1. How did you deal with the death of Michael Jackson?
I first heard about his death through a message my friend sent me via telephone, actually. At first, I felt absolutely nothing--I was completely numb and in shock. This lasted for about a week. I couldn't believe it had happened, since I always thought he would live 'forever,' that I would die before he did. However, this was obviously not the way things turned out to be. After the first week passed, a dark cloud of deepest sorrow loomed on my horizon, and for the next year, I was to grieve intensely for the loss of this most exceptional and beautiful man. During this time, I used to go on walks--long, four-hour walks, listening to his music non-stop, as a way to connect with him. I know it's utter nonsense, but by doing this, I felt connected to him. It's inexplicable, but I did, I felt closer to him than ever. Yet, I still mourned his absence from the physical plane, from his children's lives, from the music world. I cried a lot--each episode lasting only a few seconds, but recurring throughout that year. I thought of death and the meaning of life, a lot--what is truly meaningful, and does life go on after death? I dreamt of him so much during the summer and fall of 2009--beautiful dreams, terrifying dreams, but dreams in the end.
2. What did you think when you first heard about it?
I did not believe it at first--I thought it was surely some sort of sick joke. Then, I found out via CNN that it was indeed legitimate, and I instantly went numb. It takes a while for things to really 'hit home' with me, and the bigger the loss, the longer it takes, usually. For that whole first week, I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was as though I too had died.
3. What emotions did you feel?
Michael's death has stirred the most amount of emotions I have ever felt. I am, by nature, a person with a very limited range of emotions--I am utterly emotionless 99.9% of the time. I feel no joy, no sorrow, no anger, and no fear. I am in all imaginable ways, hollow. However, once the death started to hit home--and I mean really hit home, wreck home, burn it to the f--ing ground...once that started, I cried, sometimes for a few seconds (most of the time due to my limited capacity), but on very rare occasions, I cried for longer than that. I felt angry at Murray for having murdered him, and then having the nerve to claim innocence--as if anyone in their right mind believed that! I obsessed with the investigation into Murray's involvement, I wanted him dead. During moments of serenity, particularly on the above-mentioned walks, I felt joy--I felt as though he never left at all, and he was everywhere, bringing a new sense of beauty to the world, as I looked through it with brand new eyes. Yet, at times, I felt fear--my anxiety stemmed forth because of my feeling as though, with the progression of time, people would forget about Michael. The lack of any true closure in the events which followed Michael's death did naught but elevate that fear, to such a degree that, for a while, I even entertained the 'Michael is still alive' and 'Michael was murdered by the Illuminati/Freemasons/Etc' conspiracy 'theories.' Entertained is a bit of an understatement on my part, as I obsessed over both of those hypotheses, because I was so desperate for answers. In retrospect, none of them make much sense at all, but to someone who is stricken with grief and desperate for answers and closure, sense and logic aren't really top priorities.
4. Where were you when you heard it?
I was out walking.
5. How did your behavior change?
For a long time, I became somewhat of a lunatic. Like I stated previously, I obsessed with following the story, in real life and in the abstract realm of varied hypotheses and conspiracies. I stayed up entire nights going through every resource, looking for that elusive "aha!" moment with which to bring some sense of closure and resolve, to seal up the glove-shaped hole in my heart. My emotions, previously static, became a scattered mess, yo-yo ing from peaceful serenity, even joy, to terrible sorrow, infernal anger, and a gnawing fear of watching everything fade into dark. I wanted to talk about nothing but Michael, listen to nothing but Michael (which I did throughout that summer), surround myself with nothing other than Michael's image, sound, everything. I even dressed up as him and wore nothing but Michael Jackson shirts every day for the duration of my senior year in High School--all to hold on to his memory for dear life. I never realized just how important he had been to my life until he left--I'm not one to go for celebrity worship/adoration (most people who obsess over celebrities frighten me, actually), and since I thought he'd be around even after my death, I didn't see any value in actively holding on and closely following every event he had going--the last time I paid any real attention to him, prior to his death, was from 2003-2005, when that horrid trial took place. I obviously supported him, not only because I loved his music and his personality, but because the prosecutor's story was absolutely ridiculous and thus abhorrent to anyone who is a logical thinker. In any case, after that died down and he was acquitted, I went back to my life--casually following news on him until June '09. After he died, however, I became obsessed with 'stopping time,' a common reaction of the grieving mind to a great loss. I longed for stagnation--anything but change, anything at all. I wished for the tributes to go on forever--seeing so many people come together and be united by their love for a man I so deeply admired was moving, and I wanted it to go on for all time, so that I would never have to move on. This is, of course, reverting to a more infantile logic--it is practically impossible for that to happen, but I wanted it to happen with all my heart. I wanted to immortalize Michael through people's (and my own) grief, so that he would never be forgotten, and thus I would never have to cope with the loss--never change, never accept the new reality, because he would be eternal. This endeavour was an exercise in futility, but grieving makes us irrational. After 2009-2010, my year of intense grief, I began looking at the process as an actual experience--an evolution of events, something fascinating in its own right, something from which something else could grow. I realized Michael will never be forgotten, I knew I would always love him and he would always live in my heart and in my memories, so there was no need to resist or fear the process--with things like time and the progression of events, resistance is futile. I would not lose him a second time--but I would gain a whole new perspective on such valuable topics as life, its meaning, and the impact one human's existence can have on an entire planet. I am, as of now, still in the process of that journey.
