1983-2011

My dad was the first one to hand me an article about her in the spring of 2007. I kept hearing her on the radio. “They tried to make me go to rehab and I said ‘No! No! No!’” What a catchy song, I thought. She looked like nothing I’d ever seen: sporting a raven beehive, 8 mile long winged eyeliner and the striking face of a young woman who’d somehow already seen to much. She seemed mythical. “Who sings like that?” I wondered. My adoration of Amy Winehouse has spanned the past four years in a major way. Her albums “Frank” and"Back to Black" got me through my summer in South Africa. My rollercoaster of a senior year in high school. My loneliest of nights throughout college and my happiest of times while I lived in the UK. She was my all-purpose safeguard wherever I found myself and in whatever situation I encountered. When my friend texted me the simple but devastating phrase “Amy Winehouse is dead” my brain went blank.
It’s no surprise to anyone who’s ever heard of the woman or at least knows she popularized a song called “Rehab” that Amy had been troubled for years. She faced every issue one could imagine: not only was she addicted to hard drugs and alcohol but she suffered through eating disorders, self mutilation, and bipolar disorder. While many dismissed her as a wreck, I never could. I’ll admit that sometimes I wondered if her distress was all part of a tortured artist act that she’d made herself believe was a necessary part of being a famous singer. But whether she tricked herself into it or would’ve been as self-destructive had she stuck to small jazz shows in London, her work itself was incredible because it hit so deeply.
When she said “I brought you downstairs with a Marlboro Red” or “Yea, you know I’m no good” it made sense. Or “you should be stronger than me” and that “I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself” I got it. In spite of not having gone through many of the things she wrote about or having felt exactly as she did, her voice and her lyrics managed to transcend that disconnect between her experiences and my own. How could a person’s voice move you to hear them out in spite of not having been where she has?
Amy’s now a member of the “27 Club” of infamous and amazing artists like Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison and Kurt Kobain who all died at this young age. As soon as I learned she died, I thought about her age and I thought back to my fear from a few years ago that she would die at this age either accidentally or deliberately (as I suspect in this case) because it’s a perverse part of being known as one of the greats who are gone too soon.
Aside from the great loss I feel for her as a human being and as an artist, I feel most troubled by the fact that this is all the result of addiction and mental illness. Her death, in some ways, serves as a reminder of the power of substance abuse and the constant struggle that Winehouse and millions of others face. What is it about brain chemistry, life circumstances, and cultural attitudes that destroy lives and leads people to early graves? Is there anything that could’ve been done to help this bright, talented and innovative young woman before it came to her being carried away in a body bag a few years prior to her 30th birthday?
It always seems to me that part of the issue surrounding the link between mental illness and addiction is that aside from the genetic predispositions people have towards these conditions, there is little social recognition of the seriousness of these topics. It’s obvious that there’s got to be a societal shift in the way we understand these issues. That instead of throwing the word “crazy” around regularly (which I’m guilty of) and seeing being unstable as laughable, we learn to alter our language and educate ourselves more generally about what these diseases mean. They don’t mean that Amy (or anyone in a remotely similar situation) is weak. It’s not a question of willpower alone or toughening up. No one wants to be dependent on a substance to get him/her through the day. We need to realize that shaming someone doesn't fix the problem, either.Though I don’t know enough about non-Western societies’ attitudes towards addiction, it does seem to be an unfortunate international trend to assume that this disease is a moral failure.
If Amy’s death can illustrate anything, it’s that substance abuse is a devastating thing that can destroy those with promise at any time. I don’t believe for one second that people shouldn’t learn to take accountability for their actions and that they shouldn’t seek help from others when they need it (as she often tried to through her multiple rehab stints), but it’s clear that one way to avoid losing people is to open up a social dialogue about where addiction comes from and about how to respect the challenges that people like Amy face. If any of us looked around, we wouldn’t have to look for very long to find someone close to us who’s hooked on something. It could even be you. Why haven’t we found a way to be more socially responsible about these issues? What’s up with that? R.I.P Amy Winehouse 1983-2011.