An Explosion of Events

The days are starting to blend together as of late and my head has been very foggy. Absentmindedness and forgetfulness have become a regular thing. I know that it's mostly due to medications, but it can be trying at times. The past week has been quite interesting and filled with some unbelievable events.

The facebook page for the Etsy store has been steadily increasing in popularity, though we're still below 200 likes. I'm hoping to achieve 2-5,000. That way more orders will trickle in and maybe my little family will be able to dig ourselves out of this mess.

Even though I know there are both physiological and psychological reasons for it, I'm still somewhat bewildered by this whole PTSD thing. Part of me feels like rebelling against it. I get angry with my spikes of anxiety and I want to make it go away. However, I'm trying to take a more Buddhist approach to things. After all, that sort of thinking is what got me through George's death, my breast cancer, and several other things. I believe in fully experiencing things, even when they hurt. I don't want to deny myself the potential to drink in all of life's lessons. So why am I fighting this? Perhaps it's that girl inside who still feels inadequate, unworthy, awkward and lost. Most days I don't hear a peep from her but sometimes, when I'm trying to reach a goal, or when I'm receiving large amounts of praise and encouragement she starts to whisper things. “You're a fraud, tricking people into thinking you are brave. You are in over your head with this jewelry thing, and you only annoy people when you give them your business cards. You'll never finish college and you'll never make it to Germany. Give up and stay hidden.” I've gotten much better at silencing her with good music, positive thinking, and just plain stubbornness but some days she is pretty relentless. However, I am not giving up. For now, I need medications to help me maintain but I refuse to spend my life relying on pills. I just need to remember that pills don't make me weak, and neither does the diagnosis. The insanity of the past three years and the beating my body has taken have caught up with me, and even the strong must take extra steps to make it through the storm. I have a good therapist, and talking to her helps tremendously. I'll keep doing what I need to do until the stress, anxiety and nightmares subside.

I can't remember whether it was last Thursday or Friday when I was doing my usual Facebook activities...I think it was Thursday...when I saw a post by one of the feminist groups I subscribe to, featuring a beautiful black and white photograph of a woman showing her mastectomy scars. She looked regal. She looked like hope, life and wisdom. She was beautiful. The post was about how Facebook has been removing these beautiful pictures for being “offensive”. I had known this for a while, and I knew about the same thing happening with breast feeding photos. It has always made me angry, but for some reason, seeing this particular post filled me with more than just anger. It filled me with rage and an intense need to make a statement of my own. So, with a fire behind my eyes and a battle cry in my heart, I went through all my cancer pictures on my computer and selected the one meant for an art project...the one my mother took just a couple of days after my bilateral mastectomy. Trembling with a combination of fear and exhilaration, I posted it on my Facebook page in protest of their blatant discrimination against women. It was scary at first. There I was for all to see. There I was more bare and exposed than I'd ever been. The fresh and bloody scars where my breasts and nipples once were, the drainage tubes filled with red fluid that were stitched into my skin, the bald head; it was the raw and brutal truth. It was my big “fuck you” to the misogynistic bastards who were trying to make women feel ashamed of what we deserve to wear with pride. Even though I knew that this image was upsetting and gory, I decided that it was worth the risk of being un-friended, deleted, or banned.

What happened was something I was not expecting or prepared for. Within the first hour or two after sharing my most vulnerable moment, a surge of love and admiration came flooding in. People I didn't even know were liking, sharing, and praising my picture. Hundreds of likes, dozens of shares, and words like “hero”, “beautiful”, “powerful” and “warrior” lit up my page. I cannot even begin to describe what I felt. It was beyond overwhelming. Of course there was that little voice whispering things like “attention whore”, “drama queen”, “fraud”...but it was drowned out by the massive wave of love shaking up my quiet little world. Messages of encouragement and thanks as well as friend requests in numbers I've never experienced lit up my screen and my life. It was the most empowering moment of my existence! This continued for two or three days then slowly started to quiet. Then I was informed that Facebook had changed their policy, allowing mastectomy and breastfeeding pictures...two days BEFORE my protest! For a moment I felt kind of stupid, but no one knew about it! It was news to just about everyone. So even if I didn't do anything to change the policy, it wasn't for naught. I have made a lot of new friends, and been thanked by other survivors for making them feel better. It was all like some sort of crazy, wonderful dream.

