Asking for help is not a weakness, it is a strength.

FABIAN (BRENNAN HEART) “Coming home to myself” Fabian Bohn is known as a DJ under the name Brennan Heart. He has been a successful Dutch hardstyle DJ and producer for 25 years, both domestically and internationally.

Exterior

There was a time when everything seemed perfect on the outside. Packed venues, cheering crowds. My audience saw a happy person, but inside I felt emptiness. I stood on stage, smiled at tens of thousands of people, and thought: where am I actually? The years of my greatest successes were also the years when I was at my lowest point mentally. Both my parents died young, my brother fell ill, and I felt the responsibility to stay strong. I took care of everyone except myself. Music became my refuge, my escape, my numbing.

Clean

For a while, I lived a very unhealthy life. I gained weight, I drank a lot of alcohol, and because of my work, I was never awake before noon. During the pandemic, everything came to a standstill—including me. That was when the realization hit me that I could no longer run away. I stopped drinking and started digging deep within myself. During that same period, a small group formed with fellow DJs where we talked openly about our mental health. Without judgment, without masks. We share what is difficult and support each other when things get tough. Everyone runs into something—that realization alone creates a connection. I have been clean for five years now. Only when the numbness wore off could I start truly living.

Repair

I discovered that work and alcohol were never the problem — they were my solution. A way to avoid feeling. But when you stop numbing, everything you have suppressed for so long comes to the surface. I delved into my family history, into the grief passed down from generation to generation. My mother carried a lot of pain, my father had his own struggles. I tried to carry it all. Now I am learning to put myself first again. Not out of selfishness, but out of love. Only in this way can I truly be there for others.

Ask for help

During a training session, I was given an exercise that has stayed with me ever since. We were blindfolded and sent into an unfamiliar room to search for an exit. Only when I dared to admit that I couldn't find the exit on my own and asked for help was I led to the exit. The group was standing there, and someone said: "Asking for help is not a weakness, it is a strength." At that moment, something changed inside me. Sometimes you only find the exit when you admit that you can't do it alone.

Balance

The thrill of a performance remains magical — the lighting, the energy, the connection with the audience. But I have learned that the silence afterward is just as important. I meditate every morning, writing down what I am grateful for. Sometimes happiness is nothing more than an ordinary moment: my children laughing, a walk in the sun, a conversation that touches me.

Light

When I was still struggling, a friend of mine said something to me that I have never forgotten: “If you have thoughts like that, remember: it is actually a permanent solution to a temporary problem.” That hit home. Because at the moment, that pain feels endless—as if it will never get better—but that is not the case. No matter how dark it seems, there is always light again, always movement again. For me, music is no longer an escape, but a form of connection. In every song there is a piece of my story—vulnerability, loss, hope. Even out of darkness, something beautiful can emerge.