more than...: another phone call i don't want to answer...

welcome to the next chapter...

once a long time ago, i read on a blog, "i am a lesbian but thats not all i am". i was then just teetering on the edge coming out as a lesbian. back then, although i understood what she was saying, i was completely drowning in that one dimension of my identity. i knew then i was more than also but such turmoil tends to shrink your field of vision. it is scary and exciting and anticipatory and it is exhausting.

i am almost 5 years out now. some things look differently in my life. some things are the same. but i revel in the knowledge that i am a lesbian and in the knowledge that i really am more than just... my field of vision has grown to include the wide open spaces of life's endless possibilies.

for those of you who know me, you will be able to find the familiar places of my old writings which i will have on the sidebar. for those who stumble upon me and find yourself confused by fragmented references or are struggling to come out later in life, you will find the Closer to Fine link most helpful. I recommend reading it from the beginning, it makes more sense.

one more thing, blame my lack of capital letters on e.e. cummings...

Thursday, May 26, 2011

another phone call i don't want to answer...

my films are in on my mammogram....

i already know there are people out there thinking i deserve whatever bad happens to me. (they said so in writing so don't bother calling me a liar or martyr, or whatever the new word is for the unkind vulture crowd) I know there are people who will berate me for not doing it sooner i have that copied as well just so i never forget the face of cruelty...

i don't happen to think anyone deserves to die from cancer.   my mother did. lung cancer. it was painful and ugly and horrifying.   the day we came back from her MRI which showed the mass creeping around the outside of her lung and headed for her spine, she asked me to run to the store for her. she gave me the list and as i scanned it she looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, "please don't say anything to me about wanting cigarettes". it was a moment i will never forget. i looked at her hand writing, i looked up at her. she wasn't my mother anymore. she was just a scared little person who was just told she was most likely dying. there was no one or nothing to blame. it was exactly what it was. period.

there is a piece of me (a horrible little piece which rises in me like a volcano and demands a sacrifice for cruelty and hatred)  that would like to grab a few people by the hand and take them back to the night my mother died. her hand in mine and tell her that its her own damn fault. chicken shits all of them, they wouldn't do it. as far as i know they all smoke as well. let it be said here and now, i don't think any of you deserve to die from any sort of cancer.

so i dodged the phone call, sue me, blame me, talk shit about me.   i am/was that scared little person, the one i saw in my mother.   i was lucky the first time, cervical cancer seems to be the "golden child" of cancer. it grows slower than many.   who knows what the hell the dr. is going to tell me about my mammogram. but i will journal about it and those of you who will find joy in the diagnosis, if it turns out that there may be a problem, you can start a brand new blog. sadly, you will most likely have many followers.