It’s five years this week since Michael Hutchence was found dead in his Sydney hotel room. I quite like Inxs and recently bought their greatest hits compilation – well worth a listen if you’re that way inclined. Liking the music has less to do with the reason I remember that event than you’d think, though.
It will be five years ago on Friday when my then girlfriend of almost three years arrived at the door of my student flat in Dundee and told me we were finished. She elected to stay for dinner and that weeks’ episode of Friends, before she left for the last time and I trudged back from Dundee bus station to what was left of my life.
I was absolutely crushed, natch, and pretty much thought my world had come to an end by the time I got back to the flat. I contemplated suicide that night – checked out the pipes and stuff in my small room and figured that hanging myself was the easiest way of doing it with what I had to work with.
That idea was discarded when someone told me that Michael Hutchence had done that very thing, although I suspect he had different reasons. Once you’ve shagged the heady heights of Paula Yates and Kylie Minogue I guess it must be kind of difficult to get a boner by yourself unless you’re doing something weird!
Ha ha! Fuckit – this was meant to be a serious post!
Well, anyhow – as you can guess, I snapped out of it and here I am, half a decade later much the better for not going through with it.
It was kind of weird recently when I was put through a similar emotional roller-coaster. I was thinking “Oh no – here we go again!”, although fortunately things seemed to magically recover just when I thought all was lost.
Not sure where I’m going with this, and if you’re with me this far then top marks for sticking it out. The point is, I guess, that I hope I can look back at that point in my life in another five years and recognise that even in my darkest hour I had the strength to carry on and get back on my feet again.