JOY DIVISION
On April 6th 1980, Ian Curtis in a drunken stupor filled with rage and anger, grabbed a kitchen knife and began to cut himself on his wrists. He then proceeded to take the rest of his seizure medication to overdose. He called his wife, Deborah Curtis, nervous he didnt take enough pills to get the job done, paranoid he will instead live and be left with permanent brain damage. He then lied down, hoping to die.
2 Days later on April 8th, he walked out of the hospital with Tony Wilson, head of Factory Records, the label for his band Joy Division. They headed straight back into the studio, ready to sing. When asked if he was feeling alright, he would say
Ian would later perform to a room of 400 people that night, with all 400 unaware of what Ian was battling in his life.
Ian Curtis would not die that day. He would die by hanging a month later on May 18th via hanging, listening to Iggy Pop's "The Idiot".
I didnt get Joy Division when I first heard their music. Especially Disorder. In Hindsight I dont think I really ever understood the song.
Ian's lyrics on this song tells his frustration on his epilepsy and personal life. Ian was diagnosed with epilepsy in 1978. He would frequently have violent fits on and off stage. His medication would barely help his worsening condition. The side effects would make his everyday life worse as well as not help his fits at all. It got to a point where he could barely hold his children at all, in fear of having a seizure.
Ian also began an affair with Annik Honore, a musician from Belgium he met on tour. Ian would hold guilt over having this affair, as he had a child with his wife yet wanted to be with Annik. This inner turmoil would bother him up until his death.
That sentiment of wanting to feel normal is a sentiment I get. I dont have epilepsy nor am I having an affair with a belgian lady while having a wife and kid.
But I never felt normal. I always felt different. I always felt like there was something wrong with me. I was always into different things growing up. It became hard to make friends with anybody growing up . I remember my dad calling me a faggot for my interests and for how I would dress. I couldnt fit into the idea of machismo my dad would push onto me. Doesnt help that its always been a little hard for me to care about people. I would care about people but still feel strangely apathetic. Sometimes I felt like a machine trying to emote but just didnt have the programming coded in at all. It made it hard to get close to people. To make friends. To have relationships. And it doesnt help that for the longest time, I would often give into more primal desires, bordering on addiction.
I always felt like I would never know certain experiences in life. I would be unable to experience things that are normal for my age. Whether it be for fear, personal issues, or just plain inability, I would never experience these emotions. And that a man who wasnt as fucked up could experience these moments in life. The desire to be someone else, someone normal to experience these pleasures.
She came back into my life at a strange time. I didnt expect for it to go that way frankly. I didnt think I was ready for a relationship. But I didnt want to lose this opportunity. She was always someone I had things for. I had alot of guilt revolving around her. But I felt at peace when I was with her. All my anxieties would disapear. All my fears. All the paranoia. I felt things I didnt think I would feel. I felt emotions around someone I didnt think I would be able to experience or express. I remember thinking of the lyric I've been waiting for a guide to come and take me by the hand Could these sensations make me feel the pleasures of a normal man? alot. For lack of a better way to put it, I felt that maybe I wont be normal but I could still feel these emotions. I could actually care for someone. That I have the capability to make someone happy.
I realize how selfish and naive I was. Its nearing to a year. And I feel alot of emotions around her still. I feel scared when thinking about what I have around my brain about her. I feel like I didnt read what I signed up for. I know what the pleasures are. But Im scared to know what they feel like again. Im scared to get that close to anyone again. Not just because it hurts to put your heart into something just to see it fail and crumble. But because Im scared that its likely guranteed. I dont know how to care for people. And it scares me to think to try again, scared I wont care as much. And knowing that even If I did, I dont think I could actually provide what is needed. It makes me wonder if Ill ever feel these emotions again, and persuing this feeling without anyone else. Being truely content with yourself. Feeling comfortable in your own skin, despite everything.
I realize this is a shitty mess of a page. One bordering on rambling. But I need to post something eventually. This is the most complete cohrent thing I have written for this song. Will it make sense when I read it in the morning? Who the fuck knows