I'm still sorting things out here, and for some really really strange reason, I now think it would be fun and a great way to deal to get a 2nd set of piercings and a tattoo. Haven't done it yet, but as the feeling is more than a couple days old and isn't leaving, I very well might.
Is this normal, the feeling of wanting to add something to yourself to make up for assaults/etc? I'd always kinda-sorta-maybe wanted a tattoo, but I've never been able to screw up the guts to do it. And now that this has come up, I'm just thinking that the world doesn't last forever and you gotta live life. Buwha?
Also, in case anybody knows, are there any sort of Hatha Yoga places that are decent in the Denver, CO, area? I really want to start doing it, both as a relaxation method and a get-in-shape method. >.>
I got my huge henna-inspired side piece tattoo filled in last night. It was painful, but hey, it's a tattoo. Something happened towards the end of it though. Basically, I took on too much at once (I have no fat or muscle, I'm very tiny and the tattoo is basically across my ribs), and my body ended up freaking out on me. I cried a lot, because the pain triggered me, because it was too intense. And I don't cry, I didn't even cry at my father's funeral. But I guess I needed to let everything I've been carrying inside me out last night.
I've never really had anything that's triggered me before. I've never had flashbacks or body memories, or anything like that. I'm just confused in general as to why I had such an outburst last night. Does anyone have any advice or ideas?
So, I don't post in this community much because I have a hard time staying online and whatnot but due to recent events I can start to make time. My boyfriend of a year and I just broke up yesterday for the last and final time. Too much is going on with school and both of my jobs, and I was getting tired of his shit and he kept saying it was me and my mood swings and whatnot; but I didn't have control of them because of taking birth control and so much stress.
But, my story is pretty upsetting and I won't go into it because of triggering moments but I lost my best friend because of my rape. He protected me & was killed because of it. My rapist did things for so many years to scare me and it just got too enough.
Well, the other day I found a note on my car on campus and it freaked me out beyond words and my ex (now) didn't even care about my protection, he was just like what do you want me to do and all I wanted was to be held or told everything will be okay, I promise. But no, so we broke up.. and well, my best friend I think spited him and five minutes later after breaking up with me, Chris got into a car accident (my best friend died in a car accident) and was pretty banged up. I was upset and as weird as it sounds, I sat in my backyard last night looking up and told Nick so. I saw Nick in my dreams last night and he said I only wanted to protect you.
Anyhow, this upcoming Thursday. I'm getting my tattoo in memory of him and how he protected me from my rapists and whatnot. He couldn't save me then, but he's doing a damn near good job right now. IU'm looking forward too it and I think my ex or another friend is going with me for support. I'll post pictures and whatnot, I'm just really excited.
okay, i promise, last post tonight.
my dad was an artist. he used oil pastels, and his pictures loocked as if they were painted with light. he drew mostly landscapes, serene, sometimes tubulent, depending on his life at the moment. one time, when he was in his prime, i believe, he painted a butterfly for me. i think because he knew i liked bugs. many years later, when i had begun to hate his life (he was an alcoholic, but that was a symptom of a deep depressive disorder, one i have inherited), the picture sat in my closet, dusty, the glass in the frame broken thanks to books pilled on top of it. when he died, this painting had new meaning for me. i had survived sexual assult, and could identify with the butterfly emerging from the husk of its cacoon.
one time, i drew this picture in black ink of a butterfly black and white. it was torn at the edges, one wing was almost dislocated. this was in the time of not being able to speak of what had happened to me. i showed it to my dad, and he seemed to know. he took my template and created something like a moth, with swirling edges in the wings, but still devoid of color or anything in the backround.
as a testement to my father, who had lived an unfullfilled life due to circumstances of genetics and hardship, who i loved, and as a testement to my rising above circumstances,i want to design a tattoo that incorperates all of these things into one. my body tells a story, of scars and depth and beauty that i want to be etched into clear pictures and print one day. all of these experiences have made me, and what better way to share a story?
i dont know why im sharing this. i guess ive thought about it, but wanted to write it out.