While waiting for a medical examiner to come look at my accidental finger slice to determine whether it was too horrendous for me to donate, a plasma technician and I started conversing about tattoos. I had explained to her I was debating whether or not to get another one because of the strict policies for donating plasma associated with tattoos so she asked, "Well, what did you want to get for your tattoo?"
I walked her through my idea tentatively with furtiveness in my eyes because my immediate thought was, "No one wants to hear about your crap, Dana." Her response was, "Sounds awesome, you should do it. Who cares if you have to wait to donate?" Immediately after, she proceeded to explain her next tattoo idea with me without chagrin.
I hadn't even explained to her the true meaning behind my design and she was completely shameless. Her daughter had suffered with self-harm, cutting, and she wanted to portray that through her design. The fact that she shared something so raw and chose to not be silent about it really struck a nerve with me. She had explained that parents need to know the signs and maybe by having something this powerful people will ask her why and she can enlighten them on an otherwise taboo topic.
After she opened up with me, I told her I wanted this tattoo for the same reason. I need people to see that behind my humor, tenacity, and fire, there is daunting and complex tale. My goal is to raise awareness on the topic with my tattoo as the plasma technician wanted to do with hers.
However small this interaction was for this woman, it weighed heavily on my soul and proved to me that there is no point to hide any longer.
Honestly, in the past week, many wonderful things have happened enabling a significant amount of darkness to start dissipating.
I reconnected with someone I had lost and ultimately had no idea I would ever connect with again. When I took the step to contact them, I was really taking a risk.
When they responded with elation, it shocked me into tears. A hole I have had in my heart has been refilled and it feels awesome. I am so glad they are back in my life.
Something else that was a huge step towards progress was my first visit to a therapist since I became an adult. My goal was to finally tackle things I fought to keep at bay for so long. It was nice to walk in and have someone look at me like everything I thought and said was completely normal for what I have experienced. I was not used to that.
In any case, things are getting better. I still have bad days, but I have an extremely amazing support system to help me get through those days. As an example, just yesterday I was hiding underneath the blankets on our bed, bawling uncontrollably. My husband came downstairs and simply dragged me from underneath the layer of darkness, pulled me up the stairs, plopped me on the couch, and pushed my face towards the sunlight streaming through our window. I immediately smiled. He knows me better than anyone else and because of that I am able to get through even the worst days.
Thank you to those who have stuck by me, it means the world to me.