I spent the next few days concentrating on jewelry-making with my main focus on things men would wear. It was getting close to an event that I had been giddy and excited about. One of my favorite bands, Melechesh, was coming to town, and I had tickets! The significance of this for me was that I would once again get to see one of the nicest people I had ever met. A week or so after my mastectomy back in October, Daryll and I traveled three hours to Seattle to see Septicflesh and Melechesh. I was sore, doped up on pain medication, and excited as hell! An ADVENTURE!!! The show was great and afterward we waited out by the tour buses. I was hoping to say hi to Seth from Septicflesh, as he had been super cool to me on Facebook, and I had come to adore his beautiful (inside and out) girlfriend, Ioanna. I did get to meet Seth, and he was beyond sweet! Before he came out however, Melechesh's Ashmedi came strolling out, grooving to his own tune and obviously enjoying the night. I felt shy and awkward, mainly because I only had a pink scarf to cover my bald head and I felt so out of place. I decided that I'd ask Ashmedi for a picture together and he happily obliged, putting his arm around me and squeezing a little too tight. I warned him that I had just had surgery, and he asked why I didn't warn him beforehand. Then he stopped and looked at me with a curious and concerned look on his face asking what kind of surgery I'd had. So...I told him my tale. Next thing I knew, I was being bombarded with hugs and kisses! He was such a sweet person and his beautiful spirit just exploded from his being. I got the requested picture, and a day or two later, I sent him a message on Facebook thanking him for his kindness and support and he responded with that same kindness.

Some time after this, I got a message from him out of the blue, asking how I was doing and saying that he had been thinking about me. I was touched at his continued concern. I liked Melechesh before, but due to his wonderful soul, Ashmedi quickly became one of my favorite musicians and human beings. He made a girl who felt invisible most of her life feel visible. This time around, when I heard he was coming to the area, I wrote to him telling him that I was happy he was bringing his music to Portland (which is just across the river) and that I looked forward to attending. He responded with something happy and kind and I went about my strange and quiet little life. It was a few days after the Great Mastectomy Protest when I decided I wanted to do something nice for him. The only thing I had to offer was my beading skills (as I had nowhere near enough time or energy to draw a portrait). I thought about what materials would best suit him, and lapis lazuli was the first thing that spoke to me. Not only is it one of my favorites, it just seemed to be the perfect stone for him. Since I only had a small supply of decent-sized lapis beads, I made them the focal points, then added rough tiger's eye, hematite, and gorgeous deep-garnet. I tried it on Daryll to make sure it was big enough for a man's neck, and I set it aside in a safe place. The show was just a day or two away. My bestie and partner in jewelry Brianna suggested that I send him a message, letting him know that I had something for him. I was feeling a little self-conscious about my work, so it took me until the day of the show (which was yesterday) to send him a message. I didn't think he'd read it in time, but he did and was his usual kind and cordial self.

The show was amazing, as I anticipated. I heard some really great bands that I hadn't known of before. Daryll and my youngest stepson were with me and I was so excited! I got to talk to and hang out with a few cool musicians during breaks between bands. When Melechesh was about to come on, Zach chose to chill out by the wall where we could see each other and Daryll and I went right up to the stage where we could get an up-close view of the awesomeness to come. Their entrance was as epic as expected, and as the primal and beautiful music pulsed through our veins, the world transformed into a place that felt like home. Music has always been a place of healing for me, and metal is the most invigorating life-blood. I believe it was the first song in which Ashmedi looked at me and we smiled at one another. I wasn't sure if he recognized me, since I look so different now, and my mastectomy photo was still my profile picture. I believe it was at the beginning of the second or third song when I was hit with the most incredible, touching, and unbelievable act of support and kindness I think I've ever received. Ashmedi...yes, Ashmedi...dedicated a song to me. He used my full name, stated that I had overcome some difficult trials, and then the metal exploded! Being the bashful sort, I felt myself blush intensely whilst wearing a goofy grin and half-covering my face. He and quite a few people standing nearby looked directly at me trying not to die of surprise and disbelief, and shyness. Well, if he hadn't recognized me before he certainly did now! And of course to cause me to blush even further, during part of the song, he came over and played his guitar right over me. Ho.ly.crap. Of course, the rest of their performance was maddeningly bad-ass and as it ended, I found myself walking outside in a daze.

