Foo Fighters family.
I thought they would be okay that they were invincible. I forgot that they’re human too. I love their music and have been a fan since I heard them play on the radio for the first time in the 90s. Since they started here in Seattle, they’re rock royalty. Even with all their fantastic hit songs, success, and Grammys, you can find them playing on local rock stations any time of day.
Yet, I never saw them live. I missed out. Right before this tragedy happened, I had just started listening to their newest album, Medicine by Midnight. Even if Dave plays drums (and Mr. Grohl is a legendary drummer in his own right) or they find another drummer, it won’t be the same. Nobody plays drums or has the same music sense as Taylor Hawkins.
I’m not a concert person, and I have all their albums on Spotify, but it’s not the same. That’s a loss, after all. Grief sucks every time.
He leaves behind a family with three kids, bandmates like brothers, millions of fans, and an impact on the world that can’t be replaced. Rest in peace, Taylor.
Another small covid outbreak at work… I know there’s another surge, but come on. Enough is enough. The timing is not great. My boss was nice about me notifying them about the doctor’s note I gave them about missing two days’ work. I went to urgent care on Sunday because I woke up with chest pain and had trouble breathing. I wasn’t sure what was happening. I got up, focused on breathing, got some water, and waited to see how I felt and to look up my symptoms on duckduckgo. I did get the vaccine two days earlier, the Moderna booster ( the previous two shots, the Pfizer vaccine series), so while I was concerned, I decided to see how I felt in the morning. I had similar but less severe symptoms, so I played it safe, called the nurse line for my healthcare, and sought advice, which was to go to urgent care. Thankfully after a series of tests, I’m okay. I can’t relax because I suspect this bill will be a couple of grand because of our shitty healthcare system in America. I have the best plan I can afford. I’m glad I’m okay on the typical tests, and this is likely a combination of panic attacks and mild booster symptoms, but ugh. I’m tired of the coronavirus and the pandemic… Tired of long Covid controlling my life. Ugh.
I’m already dealing with post-verbal warning emotions; I assume I was under close watch after my big mistake last week. Coco had to go to the emergency vet last Wednesday because there was blood in her urine. It turns out to be a UTI after tests. She’s been peeing in my room on clean laundry and my bed, even after I did all my laundry. I’ve had to use a spray bottle with water on Coco to stop her from peeing everywhere. We haven’t had to use this to correct her behavior for a long time. I had no choice. I take her off my bed, then she leaves the room, comes back, and tries to pee again. Thankfully it’s only a handful of drops, and I’m not seeing blood or pink-colored urine. It’s still gross. It’s frustrating because I don’t want her to suffer from pain or a UTI. It’s frustrating because I still have to deal with this while not doing great emotionally or physically. Thank goodness mom offered to help do laundry.
Radical acceptance, one hour at a time.
Life’s been so stressful lately. I have to focus on what’s going well. I’m killing it with boundaries, values, and communication. I began from a Pot Hole and am choosing effective responses. The past seven days started with boundary mistakes and adjusted. I’ve been standing up for myself, what I believe is correct, and accepting feedback from others. The blow to my ego and shame from breaking my values at work is lessened. Sending an apology message to my bosses helped. Now, I have to have faith that things will work out for the best. I’m doing everything I can.
I’m not letting anxiety take over completely. Thanks past, Reilly! Because you didn’t give up on working on therapy, on yourself, or the problems you learned about Radical acceptance. I’m participating in life. I’m feeling everything. You did that. I’m filling my tank. It’s okay to ask for things you need. For help from others. It’s not black and white.
It’s not arrogant to take care of yourself and be kind to yourself when life’s tough. Or any regular day, for that matter.
Maybe this is that quote on self-improvement Instagram accounts that goes something like: “This situation is showing you what you can handle, and that you handle much more life that you think you can.”
This week is showing me that I’m ready for more. Soon as my mental and physical health recovers. I’ve been kicking ass at life, finally, despite long covid. Remember the good stuff. The small stuff. I am getting better, slowly. I am becoming a better adult, slowly. Slowly forward.
