ruthellie - Tumblr blog

[ruthellie]

Those Were The Days, My Friend.

Never in my life did I think that I would find myself in an Irish bar in the middle of corfu, but there we were.

I had been seeing someone for about a month, whilst feelings were yet to reach their most intense, it was my first experience ever properly ‘seeing’ someone. The act of dating was one that I was late to be introduced to. When he stood on my doorstep, 45 minutes late to our date, I knew it was the end. I could pre-empt his decision by the blue ticks of a read and ignored WhatsApp message. Even though it was expected, his words still knocked the air from my lungs. I waited until he left before crying and subsequently replaying every interaction we had had to identify just where in our short relationship I had gone wrong. 

His words upset me more than the fact that he was ending things. He said that I put myself down too much, something that I was actively trying not to do. Over the past six months I have actively been partaking in self care. Not just the kind of self care where you buy yourself something nice with the excuse of ‘treat yo self’ no, I had being delving into some real deep Self Care. I had finally found some medication that helps keep my mind clear, I had been eating well, going to the gym, hell I even had a skincare routine. I had been working on affirmations and goals and had started to work through some of the trauma of the past few years. I had actively been being kind to myself. The fact he said that I put myself down so much infuriated me. 

The next morning, I had a plan in place, I was going to live my life by the new age philosophy of Catch Flights, Not Feelings. Hot girl summer was pending andI was going to go to Greece and live my best life for a week. Mirroring the sentiments of Shirley Valentine, I was off. 

I arrived in Corfu exactly on time. The cabin door opened and the hot air hit me and instantly my mood changed. I was lucky to get a room in the apartments where I’ve stayed with family before, they greeted me with smiles and hugs. I was introduced to the children who were just a thought when I was last here. Although I was a paying guest, I felt like I was staying with family. This holiday I had three main goals, 1) relax, 2) work on my tan and 3) have an adventure. When I’ve been on holiday here before, I came with family and I was younger so we did the typical family holiday things, we would sunbathe and eat and visit local towns. Now I had returned as a woman, I wanted to explore the nightlife, I wanted to visit the towns on my own two feet were I could wander to my hearts content. 

I woke on the first morning and headed into Roda village, I walked along the coast and passed bars and shops that were waking before the tourists descended asking for beer, booze, and ice cream. A walk I’ve taken before made me feel such excitement for 8am. In the village, I saw a bus timetable advertising a service that I didn’t know existed. It went from Roda, to Acharavi, and ended in Kassiopi. That was tomorrows adventure sorted, I would go to Kassiopi and get croissants from the best bakery on the island. As I walked back to my apartment I listened to the Mamma Mia soundtrack and watched my own greek adventure play out in my head (minus the marriage and three baby daddy’s). 

Tuesday morning came and I walked back along the coast to the bus stop. Worried about getting on public transport in a different country, I asked my friend Jake, a well seasoned traveller, for some tips before I left home. ‘Just get on the bus’ they advised. With their words playing on loop in my mind I boarded and hoped for the best. €2 and 20 minutes later, I was in Kassiopi. We used to come here a lot when I was a kid. One of my mums favourite photographs was taken in a bar on the harbour. I got my croissants, and headed for the harbour for some breakfast. I sat in the open window and ate watching charter boats ferry tourists to and from the town. Kassiopi is one of the more affluent areas of the island and whilst I did my best to not pay attention to the class divide, I felt it a lot. Weary of not missing my bus I headed back to the piazza and sought shade under a tree with a can of Fanta lemon and my wrist going twenty to the dozen with a fan, trying to cool myself down. Sitting here, I met a trio of friends from Milton Keynes. We got talking and shared how we were finding the island so far. Being strangers for no more than 15 minutes, they spoke to me as if we had known each other for years. This one interaction cemented the feeling that I was going to be okay on this trip. I had done it, I had spoken to strangers and shared a story. 

Around the pool later in the day, I got talking to a couple from North Shields. Doreen and Dave had been coming here for the past 20 years. Halted by Covid, this was their first trip back. We got talking and I realised that we had probably been here at the same time in previous years. I was thankful for their conversation as that afternoon I had a brief pang of loneliness. Doreen was asking me about my plans for the week, I explained that I had none and was taking the days as they come, I shared with her my need to swim in the sea despite my fear of it. She told me to go in, she’d been in this morning and it was lovely. I sat with my self and mulled it over. I’ve come on holiday alone, I’ve travelled thousands of miles to be by the sea and now I was afraid. Never once in the planning of this trip did I feel scared, why now was I scared of going in the sea?

