>I’m growing my hair and have decided to keep it tied back or up most of the time until it gets a bit longer. It’s a little annoying at it’s current length when it’s down.
So I went to do my food shopping this morning and called into Claires (I wish they still called it Bow Bangles, that is a much cooler name) and got a selection of clips and grips and hair stuff. And also some very cool ladybird studs.
For ages I’ve wanted the cartilage in my left ear pierced. Literally about a year. I did want the piercing where you have two holes and a bar in between. But then this morning I just decided “sod it” and got a stud put in it.
She kept telling me that was I sure and it was going to be painful. I said “I’ve got a tattoo it can’t be worse than that.” She said she had three and this does hurt worse.
And ow, ow, ow, fuck, ow.
She was right. I think she thought I was going to pass out afterwards because she kept asking if I was OK etc.
My tattoo was hard to deal with as it was being done because it didn’t really hurt but it was like it was being constantly irritated or stung for the twenty minutes or so it took. As soon as it was finished it didn’t hurt any more. This really really hurt when she did it. And it still absolutely kills three hours later.
It does look good.
I wrote about the meaning of my tattoo on the day I first got it. It does have another, deeper, special to just me meaning too as does this piercing.
Back when I was at uni and at my very very worst for depression, I had some bad days (more than I care to admit too, truthfully) when I wanted to die, even one when I seriously considered suicide.
I would always think to myself that I’d always wanted a tattoo and I didn’t have one so I couldn’t die yet. Not having a tattoo became my safety net and I accepted that I could never have one because I needed that safety net for my peace of mind.
Getting my tattoo back in April was my way of recognising that I no longer need that “safety net” and tearing it up, chucking it out of the window. Truthfully I’ve not needed it for years but it was more of a “safety blanket” than a safety net at that time. Being without it worried me a little but I knew that I might never need a safety net again and if I did I would find another one.
The little silver ball that is now in my left ear, the one that is going “oww ow ow” at present. That’s something else I’ve wanted for the longest time. And it’s the symbol that three and a half months after I got rid of my “safety” I’ve truly left things behind and got on with my life without depression. It’s a symbol (just like my tattoo) that the bad stuff is left behind and although things maybe difficult they are going right from now on.
I am still taking antidepressants, but at the moment there is a rough plan in place for me to wean off of them early next year. My GP wants to build my confidence of managing without them a little more first.
So that’s why I got the piercing and I got my tattoo. It’s also partially why I dye my hair silly colours. That’s because I love it. But I also do it because people are going to stare at me because of the chair, so why should I worry about the colour of my hair, better to do something that makes me happy and gives them something worth staring at.
Self Expression. My permanent reminders of the battle I have fought and which has shaped me.