Made a classic rookie mistake… Overshared an email.
Song one of the post: Shame, Shame by Foo Fighters:
This week I made a big mistake at work. It is my fault, and I accept the consequences. I sent an email about an issue and sent it to too many people. I am breaking the chain of command. As a result, losing face with upper bosses due to the timing and content of the email. This message should have been limited to specific people, and I overstepped the lines of my job. Thus, I had a verbal warning meeting (from context, I believe this is the case) about how and why I messed up. This is the first time in my working life that I have had this happen to me. A conduct meeting about my actions as a manager (This being my first manager job) and the consequences of my efforts on the company. I am working on drafting an apology and prepared to make amends for anything my supervisors want me to do or not to do. I know that the best apology is changed behavior. Hopefully, this can be an excellent first step to repairing this relationship.
Coincidentally, I was off work yesterday and today because I scheduled the Covid booster for April 14th, about what I assume is three months after I first caught Covid. This time off couldn’t have come better with things hot at work. I have been thinking hard and reviewing past mistakes to see if there is a pattern of behavior that I need to improve.
I originally had a paragraph focused on past job mistakes that I deleted. I was in a writers knot and decided to catch up reading blogs I follow, and this gem of a post by Anthonia’s Blog was perfect timing:
So flagellating myself online and shooting the second arrow at myself isn’t productive. That is not who I am anymore, and I have had enough of hurting myself and others this way. By staying in the past, in pain, I am not growing, I am not healing, and I am not living in the present.I am not moving forward.
Everyone makes mistakes. It is an unavoidable part of life. All I can do is choose my response and choose my behavior.
Learning Boundaries by example.
Boundaries and communication is a skill I am working on. It’s been a life journey.
This situation has me feeling cautious about how to proceed to communicate. I think I’m on thin ice and need to be careful how I respond. On the one hand: I want to demonstrate through words that I understand what I did, take accountability by apologizing with amends, and how I will proceed going forward at work. On the other hand, I want to respectfully stand up for myself, ask follow-up questions, and respond. A core of this problem is miscommunication. For now, I’m sad and mad.
Though I am upset and let down by myself for my mistake and the verbal warning, what hurts most is finding out that my job is different than what was initially told to me. My company made this new position, I assume, for me after I was moved after three weeks at my previous post. I was told I’m better suited for analytical work and that this would be a lateral move. It’s not. It’s to a lower position, a clear step-down, essentially what I assume is an assistant manager role. Which is not what I was told and not explicitly said. This was after I asked for clarification from my boss since the job description was light. I feel irritated and misled as I think this should have been crystal clear. Now I am underneath the department in which I was previously manager. That is something that should be said at the beginning. I’m disappointed because I can’t trust or see those above me the same as before.
This situation has its upsides. It allows me to see how to set boundaries and fairly communicate them to others. It has shown me my job and not what I assumed it was. It has made me ask myself: What do you want? It reminded me of what I am at this job for. It is a job and a place I enjoy working at. It is a conditional relationship. Therefore…
I am staying, but I am adjusting. I am refocusing my energy on my job duties and life instead of work. I will do the job to the best of my ability as I currently am, but I will use that excess energy on things in my life that need it. I have neglected important aspects of my life to focus on work, and I have pushed those thoughts aside. I did need that time to master this new position, but that time has passed. From now on, I will only do what is in my job description, nothing else. That is the impression I get from work, so that is what they get.
Soon as I recover from long covid (gotta stay positive and wish for the best), I need to move. It’s been a goal of mine for years. I haven’t due to my mental health and constantly being in survival mode for work. A mix of Murphy’s law and things not working out. Life…
That’s settled in the past. I feel stable and confident with life again. (It’s been a long time since I felt like this. So long it feels unusual but familiar). I have work concerns, and I’m anxious about the managers’ meeting, but that’s normal, even for a good job. I like where I’m at—finally, the right thing at the right time. There’s a rumor that the trimmer crew will be moving up to the farm, which is about a 90 minutes drive (or longer during rush hour). That includes me in this new manager job. I’ll find out this week. I don’t want or like a long commute. I want to keep working at this company, so it’s a condition I am willing to accept. It will give me the motivation to go forward with moving.