I made my way toward the tour bus, while Daryll and Zach moved the car, and I stood quietly behind a small gathering of fans and musicians, trying to avoid second-hand smoke without coming across like an asshole. Ashmedi stepped out of the bus and started talking to people. I didn't want to barge in on any conversations, so I leaned against a trailer and waited for my family to come back, while chatting with one of the other musicians I had met.. My phone went off with Daryll's ring tone and I let him know where I was. As I ended the conversation with “I love you”, Ashmedi walked right in front of me with an “I love you, too.” Ha ha! Seriously, this guy is fun and happiness wrapped in human skin! I either smiled or giggled and he hugged me tightly, letting me know how good it was to see me. He greeted some other people, while I kicked back in my spot. Then without warning one of his guitar players approached me, asking if I was Larissa. I said yes, and wasn't really surprised since my name had been spoken into a microphone and it seemed like the entire planet had seen me blush. Then he said that my friend Nath in England told him to say hi. Nath is one of my closest online friends, and I was rather shocked that his name would come up by a tour bus in Portland, Oregon. We talked a bit before he made the rounds and as I had to back away from some cigarette smoke while apologizing and explaining that it was doctor's orders Ash stood back with me, saying he hated cigarettes and he had never smoked. I smiled and told him not to start. Then I awkwardly told him that I had made him something and handed him a small ziplock bag with his necklace coiled up inside it. It was too dark to see it very well, so he asked me to come with him and we entered the tour bus. Yes, it was my first time EVER being invited onto a tour bus. He took the necklace from the bag, looked at it in the light and told me he liked it. He made mention of the lapis, and I confirmed that it was indeed lapis lazuli. He seemed especially happy about that part and I think I got another hug. We sat down on the surprisingly cushy seats and talked for a few minutes before Daryll called me again. I told him I was on the bus and I asked if it was okay for him and Zach to join us. Of course he said okay and we all sat around talking about a multitude of things. Zach was given a diet soda, I was given some whiskey in a styrofoam cup, and Daryll had a gin and tonic. We made sure not to drink too much to drive. The conversations were all over the place! I learned more things about Ashmedi, and he learned more things about me. We talked about cancer, survival and death. I told him that this had been my second bout with cancer and I told him about George. We talked about the importance of humor in dark situations while swapping a few more stories. Daryll and Zach made their way back outside so he could smoke. They ended up hanging out there the rest of the time while Daryll made friends with most of the other musicians. Apparently he impressed the hell out of them! Ash went into the back for a bit, and I sat with the impressive guitar player, while disco music filled the bus...it was Disco Tuesday, after all. I felt bad for not recognizing him (in my defense I was overwhelmed and I hadn't seen any pictures of him for a while). He mentioned being in one of the former lineups of Death, so I asked his name. Yes, I was hanging out with THE Ralph Santolla! DOH! Curse my Swiss cheese brain!!! So discussions of all kinds with several amazing musicians and a few other fans went on well into the night. I got a picture with Ashmedi. He was wearing the necklace, but in the photograph, his goatee is covering it. Eventually, we had to get Zach home. The poor kid was exhausted! He was such a trooper though and I am damn proud of him! I said my goodbyes, got some hugs in, passed out a few business cards (while feeling a little paranoid about coming across as tacky or annoying...shut up, negative inner-voice), and walked to the car on a sleepy, dizzy cloud. This will go down as one of the absolute best nights of my life!

Since Violet was spending the night at Brianna's, we got to sleep in as late as we wanted. Upon waking from more nightmares, I slowly shook them off, drank them away with water and then coffee...and a sliver of a lorazepam pill as Daryll and I kept looking at each other and marveling in near-disbelief at what had transpired. As it turns out, my dear Nath had a lot more to do with it all than I thought. I can't help but love the guy and all his cantankerous but sweet nature! Thank you Nath!!! The apartment was a horrifying mess, so we cleaned, and when we could stand to be away from Violet no more, Daryll went and picked her up. I hugged my giggly, chattery little girl and showered her with as many kisses as I could before she wiggled away from me.

I am choosing to accept that right now I need to take pills and it's okay not to like it. That will be part of the fuel I need to drive out my emotional demons. Yes things are hard. Yes things are scary. Yes we might get evicted or lose our car, but people survive those situations all the time. I hope with all my heart that we can find a way out of this before it comes to that but we can only do what we can do. I've been through a lot; more than some and less than others. It has most definitely taken its toll but I have managed to laugh and smile my way through most of it. Even now with the nightmares and anxiety, I still find time to laugh, smile, and enjoy every minute with my precious baby girl. I don't know how many people read this blog but to them, and to everyone who has helped me through all of this, thank you. There will never be enough words to describe my gratitude.

I regret not taking my scarf off since we had matching haircuts at the time.

Sittin' pretty on cushy tour bus seats.

The naked truth of breast cancer.