6. Who did you tell about the event?
At first, no one. I kept it to myself. The friend who told me about his death had never been a big fan of his. She liked his music, but that was about it. Her sister, by contrast, is a huge fan--but I never met her sister (for obvious reasons, I will not divulge their personal life/circumstances here), so she was obviously unavailable to be with me during that time. During the first month, I suffered in silence, because I've never had any friends who were MJ fans, one, and my family and I don't get along at all (and they're not MJ fans in any case.) My initial mechanism for coping with Michael's passing was by watching his videos, listening to his music, watching funeral footage over and over again--even his interviews with such repugnant figures as Oprah and Bashir--not because I cared about what they had to say, but because I wanted to hear him talk, and pretend he hadn't gone. Those were the initial stages. Later that summer, I reached out to the friend who had told me about his passing, and I talked about him obsessively. She was kind enough to understand and oblige, and helped me cope by being supportive. We baked a cake for Michael on his birthday and watched his videos all day (there was a beautiful rainbow that day.) We went to watch This is It. We took my sister trick-or-treating--with me dressed as Michael (she was a fairy, and my sister was a witch.) She bought me a Michael Jackson shirt for my birthday. She bought me a beautiful Michael Jackson poster for Christmas. When I went away to college, she bought me another beautiful Michael poster for the dorm. On my birthday this year, she bought me the Vision DVD collection (all just for One More Chance, and the prison version of TDCAU, lol.) She's been so supportive and wonderful throughout the long process of my grief and I will be forever grateful to her for that--but the majority of my grief was spent in private. My family was nowhere near as supportive once it was no longer a secret--my brother made fun of Michael in a very mean-spirited manner, my mother at first did the same, but then she stopped. I felt alone in my grief, and that was my main reason for joining MJJC, actually. I had been lurking here forever, following the news and information thread obsessively, for the last half of 2009. During the new year, I decided to join in an attempt to reach out to others, to talk about Michael. Before my joining MJJC, I had never belonged to any celebrity fan forum, as I mentioned earlier, I'm not keen on such things. However, Michael was not just a celebrity--he was a philanthropist, an artist, a poet, and one of the most exceptional and eccentric souls to have ever lived. His presence was magic, is magic. So, I decided to join, and do not regret it. To this day, MJJC is the only celebrity fan forum (actually, the only forum, period) I am an active member of. My experience here has helped me progress in my grief, and I have met some wonderful and kind-hearted people here. I've said it many times, on many threads and posts, MJJC is the closest thing to a family I have, and I love you all with utmost sincerity.
7. Whats your goal now that you have experienced this event?
I want to live. It's been difficult, dealing with the grief, in combination with all the events surrounding my life. I want to be strong like Michael and withstand even the greatest opposition. I want to help people, like he did. He's my inspiration, he's my hero, he's the true love of my life, and he's saved me more times than he will ever know. There is nothing I can say that will suffice, to thank him for all the times he's been there. However, there is something I can do, something he would like very much, and that is to live. To truly live, and to do what he can no longer do in his name. I don't want fame, or wealth, or even love--but what I long for more than anything else is meaning. I would peacefully die knowing that I found meaning in my life. Michael's life taught me that--he wasn't like other celebrities who are obsessed with their own fame and with the glamourous life--he sought something more, some form of meaning through philanthropic efforts, through music and art, everything he pursued had the force of his all. I want to model my life in his example. My personal calling happens to be the pursuit of knowledge, so I intend to give that my all, and to find meaning in that way. I will teach, and hopefully I will inspire my future students as Michael inspires us through his music and his life--to seek beyond what is apparent, to reach for something more.