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I Believe In...
I believe in the power of tattoos because they show the everlasting meaning of something, even after death. More specifically, I believe in my first tattoo, showing my mother’s eternal love for me, despite once looking in the face of death. It looks pretty basic at first, like something you would see while scrolling through Pinterest. The main part of it being the silhouette of a mother and daughter forming a heart, and a semicolon in the middle of the heart. Although, a fairly simple tattoo, that has a fairly easy meaning to understand, it means so much more to me.
I thought of this tattoo after I got out of the hospital, after being there for about a month and a half. I was still skinny and pale, occasionally a bit nauseous. But, with my mom still standing by my side through all of it. She still visited me every day at Centennial Peaks, the psychiatric ward where I was staying for 6 weeks. Before that, she stayed every night with me in Children's Hospital, where I stayed a couple days short of a week. She was the only one willing to stay all that time with me, even after my suicide attempt. She loved me everyday, at my best, at my worst, and at my death bed. Just as a mother’s love should be, eternal, like this ink on my skin.
I believe in my tattoo, even with the small things. I still appreciate everything my mom does for me, even if it weren’t for my suicide attempt. I appreciate picking me up from school, although she has gotten no sleep from working a sixteen hour shift. I am continuously grateful for her willingness to deal with me, despite the attitude she passed onto me. I will always remember the nights she let me cry in her bed until I fall asleep, even though I am couple short years of being a legal adult. I still cherish the days she pushes me to do better, when it seems so much easier to just give up. I continue, and always will remember the days she reminds me how proud she is of me everyday, when I am doing good for myself like she wants me to. But most of all, I will always remember when she tells me that she needs me too, to keep her up while she is down, reminding me that I am equally as important to her, as she is to me.
I believe in my tattoo, that is a permanent reminder of my mother’s permanent love for me.
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Just a story about my tattoo and when I attempted suicide 3 years ago due to extreme amounts of bullying and depression, and how my mom was a huge part in me becoming healthy and happy again.