24/8 — Marlon Bereux

Chronic pain is hard to explain because people normally only see me when I am doing something.

They see the music, the photos or me getting on with life. They do not see what my body feels like before or after it.

I used to think pushing through everything made me tougher. Most of the time it just meant I paid for it later.

Music does not fix the pain. I wish it did. It just gives me somewhere to put the anger and frustration instead of carrying all of it around in my head.

Some days I can do a lot. Some days I cannot. I have stopped pretending those days are the same.

I am not trying to make chronic pain inspirational. It hurts. It gets exhausting. I just refuse to let it be the only thing I am.

— 24/8

This is probably one of the harder things for me to talk about.

Since my brain injury, CTE is something I have worried about. Not because somebody diagnosed me with it. They have not.

That is part of what makes it scary. There is currently no way to definitively confirm CTE in a living person, so there is no simple test that gives you an answer and lets you move on.

I can sit there wondering what my brain will be like in 10 or 20 years, but I cannot live my whole life inside a question nobody can answer for me today.

So I try to deal with what is actually in front of me. I write. I make music. I create things. I look after myself the best I can.

The fear is still there. I just do not want it making every decision for me.

— 24/8

September 2026 · Brain Injury

A lot of people have asked me what CTE actually is.

Short version: CTE is a brain disease linked to repeated hits to the head over time.

One concussion does not automatically mean CTE, and you do not have to be knocked out every time for head impacts to matter.

It gets talked about a lot in AFL, NFL, boxing and other contact sports because repeated hits to the head can add up over time.

People talk about things like memory problems, mood changes, concentration problems and changes in behaviour. The problem is those things can happen for plenty of other reasons too, so you cannot diagnose CTE from symptoms alone.

And right now, doctors still cannot definitively confirm CTE in someone while they are alive.

So no, getting hit in the head does not automatically mean CTE.

But repeated brain trauma is real, and just because you cannot see the damage does not mean it is not there.

That is the part I want people to understand.

— 24/8

I am not trying to tell anyone how to fix PTSD. This is just what it looks like for me.

Sometimes my body reacts before my head has even worked out what is going on. Certain places, sounds or situations can put me on edge fast.

I used to get angry at myself for that. I thought I should be able to just switch it off.

I cannot.

What I can do is know myself better. Routine helps me. Having space helps. Writing helps a lot. Music gives me somewhere to put things I do not always know how to say normally.

None of that is a magic fix. Some days are still bad.

I just understand now that fighting myself all day normally makes everything harder.

— 24/8

My ABI is probably one of the hardest things to explain because most of it is invisible.

I can look completely normal and still be dealing with memory, concentration, fatigue, pain or just getting overloaded by too much going on at once.

That is the part people do not always understand. Looking alright and feeling alright are not the same thing.

I spent a long time comparing myself to who I was before the injury. That can mess with your head because you are constantly judging yourself against a version of you that does not exist anymore.

8Ville came out of that. It became my name for the place in my head I kept ending up in — the part of life other people could not really see.

I do not want pity for having an ABI. I just want people to understand that invisible does not mean imaginary.

I am still here. I still make music. I just have to do some things differently now.

— 24/8