One Week Out — Holding It Together & Falling Apart

It’s just over a week until Farewell – Music in the Valley, a day to celebrate the life of Tay.

Between breakdowns ( or menty-B's as he called them), a lot is happening.

From the outside, it probably looks like I’m coping. People tell me I’m strong. They tell me they don’t know how I’m doing it.

And I nod, because explaining the truth feels heavier than carrying it.

What they don’t see is the crying every day.

The pacing in circles, replaying conversations, asking myself what I should do… what he would have done.

They don’t see the PTSD moments that arrive without warning.

They don’t see that eating is still hard.

That sleep only comes when exhaustion finally shuts my eyes — not because rest feels safe.

They don’t see that I still can’t open the blinds.

Grief is strange like that. You can be “functioning” and still completely shattered.

I managed to stand in the area where the memorial garden will be. I held it together — right up until I made it back inside. Seeing the post, half-exploded, knowing why it looks that way… knowing we’re doing what we’re doing because Tay isn’t — that hit hard.

This whole process only works because I’ve had to turn the funeral into something that feels like an event. Not because he was just an event — although the Leo he is would love it — but because that’s the only way my brain can organise the impossible.

Timelines. Logistics. Music. People. Structure.

If I don’t think that way, I don’t function at all.

And that’s before you add in the reality of farm life changing. Selling dreams we built together. Letting go of plans that once felt certain.

Realising I have to make new dreams now — and that some days, even imagining that feels like betrayal.

But I will make them. Slowly. Honestly. When I can.

One of those dreams is still BTN.

Tay believed in what I was building, even when I doubted it myself. So I’m going to keep pushing — turning BTN into the platform he thought it could become. I’ll keep getting out there as media. I’ll keep writing real, honest, kind reviews of the incredible artists we have in this world.

Because music is still calling me.

I hope it lets me travel. I hope it lets me follow the music for a while. I hope BTN can help shift how we see musicians — not as distant idols, but as real people navigating life, loss, pressure, joy, and everything in between. I want media that remembers compassion. For all people.

So yes — I look fine.

And yes — I’m beginning to function.

But this is a journey. A long one. Toward discovering a new version of me.

I’m still Uncle Tatt — maybe even more so now, with the new tatts etched into my skin. And whether I’m ready or not… the music is calling, like the Pied Piper.

I don’t know exactly where it’s leading yet......

But for now, I’m listening....

You Are Not Alone  

If this story resonates with you, please reach out. Talk to someone. Visit BTN-Music.club for more Mental Health Chats, stories, and support links. Because your voice matters — and the world needs to hear it.