Tim Onion: Innit – Five Years On

To read my original post on Tim’s passing five years ago, click here.

TRIGGER WARNING: Contains mild discussions of depression and suicide.

Five years is a long time for any man – alive or dead.

Oooooohhhhh, that sounds like such a cool writer thing to say, doesn’t it? It’s true in its way though – five years is a long time to say goodbye to someone. You think so much changes in just a day – imagine five years!?! Sixty months? Two hundred and sixty weeks?

I could go on, but I’m not that good at maths without the calculator and I can’t be awake writing this all day. Needless to say: it’s a long time.

And, yet it has passed by with a strange ease. I know the time has been long, but it feels like yesterday. The circumstances have changed, but July 26th 2025 doesn’t feel that majorly different to July 26th 2020. I mean, it feels VERY different in many ways but aside from location, age and experiences is it that different?

The reality is that once you look deeper at it, then yes – it is.

Timothy James Onion, born December 16th 1979 in Bristol, England, is my older brother. For the record: he is a half-brother, sharing the same mother. However, we never looked at my brothers Jeremy and Tim as “half” – they certainly never looked at us like half siblings. We all lived together and grew together: as far as we’re concerned, we’re all one family.

Tim lived a life that even stretched out over a longer period of time would still be busy. Indeed, if anyone took to the Rockstar Lifestyle that guys like Ozzy Osbourne and Keith Richards showed the world, it was Timothy James Onion. Tim lived life full on in every aspect. It allowed him to climb crazy heights and live a rich life, but also became a cross too heavy to bear. A lot of time and energy has been spent trying to understand Tim in so many different ways and honestly? I’m probably no closer to working him out. I know him as much as a brother can know their kin, but to be perfectly honest? I don’t know if I’ll ever understand what drives you to want to end it all. No judgements for it at all – I am just unable to put myself into that headspace.

Tim suffered with depression, suicidal ideations and struggled heavily with his mental health. Music became a strong outlet for him and his album (available on all major streaming platforms) showcases how he tried to turn demons into art (successfully, I would say, in some regards) and speak his truth. I recommend the album as an insight into Tim and his world – but then I suppose I would, wouldn’t I?

Tim was silly. Tim was fun. Tim was a laugh, as we’d say in the UK. Tim was loving. Tim was your biggest supporter. Tim was the cool Big Brother you’d love to have.

Tim was a pain in the ass. Tim was moody. Tim was narcissistic in his relationships. Tim was “crazy”. Tim was full on. Tim couldn’t say no.

Tim was a dichotomy. To enjoy the good – like all of us – you had to take the bad. But it’s all those things I miss. I miss the silly brother, the cool rockstar – the Big Brother.

And you know what? I miss the moody bastard in the morning as well. I miss it all.

And that is what remains the same whilst the years change around us: while I might be back in Prague, him not being here remains the same. No matter how much things change, he isn’t here and goddamn it he should be. The thing with suicide is that you don’t get to see the other side of it: it’s like walking into a tunnel and thinking it ends there. Whatever journey you may have to take? There’s the other side where the sun shines again. I just wish you might have saw that.

I like to think I get why you did it, but I don’t know if I do really. I’ve always been able to go to sleep, feeling however shit I felt and waking up to a new day – ready to go. Not necessarily raring or willing, but ready to attempt something. I just hope you’re happy and peaceful. I guess you are.

A lot has changed in five years. Hollie had Mia, who is growing every day and is amazing. Mum has grown stronger in resolve but weaker in heart from missing her baby boy. Dad has stood strong to support as best as he can. Jer and Stef continue to live happy lives together. Chloe has a son and graduated Uni! I don’t hear anything from Hanna and Taylor, sadly (if you read this kids: Onkel Tommy loves you both! Don’t be afraid to message and say hi!), but I know you’ll be looking after them hopefully.

We’ve all grown, evolved, changed and processed as much as we can in five years… and yet, you aren’t here.

It is what it is. We’ll talk more I’m sure, but damnit it’s easier to talk when you’re in the room la.

Love you Timmy. Keep flying high xx

Tim Onion: Innit

This post is a reposting of a previous post I put on Facebook five years ago now about my brother, Tim Onion, after his passing. As we reapproach the anniversary five years on, I repost this to reflect on that day and everything that came from it. Reading it again I can still feel the rawness of those emotions and that day. Five years have passed, but the pain still lingers in the heart like it was today. I hope you are at peace and looking after Nanny Rose and Uncle Bob Timmy x

TRIGGER WARNING: This post will discuss elements of depression and suicide.


I wish it could have been different.

I wish you could have seen how much people love you.

I wish you could have seen how much you lit up the room.

You were the showman. The Rockstar. The Headline Act.

I idolised you. You are, with no disrespect to Jer who I love all the more today than ever, the cool brother. You were a hellraiser. You did what you felt like. You rebelled. You were unmistakably you.

You were hurting. We all wish we could have been the ones to save you. But we know that isn’t how any of this works. You are free now. That is the saving grace of this all.

But I know you wouldn’t want us standing around sad now. You’d be telling us to have a drink and enjoy ourselves. We’d all gather as you regale us with stories of your debauchery and hijinks. We’d laugh to ourselves as you declared yourself the greatest of all time.

I’d cringe when mum would talk of the things you’d tell each other. How you rang her when you lost your virginity. Or when you had your health issues and mum would tell me all about your penis. Like, constantly. The irony? All I wish we could do now is chat about your penis. How strange life is.

I remember staying with you in Hamburg when you went through rehab. How proud I was of you. How inspired it made me that you tried to face up to your demons. And you know what? I still am.

