When Doubt Becomes Fuel — Nick Convine on Survival, Creativity and Showing Up

My chat with Nick Convine wasn’t complicated. It was honest.

And that’s what made it powerful.

We talked about music, of course. But we also talked about doubt, time, fear, and what it means to keep going when your mind tells you to stop. What followed wasn’t polished or motivational — it was honest. And that’s why it mattered.

Nick didn’t try to sell a story.

He just told the truth.

At one point, Nick said something that landed like it had been waiting for me to hear it:

“The second I want to quit is when I have to make something.”

He said it without bravado, like someone who has seen how fragile and precious time really is — someone who understands that doubt isn’t a wall, it’s kindling.

Turning Doubt Into Something You Can Use

Nick works mornings in aged care, comes home, and records into BandLab on his phone.

He listens to the wisdom of people who’ve reached their final chapters and chooses not to wait. When the self-talk turns sharp — You’re not good enough; this one won’t top the last — he turns the feeling into melody. He doesn’t numb it; he converts it.

That alchemy didn’t appear out of nowhere.

Growing Up Too Soon

At 13, he faced a diagnosis most adults can’t say aloud without flinching.

He remembers chemo

He remembers the 95% survival rate like a lighthouse

And remembers the hardest part of all: losing friends he met on the ward.

He doesn’t mythologise it. He just tells the truth — that music helped; that his mum listened; that he learned the value of a day.

Not Perfect - But True

There’s a tenderness in the way he talks about life now. He calls his sound cinematic, but what he’s really describing is a practice: being present enough to feel, humble enough to admit fear, and brave enough to make something anyway.

He freestyles first drafts like journal entries, returns with fresh ears, and builds around the words that ring true.

Not perfect.

But true.

What This Story Is Really About

And that’s the point of this Mental Health articles: to remind us that the creative mind isn’t healed by pretending. It’s steadied by honesty and action.

You don’t have to outrun doubt; you can use it. You don’t have to be fearless; you can be willing.

Nick’s story isn’t romanticised.

It’s lived.

Quite Takeaways For Aspiring Musicians

• Start where you are — with what you have — even if it’s a phone and a free app.

• Let community carry you: mentors, elders, friends who tell the truth.

• When the inner saboteur gets loud, make the thing anyway.

• You can edit tomorrow.

• Today, you show up.

  
  

Kindness Is Not Soft

I end my shows the same way every time — be kind to each other, and kind to yourselves.

After meeting Nick, that line feels less like an outro and more like a method.

Kindness isn’t soft.

It’s structural.

It’s what gives us enough safety to risk being real.

Between The Fear And The First Note

If you’re reading this on a hard day, here’s something you might need to hear:

Doubt doesn’t mean you’ve failed.

It usually means you care about something deeply.

You don’t have to fix your whole life today.

You don’t have to have all the answers.

You don’t even have to feel brave.

Just take one small step —send the message, make the call, get out of bed, drink some water, or simply breathe through the moment you’re in.

Progress isn’t loud. It’s quiet and stubborn and steady.

When you want to quit, Create.

That’s where resilience lives.

Right there.

Between the fear and the first note.

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.