The binge-a-saurus grabbed hold of me.  I was vulnerable--D was sick last week and one of my housemates is sick this week and I think I am coming down with it as well.  I couldn't subdue him in time, so I'm currently trying to rid myself of his memory through heavy laxative use.  Half a pack tonight and the other half tomorrow.  Overdose much?

@SBB:

Ahaha, you caught me!  I never did follow up on the tattoo story, did I?  It's small and subtle--a very thin line that curls around my wrist, crossing over itself on the underside (a line with no beginning and no end).  It's in white ink, so it's easy to overlook.  When I first got it, it was brilliant white--I planned on hiding it beneath a watch/bracelet at all times or covering it up with make-up.  In the career I want, it's really not going to matter much if I have a tattoo or not...but I wanted something I could cover up easily anyway.  It's faded a bit since then, and I rarely bother covering it up anymore.  Even so, only 4 people have noticed it (unless anyone noticed it and never commented).  Even my mom didn't--I had to point it out to her.  (She disapproved.  My mom never really approves of anything.)

I had been toying with the idea of getting a tattoo for a while, but never did because a) I am terrified of needles and b) I wanted something meaningful that I wouldn't regret, and I didn't know what that was yet.

Last spring semester was absolute shit for me.  I took a course overload, nearly killed myself trying to hold 3 clubs together by myself, do TA training, and maintain my good grades.  My dad went through medical issues (like usual).  My grandma passed away.  M and my relationship was going through hell.  My eating was insane.  I couldn't handle anything.  I was out of control and had no one to help me through it.  I had panic attacks.  I didn't know who I was or who I wanted to be or what I wanted to do with my life.  The semester ended and I thought things would get normal again.  M dumped me.

And that summer, I realized just how strong I was.  I started trying to be ME, not what M wanted me to be.  The world didn't end when my grandma died.  The world didn't end when M and I broke up.  I didn't give up.  I kept going.  And things got better.

We ED-ers tend to be diametric thinkers: black/white, success/failure.  We must do things exactly right or everything is ruined.  But reality is all shades of grey.  There are infinite paths to walk, and messing up one does not destroy the others.  There is no one set route to happiness.  There is no "one shot, this is it".  There is always another chance, always another choice.

I wanted something to remind me of this...that no matter what, as long as I keep trying, things will work out.  Maybe not exactly how I expect them to, but regardless.  I am strong.  I wanted something that says to me: you can do this.  Just keep going.

And beyond that--the line with no beginning/ending symbolizes (to me) self-containment.  I am me.  I do not need to be anyone else.  I do not need to please anyone else.  I do not need to depend on anyone else.  All I need to be happy is me.

The placement is meaningful as well.  The tattoo circles my left wrist.  It's there that I used to self-injure.  Also, I wanted it to be somewhere where I could glance and see it anytime.

Anyway.  I was scared to death about getting it...I seriously drove back and forth in front of the shop 3 times before I got up the nerve to do it.  But the artist was super nice--he could tell I was nervous.  He actually just chatted with me and showed me his art for 2 hours.  By then I'd calmed down a bit.  :)

I was originally obsessive about hiding it.  I didn't want to have to explain it to anyone.  It felt like a private thing and I wanted to keep it that way.  The only people who have had the full explanation are my best friend L and D (and now you lovelies).  But lately it's not mattered so much.  I doubt that I would go into all that if anyone asked, but I don't care so much about keeping it secret.  Doesn't matter really, as no one notices it anyway!

I love it, I adore it, I don't regret it in the slightest.

I don't have plans for another tattoo.  But when my father dies, I will get this one redone.  As a reminder.