First GoodNight Journal

I am hoping that my journaling can find a home here.  I was on another site for many years, and then recently went back and it was not the same.  I want a place to write, but COMPLETELY anonymously.

My name for the purpose of this blog is Jaded.  I’m thirty – two years old, living in the US.  I am married to the man I love – his name is J.  J and I have been married for 5 years and together for over 8.  I left an unhappy marriage to be with J.  Hurting my ex was one of the worst things that I have done as he was a nice person.  I think because of that situation I have always worried that the favor will be returned to me and that J will leave me.

My current situation is not a good one.  Here is the backstory:  6 years ago my dad died in a freak car accident.  Since it was a freak accident, it wasn’t expected and none of us got to say goodbye.  As much as I was hurting, I didn’t grieve in the way that I expected I would.  I didn’t take it as HARD as I felt that I should have.  (I know everyone grieves differently, etc, but something just didn’t feel right).  My brother was panicked, suicidal even, and it took him a LONG time to get over his grief.  I, on the other hand, only had a handful of bad nights.  My dad and I were VERY close – we had a wonderful relationship.

Anyway.  Fast forward 6 years.  While looking through some old things I remembered I had a stamp that had my dad’s signature on it.  I had always wanted to do something special with his signature and for the a long time had played with the idea of getting his signature tattoo’d on my wrist.

A few weeks ago, I decided to go ahead and go through with it.  I had been talking about it for many months – a year almost actually.  Well, I did it.  But they couldn’t do it on my wrist and not as small as I wanted.  So now it is on my forearm and it is WAY.  TOO.  BIG.

I thought I would love it.  I thought it would be a constant reminder that my Dad is here, present, within me, every day.  Instead it is a constant reminder that he is NOT here and that I did something ( it FEELS, even though I had been talking about it for a long time) impulse that is nearly impossible to get rid of.

I have spiraled into a depression.  I have seen a therapist and gotten a prescription for anti-depressants.  My therapist thinks that my feelings about the tattoo are the repressed feelings of grief that I didn’t take the time to feel for my Dad when he actually died.  She is sure of it, actually.  While I do agree with her on some level, I also think I just am really, really, really angry with myself for making this choice.

I have been to three consultations about my options as far as tattoo removal goes.  Two laser centers and one dermatologist.  The two laser centers were about the same and the dermatologist was a dick.  More on those later.

For now, this will do as a suitable introduction to my current situation.  I’d love to make some acquaintances here and follow others’ stories as well.

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