Finally started watching Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck today. It has an interesting style. Stock footage opens the film, along with brief interview snippets from his parents, who are named in captions later on.

The director animated many of Cobain’s sketches and journal entries for the montage segments. There are home movies from various stages in his life, and audio recordings of Cobain describing his difficult teen years, etc.

I’ll admit, I sobbed during the early home movies, where viewers see his first few birthdays and Christmases. As a mom, it hits really hard to see someone’s little boy, only wanting love and attention, knowing he’s no longer alive, and that he experienced such immense pain and depression.

One of his pre-Courtney Love girlfriends talks about nightmares he had. Very violent ones. She’d suggested he talk to someone about them, but they couldn’t afford therapy at the time.

And his mother stated he was difficult to manage as a child, and that Ritalin or something akin to it prescribed by a doctor set him “off the rails.”

I think it was one of his band mates who mentioned his depression, and his dad tearfully observed that the depth of his agony was plain within the messages of his art and music.

I’m about an hour and a half in and had to pause, for my own well-being. It’s a lot. Very heavy stuff, especially for someone with similar mental health issues. Also, some of the images and video segments spliced between the interview bits are a bit disturbing, which I guess fits the vibe. Still a little triggering though.

Here’s some stunning Lora Zombie art made in partnership with HBO in connection with the film’s release: (and none of it is graphic or disturbing, I promise)

Lora Zombie’s Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck Art

Light rain falls outside as I type this entry.

How does all this relate to bright and sparkly things, and gratitude, you might wonder.

On the surface, it doesn’t; however, I asked a psychiatrist if we could try Lithium because of the Nirvana song. At the time, I was incredibly manic, and in and out of reality.

Out of concern for long-term possible side effects, I’m taking other things at the moment, but Lithium really helped when I needed it.

In-patient at the time, and I was trying to prove I could still care for and live with my daughter. Having access to that medication helped me win her back.

I was able to ground myself once again, and resume my responsibilities, while still indulging in creative play.

While I may not have any kind of hard-core chronic physical pain like he experienced, I’ve had moments of flirting with very dark thoughts, for reasons of my own.

But I try to remind myself that someone needs to keep going, for as long as humanly possible, to help remember all those no longer here, if even in the smallest ways. To keep making and appreciating art, and reaching out, and fostering community and connection.

To friends and family past and present, loved ones near and far, and to everyone who’s given me even a moment’s worth of solace, even if it proved fleeting, or our relationship ultimately severed, thank you. Thank you to my medical team and therapist, and the artists of every variety in my periphery.

And thank you to you, Kurt Cobain, for all the passion you poured into your music and various other projects, and for writing a song that, however anecdotally, helped me get my life back on track. I’m forever grateful.