When my parents fought, I’d turn “Dead!” all the way up until Gerard was the only screaming that never scared me. The hard things didn’t stop — chronic illness, depression, my own battle with addiction, my mother’s fight with cancer. Through all of it this album stayed: the same songs at 10 and at 30, still insisting there was a reason to stay. Twenty years later I finally watched them play The Black Parade live in Florence. This band taught me that pain isn’t the end of the story — it’s the raw material.

It helped to feel listened to and understood, even though it wasn’t necessarily… that. Being able to see that other people felt how I felt, had the thoughts I had, and went through the hurt too helped me feel less alone. The noise helped too — being able to put on some really loud music and drown it all out wasn’t the ideal thing to do, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t help me.

My parents, who both love music so dearly, introduced me to TBP when it came out, when I was around 5. Some of the happiest memories I have of my childhood are blasting that album in the car and singing at the top of my lungs with my parents and my little brother. A little later, when I was 13, I became a victim of sexual abuse and became increasingly hopeless that I’d make it past 18. However, TBP was an album that I always somehow found my way back to during that darkest time in my life. Even though it was fraying and weak, it was the single thread that I hung onto. Here I am, now 25 years old and having had the privilege of finally seeing MCR perform TBP, with my family who stuck by me the whole way through. That was one of the most special moments of my life so far. To the band: thank you for your hopeful words and for your steadfast defiance of everything that demands that we fit ourselves into too-small boxes. Because of these things, I’m still here, and I will now have the joy of passing on TBP and the rest of your wonderful music to a daughter of my own one day.

I have friends whom I literally only see at MCR shows. We’ve known each other since 2010, and whenever MCR plays a show in the UK, we arrange to meet up and catch up. We stayed in touch throughout the pandemic largely because we’d all bought tickets for the Return tour, but we rarely spend time together unless there’s an MCR show.

When I was younger I lived in a shitty household, and during that time I started listening to MCR. We would argue, and I’d turn the music up really loud to piss them off (they hate MCR). If it wasn’t for the idea that I could go to one of their concerts one day, I would probably be dead.

Their music is catchy and reminds me to keep going with my life. It helped me realise that I can do anything if I put my mind to it, and that I suit the alternative scene.

I was a casual fan for a long time before seeing LLTBP in Toronto last year, which kickstarted something special. Going to Detroit in a few weeks!

I have a whole list of mental disorders, which includes autism, ADHD, depression, anxiety, and some others. I’ve been insecure about myself for my whole life, but at that concert I finally felt safe and wanted. Seeing artists who had struggled so deeply with the same things I have made me feel valid.

Gerard inspired me to pick up a pencil again after a long art block. He inspired me to write, draw, and sing in spite of everything that pushes me down. He helped bring back my deep passion for comics, inspired me to start learning how to do eyeliner, inspired everything about who I am.

Mikey showed me that despite having awful shit happen to you, it’s always possible to stand back up and keep fighting. He showed me, as a fellow bass player, how important we are to a band. He showed me how to live again.

Frank showed me that it’s okay to be a funny little shit sometimes. He showed me that good things can happen, that you CAN be in multiple bands. He showed me that you can still bring chaos into your work while doing it.

Ray showed me that I can do this, despite being a little quieter than other people. He showed me that practice WILL help me get better at guitar, writing, and performance. He showed me how to have happiness despite all the awful things in the world.

My Chem has saved me in so many ways. The name of this website is especially fitting, since Famous Last Words helped me not end it all.

My Chemical Romance helped me be able to say that I am not afraid to keep on living.

Past me really related to Early Sunsets Over Monroeville. In a way I still do, but not because I still feel like that. I have ADHD, and I was put on medication as a kid and into my late teens. The meds made me feel like a shell of a human being. Empty, dead. And everyone had no shame in telling me they liked me better on the meds. Whenever I would show a spark of joy or personality, they would say, “You didn’t take your meds today, did you.” Does anyone notice there’s a corpse in this bed? That really fucks up a developing brain’s self-confidence and worth. I liked that song because it put my feelings into words for the first time. I am now a grown adult. I don’t take those fucking meds anymore, and I live far away from all of those people. I don’t know if everyone would call me successful, but I have a nice home, a spouse, a cat and dog, my own car, and a job that pays enough that I can travel occasionally. I’m doing really good. And now I really resonate with Bulletproof Heart — I’m shooting out of this place because I sure don’t like the company. Jenny ain’t ever coming back home.

MCR has been and will forever be my favorite band.

In my opinion, one of the best things about them are all the CD/vinyl releases they’ve done. It’s so fun hunting for them, even though it does start to get expensive after a while.

I love learning about all their old, obscure stuff and forming my own theories around it — seriously, so many interesting things about this band from back in the day that people don’t really talk about much.

I discovered them yeeeaarrssss ago, and my life has just been so fun since. This band does wonders, and I’m glad to experience it in real time with all you others in the MCRmy.

I hope they’ll one day return to Denmark so I can see them live. That would be a dream come true for me.