Ross was seriously depressed after being released into the wild from hospital, despite the anti-psychotics and anti-depressants. We talked often. It’s a very disturbing experience to listen your son talking about the pointlessness of life and the attractions of suicide. I’d regularly rush home from work in response to a phone call from Ross or on hearing the tone of his voice when I had called him. You become very sensitive to the non-verbal cues… He’d often feel better after an hour or so face-to-face. I’d usually have to go to bed, exhausted.
Let me be nothing
I’ve been jumping from foot to foot
Like I’ve been walking on hot coals
I’ve been swinging from tree to tree
Like a monkey marking out his territory
Yeah, lets go get lost again in warmer climes
Where the grass is greener and all is fine
Yeah lets go get lost again in other times
Where her rose smells sweeter than mine
Don’t you see
I don’t believe in me
Let me be nothing at all
Nothing at all
Something’s started but nothing’s sticking
It’s not as if I’m not willing
To be the one that everyone else wants
Who is oh so talented in all his arts
So lets quit everything before it starts
So there’s no hard feelings or broken hearts
Burns night meal with friends, 2019. Ross burns bright, the life and soul. 6 weeks later, we use the anniversary of my dad’s death as an excuse to visit the crematorium together, followed by pub lunch. He is – on edge. After food he becomes vocally aggressive, shouting. I have to leave. That evening he emails. He simultaneously never had a mental health problem (my having him sectioned was abuse) and all his mental health problems were caused by me. Schrödinger’s psychosis.
I spend 2 months putting intense pressure on the local mental health services and finally succeed in persuading them to act. They call to say they will turn up with the team to assess him – on the morning after he burnt down the shed (in which he had been semi-living) in the night and disappeared to, as we later discovered, Bournemouth. I contact the Bournemouth mental health services (local services doing chocolate teapot impressions) and, eventually, he is picked up by the police and taken to Prospect Park hospital in Reading for assessment. Relief is too mild a word. BUT. Fleeting. I’m told that he’s a “trustee”, allowed to come and go as he has promised to be treated in the community. I’m told he will shortly be released into that imaginary community…
Killed his guitar in the woods on new years night, videoed himself painting his room red and dark green, and put up signs like these everywhere.
“Yet to be named” was the last thing Ross achieved before crashing. Re-released as with new band as “Consumed in self”.
Smoked dope for a while, but then tried to give up following some scary symptoms. Wrote “Blame Marijuana”, prescient, but sadly too late…
While I was comatosed
Get him a doctor
Let me be nothing
Going Home
Song of Sickness
Chaos
Hugging Barbed Wire 
then where will you go..
Melancholy 
Don’t Fade