How Kings Make Me Cry

The past week or so has proved outlandishly emotional on so many levels that I am left floundering.  And weepy.

To begin with, I concluded once again that the support I am given and love I receive is utterly undeserved.  Utterly.  I have known this for... ever.  I do nothing to deserve anything.  And yet I am given.  Stupidly, instead of gratefulness I often feel guilt.

There is, of course, a depth to plumb here.  But suffice to say that what the good, loving, wonderful, kind, beautiful, Beautiful, BEAUTIFUL, people I know feel for me should not... be.  It should not be.

But more intensely- in the middle of all of this re-realization, I decided that tattooing the entwined stag of beautiful and heartbreaking Celtic Lore on my ribcage was a brilliant idea.  Which it was, absolutely.   No regrets on that one... except that I just didn't realize how much it would HURT.  Holy mother of all things tattooed: Rib Cage + Needle + Emotional Breakdown = Pain.  Immense, gutting, churning, gasping, weeping pain.  And I wept.  On the table while my Lovely Lee laced a Stunning Stag onto my delicate skin, I cried like a baby.  I cried and I cried and I cried.

Bless my Mother- who avoided photos of my red,
sniffly, blotchy, tear-streaked face while documenting
the Stag Entwined.  

I cried for the loss I have experienced over the past year and a half.  I cried for all the people who have loved me- who love me- and whom I have disappointed.  I cried for the meaning of the stag- the King of the Forest- entwined by vines, imprisoned and eternally struggling.

I cried because by the third layer of ink on my raw skin I just wanted to go home and sit in a lidocaine bath.  For three hours.  Which is about the time it took to finish this beautiful creature who now makes his home on me.

And you thought I was kidding when I said I was getting a bit weepy.

Until next time- my advice is to a) avoid tattoos on your ribcage; b) especially if you are in the middle of reassessing your cosmic well-being for the thousandth time this year.

Much love, Dearhearts.