(I had a playlist, but it looks like its only showing a preview. So… I had to redo it on youtube.)
A change of scenery
It’s long past the time I move out. I’ve felt this way before. I couldn’t do anything about it because of not have work I could emotionally rely on. This is the only home I’ve lived in. The only place I’ve lived. I need to be on my own. I’ve been here too long; I don’t feel like I belong in this neighborhood. Seattle feels stale to me too. There are many other places which would be better. Rent will be expensive, but I am capable of making it happen. It’s going to hurt leaving the family cat, Lucy. I’ll miss Lucy so much. It’s going to be painful to break her heart. I will have to split up Lucy and Coco. I will miss mom, but I can come to visit. Not sure if Lucy will forgive me, being a cat. Eventually, I want to adopt a second cat for more company and a (hopefully) buddy for Coco.
I have to do this. I’ve noticed that when coming home from work, I feel progressively worse as I get closer to home. I’ve seen a constant low depression/anxiety/ and uncomfortable feeling being home with no reason to. I can be myself there at work, outside here at home, not. It’s simply not the place for me any longer. Nothing wrong with that. I don’t feel I can be the best version of myself here. Or live the life I want. I’ll still be me, and wherever I go, there I am. I’ve changed, and the neighborhoods changed. We’re on different paths.
With the covid situation here improving and my health improving, I can finally start toward this goal. It’s been one setback or letdown after another over the past four years. I can also have a social life and become more comfortable with the autistic pieces of me. Some things are not the same over zoom versus in person. I’m already experiencing this at work as I open myself up to others and feel safe.
This was the first Saturday where I felt an average amount of exhaustion. We did deep cleaning at work on Friday for a couple of hours, which was necessary. Once again, my boss showed up ready to do the dirty work with supplies and lunch—mad respect for that. I think the detailed cleaning triggered physical fatigue. So, while my physical condition is improving, and the day to getting boosted is close, I still got to be mindful.
Damn you long covid!
I haven’t been able to forgive myself
For the relationship war crimes, I committed to a former friend. I’m guilty.
I don’t want to feel like this. I like this pain to be over. After two years, the pain has slowly lessened, but it comes up if I’m triggered or have flashbacks.
I don’t like hating myself for how badly I let my feelings get the best of me.
I’m tired of this loop replaying in my mind.
I don’t like being stuck in the past with this.
I have and am doing the work to being a better human and working on myself, communicating my needs, listening, and being mindful of others’ needs and addressing the grief, the ruminating thoughts, and fighting back against it.
I’m not a victim. I’m human. I make mistakes. I learn from them, at my own pace. This is due to me. I am responsible for that.
I can’t change the past. I can change the present and, therefore, the future.
I want this suffering to be over.
This is my mess, my journey. My choices led to this point. I have to remind myself to keep moving forward. Let me face my feelings and experience each moment. This is the consequence of my actions.
That relationship is broken and can’t be fixed. It’s far too late for that. All I can do is continue to change my behavior to be a better human in the future. I have since and continue to be, better.
These shame-powered flashbacks are setbacks and not full-stop roadblocks. I must remind myself that these triggers are happening less and less as time goes on. It’s factor that I’m vulnerable to this rumination because of my body fighting long covid. It’s a rarity.
I watched Rocky Balboa recently… Kind of the perfect movie for my mood at the time, and not feeling physically well. This scene is an excellent speech about life.
Just have to keep getting up and moving forward. Lots of good is happening. It’s challenging because it’s inner growth. That is progress. I am grateful. Noticing “good” is just as important as seeing “bad.” Keep moving forward.
I need to practice self-compassion and be kinder to myself. Having long Covid has been difficult. I’m not over it. Being mindful of my health has been a daily, hourly thing. Today has felt long, and I’m tired as I type this at 10:27 pm Wednesday. Yeah, you don’t have all life mastered or figured out. That’s okay. It’s okay to live one day at a time!