I pulled myself together and crossed the road to the beach. I stood on the shore and sank my toes into the sand. The sea, like the moon, does something to my soul. I simply had to go in. I kicked off my flip flops and waded in. Navigating the rocky bed I did my best to enter gracefully until a particularly mossy rock upturned me and I found myself fully submerged. It was like when you’re little and you make a big fuss of taking a plaster off, you build it up in your head as some excruciating pain and then your mum just rips it off and you forget what all the fuss was about. 

Florence and The Machine have a song called Various Storms and Saints. There is a lyric in the first verse that always draws my attention. “I don’t know how I don’t just stand outside and scream. I am teaching myself how to be free.” 

In that moment, floating on my back in the ionian sea, I fully understood those words. 

When I get sad, or have a bad day I find that music is my comfort. I can find songs that reflect the way I am feeling, I play them loud and I scream and dance and sing the feeling away. By teaching myself how to be free, I am learning how to deal with the trauma, how to handle the bad days, how to embrace life. I spent so much of my teenage years wishing that I didn’t exist, I didn’t want to die, I just didn’t want to live. I look back now and I feel so angry at myself for wasting so much time being sad. Laying in the sea, I felt something within me change. I felt a freedom that I have never felt before. Its’ just me, alone in the middle of the sea. I smiled up to the sky and promised myself that when days get bad I will close my eyes and think of this moment. 

The next day, as I was heading up to my room for a well earned nap, Doreen called to me from the pool. Her and Dave were heading into Roda that evening to see a guitarist in a pub and did I want to go with them. Not one to turn down an invitation I accepted and said I would meet them in the bar that night. I showered, put on the one dress I bought with me and painted my lips red. I wandered into the town and met them on a little table right in front of the stage. I looked up at the guy on stage and my heart fluttered. He was playing a traditional Irish tune and my heart felt full. Anyone who knows me knows that I love the Irish, I like Irish men, Irish music and the best mix of both, Hozier. I told Doreen and Dave and they too love Hozier. During the break I approached the guitarist and got talking, I explained our situation and asked for Hozier. Being the tactile person I am, I touched his arm in conversation. He was dripping in sweat, by reflex I blurted “God you’re so hot.” He chuckled and replied with a wink ‘I get that a lot.’ I felt my cheeks blush and was so glad that he would mistake it for sunburn. I spent the rest of the night singing my heart out and drinking cold beer. When I got in, I searched socials for this guy, but came up with nothing. 

During my trip, I wanted to visit the next town over. Sidari is more of a party town, there are bars and tourist shops, drag shows and tribute acts. Elpida, suggested I go on Saturday night as the locals will be out. Not wanting to be hungover for my last day I decided to go on Friday night. I walked into Roda and got the bus again. Whilst on the bus I met Tyriece and Charley, a couple from Norwich who had just arrived. We got talking and they praised me for solo travel. They invited me for a drink and we worked our way through the strip. Deep in conversation, we passed an Irish bar, my eyes flittered to the poster outside proudly proclaiming ‘TONIGHT NATE FURY, GALWAY LAD’. I gasped and my heart swelled with excitement, by accident I had found him. 

I had a few drinks with Tyriece and Charley, cocktails and shots on an empty stomach had given me a slight buzz and a bucket load of self confidence. I made my excuses and headed back to the Irish bar. I got a pint and sat at a table in-front of the stage. He smiled at me we said hello. I sat and watched his three hour set completely transfixed. I sang to every single song, I clapped my hands and slapped the table in time to the beat. I cheered at every break and I smiled constantly. In a busy pub, he had my undivided attention. I wasn’t just there because he was hot and Irish, I was there because the music was amazing. His looks were simply a bonus. 

At the end of the set, Karaoke was next. If there’s one thing about me, it’s that I LOVE karaoke. I chose a song and took the the stage. I didn’t just sing I performed. I moved with the words, accentuating my arms, legs, my side step  and my fingers, I made the bar know that there was nobody else here, no one like me. At the end of the song, the MC said it was nice to have someone who could actually sing, which naturally made my ego inflate to the size of Jupiter. 

I sat at the bar and nursed a couple of drinks, there was an Irish wedding in and so I talked to a few of the party, one particularly sweet lad, Kevin, was shocked that I was alone and all but insisted I come out for the rest of the night with them. Weary of getting myself home I declined and instead got his socials. 