I am still proud of you. You always wanted to be more. You always tried. You probably tried too much.

But it makes me sad. I thought that rehab would have been your rock bottom. I never wanted this to be your rock bottom. I thought you could climb out of the abyss. You are my superhero. You could win this.

You carried the weight of the world on your shoulders. Man, I wish you were here so I could slap you and tell you how much I loved you as you were. I wanted you to be clean and happy for yourself. I wanted you to be happy because I love you and I want you to be happy. You deserved to be happy. You deserved the world.

You were my brother. I never cared about the bad things. I didn’t care about you being an asshole or a knobhead. I knew my brother and he was the best. I loved my brother. And I will always love my brother.

I can’t ever remember the bad times. All I remember is the good. The times we’d bond and laugh. You’d teach me about life, love and the world in your typical verbose ways. My love of St. Pauli, of Hamburg, comes from you. You told me that the cool team to support was FC St. Pauli. You taught me about the Kiez. You hung with rockstars, prostitues and reprobates. My love affair with Pauli is all because of you.

You never judged me. I never felt like I had to be anything around you. I never had to pretend. I was me and you were you. It didn’t have to be anything else. I was just in awe of you.

I sat here writing this with Mum, Dad, Hollie, Ed, Chloe, Cameron, Jer and Stef. And all I keep thinking is how you should be here with us. I know you are, in a way. But it just isn’t the same. You telling us about your life, mannnn.  Just you. I want you here. I know you’re happy now. I know the pain is gone. All I want is you to be happy. But I love you.

We’re talking stories of old, the past and the fun times. How Jer and Stef met. You playing Robbie Williams changed two lives immeasurably. Like a lot of times you played.

You had a talent. Maybe we’re blinded by loyalty and love, but you were a star. You hit the meaningful music with a rawness, a vulnerability that spoke to your pain. The stage, that set: You we’re the King of Your World. The girls loved you, the guys wanted to be you. You were every bit the superstar on stage. The cover of Wonderwall where you’d headbutt the mic before the chorus. Playing Bob Marley mixed with “Where the Lion Sleeps Tonight” where you sing “all me want for Christmas is a titty wank”. You made everything you did YOU. Don Onion didn’t reach the whole world, but he was my world. Our world. Every stage he played, every pub he worked, every room he walked in – he became the King of Their World.

I want to keep talking. I want to keep writing. I want to keep reminiscing. Because I can’t bear this moment. I can’t bear to say goodbye to you. I don’t want to say goodbye to you. But I know we have to. I know that for you to be free and happy we have to let you off into the world. But it’s the day I never wanted to see.

I keep rubbing my wrists, thinking how much pain you were in. How you had to get away. I have cried so much thinking about you suffering in silence. Feeling like we couldn’t help you. Thinking of the life leaving you and how we could have been there at the very least. You deserved to have us all around you if you had to go. You didn’t deserve to go alone. I can’t stop crying thinking of you alone. You deserved more. You deserved to live.

I know we can all only do so much, but I can’t ever get over you not thinking you were enough. Worthy enough. Good enough. You were to me. You were more than enough to me.

Dad said you could never give enough of you to others and it hits home with me. I see that fear of rejection, that fear of being unloved in you. It’s why I always looked up to you, because I felt like if you could overcome that then maybe I can. But if it wasn’t enough for you, then what becomes of me? We could both do this together. I don’t want to fight alone. I want you here with us. I want you here. I need you here. And now you’re not. I know you can’t help it. You had to fly free. But I feel like you abandoned us. And I don’t want to burden you. But I just wish we could have had one last day. One day.

I want you to know how much we love you. How much we wish you were here. How much we all wanted to help you. How much you lit up our world. How much we miss you. How you changed our world. How I’d give anything to hear you play one more time. To see you. To hug you and tell you I love you. To hold you and never let you leave. To tell you all the things you needed to hear to carry on. To heal. To grow.

Mum misses you more than you know. Dad does too. We all do. We all wish you could have stayed around. We don’t want to let you go. Mum loves you so much. She wants you to be free, like I do. I wish you could have said goodbye to her, at least. You owed her that. She would have always looked after you. You didn’t need to feel embarrassed or insignificant about it. You at your best was worth every negative day ever. And I know my mum deserves to be happy. That will forever be my only anger towards you. You owed Mum a goodbye at least. But I know you loved her. I know you’ll always love her. I know you left a note that we haven’t seen yet, but it at least deserved a voice message. She’s the one who deserves you being here the most. But I understand that it wasn’t enough. I just wish it could have been.

I had two songs constantly in my mind these last few days: you singing “Sunny Sailor Boy” and Finger Eleven’s “One Thing”. But it feels important to share your own song and allow your voice to shine. To let your words shine and speak for themselves. I want the world to know the Tim Onion I knew, so I share this song hoping they do. I keep playing your songs knowing that the voice I hear is so near and yet so far away. It hurts me more than I ever thought I would suffer. But I know it can’t compare to the pain you felt. I hear your love and your pain in this song. My only consolation is knowing you are feeling no pain any more.

You’re my brother. I love you. And I’ll miss you every day. My heart will never heal from this. But I know you’re free now. And I can’t wait to see you again, when I get to tell you of the great things I’ve done in your name. How great Taylor and Hannah and Amelia became. How much everyone loved you. How you changed so many lives. We’d meet up with Mum and Dad and reminisce. Watch over the family and hug once again.

But for now, you are free. My only consolation. You are free.

Goodbye, Timmy. I love you more than you’ll ever know xxx

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