Surviving, and Still Loving Myself
March 2017—my son, who was 6 at the time, and I had a mom-and-son date night out of town. I got two unplanned tattoos that night. (The shop is no longer in business.)
The first is a semicolon with a heart instead of the dot, to remind myself to love myself as I continue on in life. It’s green for mental health awareness. I was struggling with mental health but was still new to the information and diagnosis at the time. Amidst opiate addiction, I’m sure any psychiatrist thought I had a myriad of “issues.”
The second tattoo was my son’s name in his handwriting. He chose the color, placement, and was even allowed to hold the gun and shade for a moment.
I had no idea the turmoil my life would eventually come to later that year. On March 7, 2018, I made a failed attempt at ending my life.
And although the meaning of the tattoo is much more to me now, it’s an amazing reminder—not only for myself, but also for others who may ask.