Good-Bye, Michael - My private obituary

Silke77

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Michael Jackson – An obituary

Peter Pan is dead. The boy who didn`t want to grow up finally cracked because he strived for perfection and followed his urge to only give his best.

But who was Michael Jackson? In order to find an answer to this question, one has to take a look behind the mask of the man who many people called a freak, sometimes even a monster.

Once, there was a boy who did everything to gain his father`s approval. He worked until complete exhaustion overtook him in order to make his family proud and not to disappoint his numerous fans.

Literally beaten to success by an ambitious father, he spent his childhood on stages all over the world, on TV and in recording studios. Soon it was not possible to partake in the normal, every-day life that other kids knew. Caught in the golden cage of his fame, of his own fears and inadequatenesses, Michael later referred to going shopping in a supermarket as being one of his ultimate dreams.

While being constantly in the public`s focus, his family (mainly his father) conveyed him the idea that he was ugly. As a consequence, the older he became, the more he saw his dreaded father`s image starring back at him whenever he glanced into the mirror. There were times, as Michael would recall later when he was already an adult himself, when his father`s presence and likeness made him physically sick – so sick that he had to throw up. His biggest fear –aside from the lifelong fear of failure and not being perfect – was to actually become like his father. As he didn`t want this to happen, he took actions in order to prevent this. First and foremost, his nose had to go, had to be changed. But he was never content with the result, and an unprecedented odyssey of plastic surgery was to follow.

His often fragile emotional condition and the lack of self-confidence were reflected in his poor health. Even as a young man he had trouble eating, was way too skinny and often had to be persuaded to eat. In addition, he had a problem with his pulmonary, as he himself stated in his autobiography Moonwalk. This landed him in hospital quite often. He also suffered from the autoimmune disease Lupus and from Vitiligo. Exhaustion and being very sensitive to sunlight are just two of the more harmless symptoms of these diseases that Michael tried to fight in his own way: He was usually protected by an umbrella while out in the bright sun and spent lots of time in the semidarkness of hotel rooms. It was due to Vitiligo, which causes the de-pigmentation of the skin, that he had blotches all over his body. Sometimes you could even catch a glimpse of shreds of skin on his hands and wrists. He used cosmetic measures in order to conceal the blotches on his face – after all, he was one of the most photographed persons of contemporary history.

Wherever he went, the detested paparazzi followed, weren`t even stopped by locked restroom doors, as Jackson reported in the shocking TV interview given to US journalist Barbara Walters on the occasion of Princess Diana`s death in 1997. He was appalled at the princess` tragic death, as Diana had been one of his confidants and shared the same fate.
In any case, friends and confidants were scarce. Without having any support from his family who, - with the exception of Janet – always used to see him as a kind of cash cow and pretty egoistically used to emotionally blackmail him, Michael also didn`t have any people in his environment whom he could have trusted wholeheartedly.

There was his maternal friend Elisabeth Taylor, whom Michael loved and adored above everything. His long-term Nanny Grace also counted to the trusted few. Nevertheless, there sadly was no one who offered Michael advice and guidance in a world that often was alien to him and that he was unfamiliar with.

Many would have wanted to be his friend, a fact that Michael was well aware of. But he always doubted the motives of such wishes. Looking back, one has to say that he was wide of the mark in the couple of cases where he managed to put his doubts aside. Betrayed by his longtime manager Bob Jones, who committed the ultimate breach of trust in 2005, deceived by Journalist Martin Bashir who accompanied Michael several weeks, even gained entrance to Neverland and to whom Michael entrusted many private things. In allowing Bashir to have these insights into his life, Michael`s aim was to let the world, who regarded him as “Wacko Jacko”, know that ultimately, he was just a plain normal human being. Bashir was supposed to let the people see the man behind the mask, but he managed to twist the facts and interview snippets in such a way that the opposite was achieved. Unfortunately, in our society a freakshow sells way better than a story about a person who is good-hearted and refreshingly normal.

The fact that Michael was just a human being was usually forgotten by journalists and his fellow men alike – even by his fans. Hunted and starred at as if he was a rare animal, he was several times in life-threatening situations caused by the mob of people who usually followed him wherever he went.

His intense and charismatic aura was blessing and curse at the same time. It was a blessing for all those in his presence, as they were filled with bliss whenever he touched them; but it was a curse for him, as everybody wanted to catch hold of him. Particularly during the HIStory era, he was the focus of an almost religious cult which celebrated him as an angel, even as a/the Messiah. A role, to which he could relate well. “I try to imitate Jesus“, he told Oprah Windrey. „I am not saying I am Jesus. But I try to follow his teaching – to be like the children.” Jesus was always omnipresent, whether in his lyrics or at appearances. It was already in 1987 that Michael concluded a letter to People magazine with the words: “Have mercy, I have been bleeding for a long time now.”

He also very much liked the figure of Peter Pan (created by Matthew Barrie), who lives with the lost children at Neverland. Neverland is like a kingdom far away from the brutal reality of our world, and it is filled with innocence. Time has no meaning whatsoever there. Michael identified himself very much with Peter Pan. After he had left the family home at age 30, he created his own Neverland in Santa Ynez Valley, a secluded area near to Santa Barbara. Thus Neverland, which included an amusement park, a zoo and a cinema, became his sanctuary and hideaway from the world.

