THE DEPTH OF A TATTOO NEEDLE

I finally decided to get my second tattoo.  Since I had breast cancer last year, I knew this tattoo would be an Ebeneezer from that journey. I wanted it to be visible this time (my first one is on my back) so it would be a constant reminder to be strong, courageous and grateful.

I think what made me finally ready for this tattoo was the total defeat I felt this past week and how deeply I felt I needed to draw a line in the sand before I passed the point of no return.

My new reality is a slow-spinning blender, which makes it all the more painful. Needless to say, I am still struggling emotionally from having gone through the breast cancer ordeal and then the Tamoxifen ordeal immediately following it which has subsided a bit but still has taken over my life.  My health keeps spinning out of control and each time I see the doctor, we have new maladies to discuss. I am beyond frustrated with how tired I am all the time and how I’ve been unable to put my life back on track after all this time.

Wednesday was the epitome of me, frustrated, spinning out of control, unable to reign my chaotic emotions back into place.  I felt so defeated and so awful and so bitchy and I hate those days.  Then, I got home and received the news that someone I love like a daughter had lost her baby. I just flopped down on the floor and sobbed.

I wish I could tell you that I’ve had some spiritual epiphany as I’ve walked this part of my journey, but I can’t. Believe me, I’ve tried to get to that point as much as it has been expected I’d get there.  I have not had that pink ribbon spiritual aha moment that so many people have had and gone on to write books about their wonderful spiritual journey and all they’ve learned.

Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful to God for the healing I have had and I know he’s been with me this whole time. I just feel like my heart is full of broken glass because so much of me was shattered last year.  I’m confused, tired, and broken. I can’t seem to find my new path yet and I’m so very frustrated.

Meanwhile I feel like I’m in an endless maze and someone thought they’d be clever and not leave any cheese at the end.  I’m lost and there is no reward.

That’s why yesterday I called a friend and we went to the tattoo parlor. I needed to mark this part of my journey, permanently and I seem to find inspiration in the depth of a tattoo needle.  I chose the butterfly because it is a symbol of hope to me, that beauty lies beyond this cocoon.  It all came together when Jeremy, the tattoo artist handed me his drawing and I knew that was what I wanted.
I am grateful for my life, and once I figure out what I’m supposed to do next, I know I will be ok. I have a very visible reminder of God’s faithfulness on my forearm.