For the survivors of the Paris attack last year the pain inflicted went far beyond physical for many. The long range repercussions of such a traumatic event are still to be known. For one, however, her recovery from the Bataclan club madness slowly brought her back to the music. Via Tame Impala. Vice has the story.
Reviews of Tame Impala concerts usually wax lyrical about blissed-out crowds dreamily singing along as their hands lazily drift through plumes of weed smoke. This is an accurate description. In the three times I’ve seen them, everybody there has been more interested in arm waving than foot stomping. The ambiance is laid back and joyful, and being part of the audience is like being part of a community. Being part of a Tame Impala audience gives you the sense that everybody is your friend.
Or that’s what it’s normally like—but not when I saw the band on January 31. That was the first gig I’ve been to since the Eagles of Death Metal massacre at the Bataclan.
I moved to Paris from Germany in early November 2015 to try and get a bit more independence. I’d been working as an au pair in Germany, and it was quite socially isolating. So I was excited to be in a position where I had complete control of my own schedule. Goodbye to the small sleepy towns I’d lived in before. I was moving to a mecca of culture. Every day would mean new places to go and new people to see. I would do things like go to concerts alone and meet new people.
On the night of Friday, November 13, that’s exactly what I did. I was at the Eagles of Death Metal concert when members of ISIS opened fire on the audience. I was very lucky to get out quickly—injured in the crossfire but not seriously. I was ecstatic to be alive, and I was going back to Australia to recover. Living in Paris, I never expected that I’d deal with such a horrific thing.
In the following months, I felt anxious in crowds, especially in theaters. I even had a few anxiety attacks, but I found these were relatively easy to deal with because of the professional help I was receiving. I had the right coping strategies in place, and I was prepared for anxiety. What was much harder to deal with was the lack of trust I had developed in myself and in the people around me. Harder still was an incredible feeling of isolation. I felt like nobody understood me, or what I went through. I’ve had a big part of my innocence ripped from me in a such a way that my friends and peers can’t understand. And I don’t—I wouldn’t—want them to.
Read her entire piece here.