Near to the end of my drink I looked around the bar and realised that I was the last person there, the lights were on and the floors were being swept. I laughed to myself and asked the barman to call me a cab. Nate came and spoke to me and I explained that I was not stalking him, that this was merely a fluke. He asked when I was leaving and told me to come back tomorrow night. I said  I’d come back if he played Hozier. He couldn’t make any promises but he was planning on covering Nelly’s Hot in Herre. I told him that that song is one of my guiltiest pleasures and that I knew every word, the MC suggested we duet and Nate asked if I could sing, before I could answer, the MC said that I was the one who sang earlier. Nate gave me a few beats and I started to sing. My taxi arrived and I promised that I would return. I got in the cab and apologised for keeping him waiting, I explained that I had just had the best night of my life. 

Solo travel is my new favourite thing, I can do what I want and not be constricted by others. It’s selfish and selfless all at the same time. I didn’t think that this trip would have been as good for me as it has been. I was thinking that I would go out there and have a lazy holiday. I didn’t know that I would be coming home with a banging tan and a new found sense of my self. 

For the past three days I have been joking that I am very close to simply staying here for the rest of the summer, renting a cheap apartment and getting a job in a bar. Whilst I know I can’t do that now, its made me want to plan for next year. I’ve written a manifesto for myself, outlining some rules for myself and how I plan to live.

So many people have told me that I am so brave to be going on holiday alone, last night Kevin called me a queen, and for the first time I agreed with him. I have given myself a power that a few years ago I didn’t know I could possess. I am fearless and I am free. I am proud of myself, for the work that I have put into myself and the person I have become. My outlook has changed and most days I wake up with a peachy outlook, the bad days still come, of course they do but now when people ask how I am, my first answer is always “Happy.” 

[ruthellie]

We Live Forever

As Monday arrived it brought with it the news that Keith Flint, raucous front man of The Prodigy, had sadly died at the tragic age of 49. Obituaries came flooding in along with fans and famous friends sharing their stories of how Keith had touched their lives. Placebo’s Steve Forrest shared how Flint had once comforted him after receiving some life altering news. James Blunt took to twitter to tell of how Flint was one of the kindest people in rock and roll. Yet the one post that added to the heartbreak was that of fellow Prodigy member, Liam Howlett. Howlett took to the bands Instagram page and said  “The news is true , I can’t believe I’m saying this but our brother Keith took his own life over the weekend, I’m shell shocked, fuckin angry, confused and heart broken ….. r.i.p brother Liam”.  

When I saw the post my heart sank lower than I thought possible, another of my icons had taken their own life. All I could think was ‘but he always looked so happy’. Watch any footage of The Prodigy wether it be a live performance or a music video and you will see Keith at the front, an enigma of energy and instigation. He united his crowds with the power of dance and taught a generation of kids that it was okay to be a bit fucking odd. As a band, The Prodigy broke boundaries and paved the way for others to follow, like a yellow brick road only the destination wasn’t to Oz but instead the dancefloor.

Keep reading

[ruthellie]

WE CARRIED ON...

Six years ago today I fell down the stairs after theatrically singing Welcome To The Black Parade. My tear filled eyes were to blame for a bruised back that added to the pain of the news that My Chemical Romance had decided to split up. News that crushed 13 year old me’s black little heart. 

Only recently had I legally bought my first My Chemical Romance album and now they were gone. My hopes of seeing them on tour were crushed. I cried and then began the mourning process by reaching for my iPod. 

Ask anyone who has a slight interest in MCR and they will tell you a story of how they got into the band. Friends of mine were introduced by their siblings, others stumbled across them in the pages of Kerrang!. For me, I first heard My Chemical Romance when visiting my aunts house at around age 10. Her two kids, who at the time were a few years older than me, were sitting in front of the computer pressing repeat on a lyric video. The words to Teenagers began floating across the screen and the two of them started singing along, near the end of it I was joining in too. I didn’t get the name of the band or what the song was called but I continued to sing it for about three weeks after.  

One afternoon after school not to long after the singalong, I was watching My Super Sweet 16 on MTV, completely unaware of what was to come. A massive cake was wheeled onto the stage and from within popped out Gerard Way. Gerard began to sing and the rest of the band appeared beside him. I was mesmerised. I took down the name of the band and Immediately hit up youtube. When my mother’s then boyfriend came to visit I begged him to download their back catalogue for me, and a few nights later, he came through. 

One pirate copied cd held their first three albums, I played the cd so much that eventually it stopped working. A few years later Danger Days : The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys was one of the first albums I bought with my own money. 

