Love Tore Me Apart, Peter. It Tore Me Apart.

Hello poppets,

How the dickens are we?

Gosh, today we certainly are going on a journey. One of heartbreak, healing and everything in between.

I was going through my emails when and advertisement for ‘Peter Hook & The Light’ popped up. My brain couldnt quite process what it was seeing as it went “Peter Hook & The Light”… “Peter Hook & The Light?”… over and over before proceeding to ‘Hooky?!’ ‘Joy Division, Hooky?!’

I proceeded to look at the advert before quickly exiting the whole thing.

See, take it back 12/13 years and I was sat discussing with two loved ones our love for Joy Division. Finding old interviews of Ian, trying desperately to copy those moves and watching Control on REPEAT.

Fast forward it 12/13 years being the only one left in that group.

Yeah, so there’s that. There’s no way to even describe how that feels. So much hurt, heartache and guilt, but then on the other hand confusion, but also gratitude at still being here myself. It’s an emotion (or group of them) that I have discussed with a lot of you before.

It’s not only that thing of having a traumatic background, but all those things that come with it. Being in hostels and unsafe housing, substance abuse and simply not being able to process that amount of trauma.

One day I went to count how many people I had lost through out my life, before I quickly stopped myself and realised it was probably best for me to not know.

My brain had automatically thrown away the idea of going. Yes, the girl that cheers you on to do all things in life. However, I just didn’t think I would be able to hold myself together. Not just for seeing Hooky, but that guilt of being the only one left.

On the day something started to tell me that I couldnt miss this and mainly the voice of those friends saying “For goodness sake woman, just go!”

Still there was so many emotions running through me and so many tears. I couldnt even quite pin point the tears. The loss of loved ones, the thought of going to see Hooky or trying to work out how I myself, was still here and all the guilt that comes with that.

Last minute I decided to just go. Not for me, but for all of us. I also decided to go alone for similar reasons. There were only two other people that I would have gone to this with and if I was the only one left, then it only felt right.

It was a celebration of life and the memories we did have together. Gratitude for my own life and hoping that I was making them proud.

I have to say after a day of tears I wouldn’t exactly say I was feeling my BEST, but I was determined to march on regardless. I ran a brush through my hair, put on a bit of makeup and that was me. (which definitely isn’t normally me for a gig!)

I had Joy Division blasting through my car all the way there (a good 2 hours of listening to Joy Division? Please.) thinking of all those wonderful memories not only we had, but I had myself in first finding Joy Division and the safety I found in their music.

It was so good to get to the venue and just find a sea of English folk and mostly northern. It felt like I had suddenly stepped over the boarder and gone home. It’s not that I don’t feel safe in NZ, but there is something wholesome about English folk and those accents that wrap you up like a warm hug.

Peter Hook & The Light started off playing some New Order song which to be honest, I was grateful for as it seemed to ease me in to the whole thing. I felt like I was doing everything in my power to hold myself together, unsure of how I was going to be when those classic Joy Division songs started playing.

When they did, my response was a little different to what I expected. Your girl actually held it together. I know, I know. Thank you, thank you. I actually was really surprised at myself. I mean, normally it doesn’t take much to set me off. However, I just sort of felt at peace? I don’t even think that makes sense. Comfort, love and I wouldn’t really say I normally believe in much when it comes to the afterlife, but I could have almost said it was like they were there with me.

Even through those moments of pure joy I couldnt help thinking about how great it would have been for them to actually be there or to pick up my phone and just text them and tell them how great it was. Talk about how we never thought we would be able to see such a thing, especially after Ian’s passing.

It truly was great and I am glad I pushed through despite feeling exhausted from experiencing every emotion going (and having a good cry in the car afterwards)

I find it difficult to know what to say on the topic of suicide. I feel ‘it gets better’ to sound so vague, but it’s true. When I wanted to leave this world oh so many times, it was because I thought I would continue to live in that pain that I felt in that moment. That just wasn’t true though and I only wish more had stayed to see that.

Don’t ever think you’re not loved, cared for or needed in this world. I would do anything to go back and tell those people that and many would with Ian too.