Psychology 101

Nearly 9 hours in the tattoists' chair today, covering something from an old life with something from this new life. A lot of time to think on the path to here, as well as a considerable amount of tongue biting and deep breathing. 

Many many a moon ago in the depths of youth, just as I was finding my feet in the world of adulting I got a drunken tattoo just because. And I never liked it, but I seldom saw it, hidden on my back - all too often when I did it was a visceral reminder of older darker times, a link to a past I wanted to walk away from. As it blurred so did my memory - and then it was just, in reality, another of many scars from the past. Mostly ignored, seldom appreciated.

& then the fire of losing Mum, a crucible of sorrows that redefined all the moments of before, shadowed all the moments since. The process of writing & reviewing, of prising open long locked boxes of regrets, holding the anger until, finding a way to let go, looking again at the scars of the past, the moments they represent, the forks in the path.

Yet in this latter life I've developed a thing about scars - I think they should be seen, acknowledged and really appreciated for their story of survival, the tale they tell of life lived, maybe rebirth.
I've spent a lot of the last decade and longer thinking I deserved many a thing to hurt - I'm glad I could never make retribution a reality, I've accepted redemption is something for the next life but today was another step on the road to better, recovery if you will.