Logan Lynn
 

▲▼▲▼▲▼ LOGAN LYNN ▼▲▼▲▼▲

  

Are You Struggling With Your Mental Health?

Logan Lynn (2014)

Hey friends and followers,

As someone who has struggled with addiction and other issues of mental health my whole life, I understand how hard it can be to reach out when you are feeling alone.

Please know that I am in this with you. I am here and am more than happy to help connect you to support where you are, just as others have done for me at times over the years.

It may feel like the world has stopped caring about you, but I have not. You are beautiful and loved, darlings. The email button on this page (to the right) is there for clicking. Please use it anytime. We can be survivors together.

xo
Logan

6 Years Clean This Month.

Logan Lynns Pomeranian Harvey

This month marks the 6 year anniversary of my being free from the crippling addiction to cocaine, alcohol, and crack cocaine which almost took my life in 2008.

Thank you to my sweet family and friends for standing by me through the 16 years it took me to land after taking off. I owe every minute of this hard fought-for life I live every day now to the hard fought-for love each of you gave me then, and the seemingly boundless compassion you have shown me in the years since.

If any of you reading this are struggling with addiction or are feeling hopeless about ever feeling better, please message me here or send me an email at Logan@LoganLynnMusic.com — I am happy to help connect you to resources where you live anytime.

XO
Logan

Logan Lynn: The Party’s Over. Now What?

Originally Published in the September 2012 Issue of Just Out Magazine, on stands now. Click this month’s cover below for the original post.

In The Trenches: “The Party’s Over. Now What?”

It’s no secret that I struggled with an addiction to cocaine and alcohol for many years – Sixteen of them, to be exact. A quick Google search of my name uncovers that though, so this isn’t breaking news. I was always very openly strung out and continued to be open throughout the process of cleaning up, nearly 5 years ago at this point. By the time my active using had come to a close, I had wrecked my life many times over, hurt everyone around me, and squandered professional opportunities the likes of which I will never see again. It has been a long road to put things back to how they are today, and there are still times where that messy person appears, ready as ever to destroy all over again.

It seems you can take the drugs away from the insecure screw-up, but the feelings which led to the drugs in the first place remain. Sometimes they are small and manageable, other times they are too large to hold. Even now, all these years later, not a day goes by where I do not think about giving up. It usually happens when I get my feelings hurt or if I feel overwhelmed by the extreme realness of the universe, which tends to hit me in unexpected waves at the most inopportune times. In these moments I would love nothing more than to ease my aching shame with a drink or hide myself from you, the world, in some kind of thick, white, transformative smoke. There are times where I would literally give everything just to feel nothing.

The trouble with me feeling nothing is that it comes at great cost. I know how that story ends. I lose my work, then my friends and family, then my belongings, then my life. Boom. It’s over. Logan Lynn, dead at 32. No more love, no more music, no more words. I tell myself this story constantly so I Read the rest of this entry »

Logan Lynn: The Final Frontier – A Small, Wooden Commentary on Love and Death

(Originally Published on The Huffington Post on 4/6/2012)

I don’t do well with death. My coping skills are still lacking around anything related to loss in general, actually — but death, I just… can’t. It’s been this way since I was a boy. The idea that everyone I have ever loved will someday be taken from me (or I from them) terrifies me and is a concept I have largely refused to look at for as long as I can remember. Death, in my personal psychology, as in life, is the final frontier.

This week when I got the call from my broken-hearted mother that her sweet sister, who had fallen ill with a mysterious condition a few months ago, was being moved from hospital to hospice, I was overcome with sorrow. My usually manageable, small, wooden feelings about death and loss were suddenly made large, alive and uncontrollable. What I am most afraid of was here, once again, greeting me head-on in the living room. I turned back into the terrified child version of myself that lives inside me while my mother and I cried on the phone together. During the really hard parts I tried not to hear what she was saying, and instead focused on the sound of my own sobbing. It didn’t work. I took in every painful word.

My brain absorbs news like this in slow motion. It hits me in tearful waves, fades to the background, then jumps out again at the strangest times. I feel a deep connection to this planet by way of my family and the love we all share for each other, and I am sad that some of that love might be moving to another part of the universe. I’m selfish in this way. I want to keep all of you close forever. Anything else just seems too cruel to imagine and, well…This has been my reality for three days now.

A few years ago I was given a book called To Bless the Space Between Us, by John O’Donohue. I have pulled it out a few times over the years when I can’t find ways of relating to the world, and it has helped me form thoughts around some of the stuff I’m just no good at thinking about. This week was one of those times. In a passage about death from the book, O’Donohue writes:

“From the moment you were born,
Your death has walked beside you.
Though it seldom shows its face,
You still feel its empty touch,
When fear invades your life,
Or what you love is lost
Or inner damage is incurred.

Yet when destiny draws you
Into these spaces of poverty,
And your heart stays generous
Until some door opens into the light,
You are quietly befriending your death;
So that you will have no need to fear
When your time comes to turn and leave.

That the silent presence of your death
Would call your life to attention,
Wake you up to how scarce your time is
And to the urgency to become free
And equal to the call of your destiny.

That you would gather yourself
And decide carefully
How you now can live
The life you would love
To look back on
From your deathbed.”
Read the rest of this entry »



 

 

CONNECT














 

 

 

E-NEWS





 



 

VIDEOS


2014


2013





2012


2011


2010


2009



2007




2006




2000



 

 

RECORDINGS



FULL DISCOGRAPHY HERE



 

 

COMMENTS


  • Logan: Thanks Anthony! I promise to come to your neck of the woods when my record comes out next year, dear. xx
  • Anthony Bowen: Hey Logan! I love everything you do! Keep it up! P.s. Come to Phoenix??
  • Ritchie: Last year was mind blowing. This year’s lineup looks just as good if not better. Just got our tickets.
  • Jaime Keller: Congratulations on the mainstream discovering you. Bout time!
  • Jackie: Best cover ever.
  • kira: beautiful
  • George V.: Hooray you are playing NYC!
  • Logan: Thanks Flava Flav. ha ha ha
  • DeeJay FlavAFlav: P.R.E.T.T.Y.
  • Danielle: This kicks ass.