Grief still very much consumes me. I dream of James most nights, forcing myself to get back to sleep so I can dream of James being by my side still. The pain that runs through my body is still incredibly intense. Granty pants, fuckboy, fucker, Grant master, (just a few names James went by from me) had the pleasure of meeting me as a chubby toddler with a bad attitude.
Granty is a legend. FACT. He had talents that run incredibly deep and left the planet a better place because of his existence. When Becky died James became my rock, guiding me through my pain while struggling with his own. A creative soul, from the incredible tattoos that adorned his body to his insane musical talents. James played his guitar as I walked down the aisle on my wedding day. Then there's the skateboarding, just casually being a complete pro, skating around like an absolute dude. From letting me borrow his many hoodies and steal his favourite Kinks tee. James showed me love when I needed it the most, spent his life helping others while battling his mind every day. James struggled with cocaine addiction, I use the word "addiction" lightly. I don't think addiction is the right word, mental health is what consumed James, masking and trying to cope with his mental health led to the use of cocaine. I have a massive problem with labelling humans as addicts. Once you have that label slapped across your face, it sticks, hard. People don't casually fall in to a pit of self-destructive behaviour, there's a reason this happens and people need to ask WHY? Why is this person using self-destructive methods to cope? Judge less and help more. James put up an immense fight, he showed strength and courage. James was loved be so many and has left a trail of broken hearts that will be shattered forever. Male suicide is the biggest cause of death in men under 45. Families everywhere are currently going through the immense pain dealing with what suicide leaves. Men don't need to "man up" they need to talk up and be heard.