He, the eternal child in an adult`s body, surrounded himself with children, as children didn`t stare at him in awe, didn`t scream hysterically and didn`t want to have anything from him. He always pointed out that they didn`t care that he was famous and that they weren`t interested in his money or image. The fact that they were unprejudiced in his presence and even regarded him as their peer, pleased Michael greatly. The man who never had friends his age when he was a child, who never celebrated Christmases or birthday and who seldom got the opportunity to play hide and seek, was fascinated by this innocence. But his firm belief in children`s innocence was also his doom, when in 1993, allegations of child abuse surfaced. The child`s parents, who were divorced and in the process of battling for custody, wanted money. Lots of money. And Michael, totally overstrained and faced with the nightmare scenario of a long-term court procedure, paid. He didn`t want his name to be dragged into the mug any further, didn`t want the rudimentary remains of his private life to be brought to the public`s eyes. Later, this step would be interpreted as an admission of guilt. But what where a couple of million Dollars to Michael, whose oppressed soul ached to be left alone?

Unfortunately, this move also prepared the way for copycats, and one has to acknowledge that Michael was also partly to blame for that. Ten years later, he was faced with the same allegations all over again. With a child`s defiance he failed to see why he should alter his behavior, why he shouldn`t spend time all alone with children, why he shouldn`t let them sleep over at his house. He didn`t do any wrong, he argued, so why should he change things? But this time, he faced the court procedure, and went through an absolute hell in the two years that were to follow, only to be acquitted of all charges. Fans praised the Lord that he survived this nightmare – sometimes things looked grave indeed.

From that moment on, nothing was like it had been before. The lost boy of Neverland had been robbed of his innocence, and Neverland had lost its status as sanctuary once and for all time. Michael turned his back to Neverland and never returned there again. Looking back, that was a bad omen as well. He was deracinated / disrooted, lived abroad and didn`t return to the US until 2008 where he and his three children lived seclusively in Las Vegas and Los Angeles.

It came as a surprise when he announced a final tour in April 2009. “This is it. The final curtain”; he proclaimed nervously in front of thousands of fans and journalists – and with the exception of the “curtain” metaphor, these were the very same words that Christ uttered on the cross.

What killed Michael Jackson? Was it this final tour and his own urge to be perfect? Was it the wish to prove once and for all that he could still perform like he used to, to triumph once more? Certainly. But he also hated touring. Ironically, the man who lived for the stage and for the applause, suffered from a bad form of stage-fright. Even in 1996, before his opening concert in Prague, he was shaking like a leaf and seemed to be under heavy medication/tranquilizers.

Initially, London was supposed to be only ten concerts, but faced with the rush on the tickets, the concert promoter saw a great business opportunity and simply increased the number to fifty shows – something, which caused even experienced fellow musicians to shake their heads in view of Michael`s fragile condition, who weighed only around 50 Kilogram. Michael wasn`t so sure if he could manage the fifty shows, as he confided to fans a couple of weeks ago. His doctor was concerned, as he was too skinny and wouldn`t eat enough.

Additionally, the long-time addiction to strong painkillers was also a problem. Ever since an accident while shooting a Pepsi-commercial (a part of Michael`s scalp was badly burnt), he used to take painkillers. In the time from 1997-1999 he was often spotted with a cannula in the back of his hand, often didn`t appear to be himself and seemed to be absent. But there was nobody who could or would help.

The man within the golden cage was supposed to stay where he was: Caught inside his golden prison. Nevertheless, he continued to scream for help. In his song “Morphine” he addressed his addiction to Demerol. The part of the song where you can hear the beep of a heart-monitoring machine is pretty nightmarish. In the background, you can also hear nurses and doctors talking about the patient`s condition and the fact that he is on drugs: “Demerol, oh God he`s taking Demerol”, Michael sings in a quiet, pain-contorted voice.
One of his few confidants was the Indian doctor Deepak Chopra. Michael recently told him that he was suffering from strong pain and muscular aches, Chopra reported. He warned Michael not to take the painkillers any longer, but Michael didn`t want to listen. In fact, a doctor who was supposed to watch over his health, lived with Michael constantly. It was this doctor who gave him an injection on this fateful 25th of June 2009, a short time before his heart stopped beating.

So why did Michael Jackson die?
In the end, it was the wish not to fail, the urge to be perfect, to deliver only the very best and to come up to everyone`s expectations. His ultimate goal, to redeem himself in the eye of the public and to be loved, was his doom. He just couldn`t manage to love himself, no matter how hard he tried, but at least he wanted to get a couple of nice words from a world which had abused him massively in the past. He, a lamb among wolves, died because of the corruption and depravity of a world that he did not understand and which did not understand him.

We humans tend to demonize everything that we cannot understand. We did not understand the childlike innocence of Michael Jackson, thus we brutally spurned him and his innocence. Even when he lay on the ground, we continued to kick him. Desperately, he tried to get up, but in the end, he only managed to very shortly rear up before finally breaking down again und ultimately.

Now, the Peter Pan of Pop is dead – and all of a sudden, we sing his praise. How bigoted human kind is. There will never be one like him again.

Hopefully, he is in a better place now and has found what he has searched for all his live: Happiness.


Rest in peace, Michael. I will never forget you.

Without you, I never would have become the person I am today.

Thank you for everything. I will always keep you in my heart.

With love, Silke M.; Germany
 
hmmm... you have left me speechless. Thank you for this post.
 
hmmm... you have left me speechless. Thank you for this post.


Thanks for commenting.

These are just my feelings and thoughts, of course they are very subjective.
I had to write this as a way to deal with my sadness. I am feeling a bit better now.
 
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