A year ago I got a tattoo. (Maggie calls it my "stamp")
It is a feather.
An angel wing feather.
It is a visual, constant reminder that my mom is always with me.
It is a specific reminder of a time when my angle mom was with me and gave me strength.
Two years ago, during my darkest moment of my depression., I was prepping dinner before Chad got home. I was chopping carrots and onions and Brussel sprouts. I couldn't stop crying.
I took all my strength for me not to slit my wrist.
I felt my mom. She and my grandma were next to me, it felt like they each had their arms around me and were there to calm me down. I felt my darkest but I also felt them reassuring me this would pass at the same time.
And it did pass. Not immediately but it did indeed pass.
If you know me, you know I am an open book. I am obviously very open about the past few years of my battle with depression. It is not to get sympathy, or attention, it's to bring some awareness and hopefully help to someone else who may be suffering. If that's you, you're not alone. And it does get better. SO much better!
PS-My tattoo is now a year old, I get asked if I regret it. The answer is NO! I prayed about it, I felt good about it and I still love it. Don't agree, that's cool.