Finally after a few years of procrastination, I got inked today, again. Last night I took stand for myself, took everything out that was bothering me and slept for the first time in peace. It took me a long time to get to this place, but last night I arrived and there is no turning back.
The first thing I had to do for myself was get the tattoos I so desperately needed. They will be constant reminders, that my life is not over yet, that things will get better and I’ve survived worse. It was something I should’ve done a long time ago because of the symbolism they have for me. But I procrastinated, I let my emotions get the best of me and just let myself sink, disappear even. All for what? Was it even worth it? Did it even matter? Who suffered? ME! And only ME.
No more. Things have to change. How long am I go crying myself to sleep, letting my demons take over who I am? How long would I survive? If I got back to the point I was four weeks ago, then probably not long. Four weeks ago, I broke down. I died a little. And none of it was even worth it in the end.
So, I took a stand yesterday; I will respect myself before I respect anyone else. Baby steps but much needed ones. So I got inked.