I have always had a fascination with tattooing and body modification. I have a lot of respect for the talented artists that make other people their canvases. However, this is not directly what I would like to write about. I would like to write about both cutting and ritual scarring as part of depression and mental health, and the involvement of tattooing on a personal level. (All a bit high and mighty, I know, but heh, got to have goals. Don't we?)
At A Glance Author Flayme Contact Flayme@bme.anon When A year ago Location Brisbane I have been an on-again-off-again sufferer of depression for many years. In my 'low' times, I got pretty low. To the point of cutting myself up with whatever was handy; usually razor blades or knives. It's hard to explain to anyone who hasn't been there themselves. You subconsciously know that what you are doing is not right, and that it is a bad habit. You keep being told, by your subconscious (and any counsellors or therapists who happen to be involved) that there are other options for stress relief, but nothing has the same effect, and it's a very powerful effect. After building up for what can be either weeks, or days, or even just hours, you lose some sort of control. I became almost catatonic before I reached the point of slicing my flesh. I would think of little else, until I had spilt the blood, and let out the stresses and frustration. It's almost an automatic action after a while, you reach breaking point, then you find yourself reaching for a sharp object , and seeking out somewhere quiet. It's almost an escape, (or at least it was for me). After you have done it, and the blood has run free, you feel an almost indescribable numbness. An emptiness, a greyness that gives your frantic headspace the chance to rest for a while.
After a while, I grew past the urge to slice myself up. I had an arm covered in scars, and a desire to cover them over. I live in a tropical climate, so long sleeves are very rarely an option. I could not afford laser skin resurfacing, and makeup is a pain in the butt. I have always had an interest in body art and tattoos. So I figured I could get a tattoo done to cover the scars as well as remind me of a few personal goals.
I decided that as it was going to be on a very visible part of my body (my forearm), that I would go for something not-quite-so-full-on. Flowers are nice and non-offensive, something that I could wear and not have trouble with, or grow out of. I love plants and gardens, so it fit pretty well. Problem was, I did not want to have just any flower tattoo, (yes, I'm picky,) but one that had special meaning for me. So I put my own together.
I started by researching the language of flowers. Most flowers have a meaning attached to them, and in previous centuries it was popular to send your beloved a message by the choice of flowers in their posy. I chose characteristics and qualities that had significance to me as well as which flowers I liked and would work in a tattoo design.
I finally put together a collection of flowers (after quite a bit of work), worked them into a design that I liked and that fitted where I wanted to put it on my body. I drew and redrew and drew them again for good measure then I waited for a month or two, to see if I changed my mind, I didn't. Then I went looking for a tattoo artist who could tell me any changes I needed to make to the design and do the custom job for me. I found such an artist; he did a great job for me.
The tattoo process was in itself therapeutic for me, in a way. The pain of getting the tattoo reinforced my resolve to pull myself out of my mental 'black hole'. I wanted to get on with my life and move on. In a way, I guess I was testing myself, testing my pain threshold and my resolve. I did not make this decision lightly.
I am now reminded, every time I glance at my arm, or someone else asks about it, just where I've been, and why I do not want to go back to that place in my head. I still do sometimes, of course, it is an ongoing battle, but I have a beautiful and visible reminder that helps a great deal.
My ultimate goal of writing this is that maybe someone somewhere will read this and realise that they are not the only one who feels the way they do. Or that someone will read this and realise that there may be more to a person's tattoos than simply and urge to decorate their body with great artwork. They may have more personal reasons for selecting a tattoo; family, lost loved ones, and significant events to name a few.
Flayme March 2004