Tattoo Therapy

Oh God how I miss getting tattoos. It’s been one year and just over two months. And yes I do know to the date when my last one was. I spent the last four years getting tattooed.

Tattoos are my therapy, and I could use some right about now…. Now I know you are shaking your head, asking how it can be therapy. The pain, which is relative. The constant drone of the tattoo gun.

Let me explain…..

First I’m a Gemini, yeah I know who cares. But it comes into play here. My mind is always going. I’m analyzing and re over analyzing everything. Looking at every side of each thing. It feels sometimes that it never shuts the fuck hell up. It always takes me forever to get to sleep. I’m always going over the day. This is not good when you have a child, who is a boob hungry monster at night.

I came across mummamayhem’s post today. And I found myself cursing this woman. I don’t even know her, and I hated her today. She just got this amazing tattoo on her foot. And I was screw you and your new tattoo. I want one, I need one… Damn you breastfeeding child (whom I love dearly) This is what got me thinking about how much I miss them.

I had an appointment to finish my right sleeve. It was all planned out, I was super excited to finally get it DONE. Then I found out I was up the duff with my wee one. And of course they wont tattoo the pregnant lady.

But… But… I protested. technically I was pregnant when I got my last one.. No amount of begging and pleading worked sniff sniff. So appointment cancelled.

Back to why it is my therapy… It really is the ONLY time that my brain just stops. You really can’t think of anything else… My artist use to hate me. I would fall asleep on him. When clearly I was supposed be entertaining him. Sure there are a few spots on the body that do make you cringe. But I love getting tattooed. I actually like the pain. Read into that what you will. Every one of my tattoos mean something. Or came at a particular time in my life. It’s art and beautiful, and tells a story.

So until the wee one decides that I’m no longer the milk factory. The therapy will wait, the arm will stay unfinished. As much as I miss it, I have a greater duty right now. To feed my lovely wee one

So all of you that are getting tattoos, send pictures and let me live through you.

 

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