At age 13, getting into My Chemical Romance had a huge impact on the shaping of who I was becoming. I began to dye my hair darker, got a couple of piercings, and wouldn’t be seen dead without heavy eyeliner. I listened to the music and began to understand that it was okay to feel the way that I was beginning to feel. 

At age 19 I realise that for some people, most people even, getting into My Chemical Romance was bigger than that. Looking back now I realise that getting into MCR was the first time I felt like I was part of something. Their music united the outcasts, the freaks, the ones who didn’t belong. It brought us together and made us feel like we could carry on. The kids who sat alone crying in their rooms were no longer alone, they were united but the music. 

For a lot of people, music and fashion go hand in hand. The music gets darker and so do the clothes. I know first hand that sometimes the way that we dress attracts negative attention. If I had a pound for every time someone has called me a ‘fat emo’ or told me to ‘go slit your wrists’ I’d have quite a lot of money. For people who belonged to the ‘MCRmy’ this was a daily occurrence but It didn’t stop us from listening. The community surrounding My Chemical Romance let us be who we wanted to be. 

Its been six years since the devastating news but kids are still expressing themselves through the music of MCR. I still listen to them on the daily and scream along to Danger Days in the car. Although I missed their glory days, they’ve been there for mine. Through the ups and downs, My Chemical Romance have always had a song that expresses exactly how I feel. So thank you MCR for providing the soundtrack to my teenage years, and for encouraging me to be different. 

[ruthellie]

We Live Forever

As Monday arrived it brought with it the news that Keith Flint, raucous front man of The Prodigy, had sadly died at the tragic age of 49. Obituaries came flooding in along with fans and famous friends sharing their stories of how Keith had touched their lives. Placebo’s Steve Forrest shared how Flint had once comforted him after receiving some life altering news. James Blunt took to twitter to tell of how Flint was one of the kindest people in rock and roll. Yet the one post that added to the heartbreak was that of fellow Prodigy member, Liam Howlett. Howlett took to the bands Instagram page and said  “The news is true , I can’t believe I’m saying this but our brother Keith took his own life over the weekend, I’m shell shocked, fuckin angry, confused and heart broken ..... r.i.p brother Liam”.  

When I saw the post my heart sank lower than I thought possible, another of my icons had taken their own life. All I could think was ‘but he always looked so happy’. Watch any footage of The Prodigy wether it be a live performance or a music video and you will see Keith at the front, an enigma of energy and instigation. He united his crowds with the power of dance and taught a generation of kids that it was okay to be a bit fucking odd. As a band, The Prodigy broke boundaries and paved the way for others to follow, like a yellow brick road only the destination wasn’t to Oz but instead the dancefloor.

I was introduced to The Prodigy as a kid, my first memorable listen being in the car with my uncle.  Smack My Bitch Up came thrashing through the car speakers and I remember feeling my heart flutter as the song began to build, a feeling that I still get today. I remember going home and listening to Fat of The Land on Youtube. I’d discovered this angry angsty life changing album that gave me an enormous sense of catharsis. A catharsis that still resonates to this day. My local club, The Pink Toothbrush plays The Prodigy every week, Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love builds and fades into Voodoo People, I tilt my head back and wait for it to wash over my body. As it does I feel my own angst and anger (and god knows I’ve got a lot of it) fade away. As the night progresses and one song fades to another, The Prodigy is always greeted with a sea of cheers. 

To anyone on the outside Keith Flint would look like any other rockstar, but with the tragic news that he chose to end his own life we need to realise that despite people’s rock and roll exteriors, that’s not what’s always reflected on the inside. The conversation about mental health and the music industry needs to be opened up. Over the past few years we’ve lost too many amazing voices due to poor mental health, notably Chester Bennington and Chris Cornell. Whilst we don’t know if they had received help in terms of therapy or medication, we do know that things got so bad that they felt that they could no longer continue. These are people that could afford help almost instantaneously. These are also men. The conversation of mental health in general needs to be expanded but it also needs to be more inclusive of men. It’s so often that guys live with the expectations of having to ‘man up’ or that its weak to show emotion, but its this behaviour that then becomes life threatening. Keith, like Chester and Chris, was surrounded by people constantly and still it came as a shock that he had taken his own life. We need to talk more about our mental health and how we’re feeling. If we can send someone a text asking them if they’re going out at the weekend we can also ask them how they’re doing. 

The twisted fire starter may have passed but our hearts remain ignited. We will cherish Keith’s music and may his soul dance on forever. 

For more information on Mental Health and how to support your mates check out the links below. 

Help Musicians UK

Mind UK 

YoungMinds UK