I’ve had my tattoo for three years, just had it touched up this past Wednesday. 35 years ago I swallowed every single pill I could find, not just a few. According to the doctor who pumped my stomach that night I shouldn’t be here. It hasn’t always been easy but when I heard about the semi colon project in 2012 I knew I had to do this. I knew that if I could be strong enough to hang on I had to talk about it with whoever would be curious enough to ask me about the tattoo. It sometimes people uncomfortable but I want this conversation, I want to be a testament to sometimes just getting through one moment to the next and then the next and the next…. Life isn’t easy, often it downright sucks but had I died that night I would have never known the best friend of my life, my daughter, I would have never known the joy of motherhood the second time around with a decent man who has stuck around and weathered life’s hardships together. I am happy that my story has continued.
Today I went to a tattoo artist, and for $60 I let a man with a giant Jesus-tattoo on his head ink a semi-colon onto my wrist where it will stay until the day I die. By now, enough people have started asking questions that it made sense for me to start talking, and talking about things that aren’t particularly easy.
We’ll start here: a semi-colon is a place in a sentence where the author has the decision to stop with a period, but chooses not to. A semi-colon is a reminder to pause and then keep going.
In April I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. By the beginning of May I was popping anti-depressents every morning with a breakfast I could barely stomach. In June, I had to leave a job I’d wanted since I first set foot on this campus as an incoming freshmen because of my mental…
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