"Like a Tattoo"

This incredibly long “blog/article/testimonial” contains something I have considered sharing for a long time but have always struggled with how or if I should. I usually stop shortly after beginning because it requires thought and reflection on times in my life that I want to forget. I pray for every individual who reads this; I pray that these words help, encourage and show God’s glory. This is not about me; nor I do not want it to be. This is going to be raw and real; I am terrified for anyone to know these things but I know I am not alone and that someone out there needs to hear my story.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. James 1:2-4

In order to tell my story, I am going to anchor this writing on the progression of a not so well known fact about myself: my tattoo. While it may be small and rarely noticed, this white ink cross on my wrist symbolizes my story, my life. 

The idea for this tattoo initiated March 2011; I was a heavily involved senior in high school enjoying my last few months before graduation and preparing to go to UNC Charlotte in the fall. Suddenly my senior year changed when a friend I had known since the good old days of YMCA soccer would no longer be sitting next to me joking with in the back of calculus. He passed away unexpectedly from complications of a heart surgery. He had returned from the surgery and was doing well until the complications arose causing him to miss school for a few weeks. I remember vividly sitting on the couch with my family on a Saturday night and get on Facebook to see the heartbreaking news. Shocked, numb and heartbroken a large group of students gathered outside the school that night to be together in remembrance of him. As Facebook filled with memories of his life the idea came to make an event to encourage everyone to wear red the following Monday to school. The response was an overwhelming visual to how his happy, positive and caring personality influenced so many people. Memorial t-shirts were made by student council and honored him with the phrase "leave a legacy of love". His life brought us together as a senior class, school and community. His life inspired us all and my short daily drive to school began filled with Christian radio. Growing up as a Christian with a family heavily involved in our church, I knew to lean on God in times of trouble. I knew He would be there and promised to never leave but I cannot say I truly knew what that felt like. I started drawing a cross on my left wrist as a reminder when things got tough that He was with me. At this point a tattoo was not in my future. However, the cross on my wrist was my rock, my reminder and my strength.

Fall of that year I started school and work on campus. Before classes even began, I was set up with a mutual friend who was a junior at the same university. Our relationship progressed; he became my first true love, my best friend. My busy routine consisted of class, work, studying and hanging out with him. I had planned and expected to grow my faith in college through the plethora of Christian organizations on campus but that took a backseat; God took a backseat. I put my self-worth and happiness in my school performance and my boyfriend. We started attending a weekly free lunch and devotion provided by the Baptist Campus Ministry (BCM) but that was the extent of my Christian involvement outside of the occasional trip to my home church. Spring semester began and I started to hit a low, I attributed it to the poor eating and sleeping habits of college but many days I could barely get out bed for class or work. I started calling my mom often, I was so incredibly unhappy and unmotivated. I began researching and taking vitamins that supported mood, anxiety and mental health. Early in the semester I saw an email from BCM advertising a mission trip to NYC for spring break. I knew at that moment God was using my love of NYC to bring me back to Him and pull me from my slump. I knew I had to answer His call even if it meant going alone. My boyfriend was not too thrilled about the idea of going with me; especially as a newly 21 year old with his friends going to Florida. He said, "Convince me and I will think about it", to which I replied “I am not going to beg, but I would love for you to go” and I prayed. I wanted his company for various reasons. I wanted validation that he would chose me (and God) over drinking and his friends. I am not a very outgoing person and although knew I could and would go alone I really wanted him by my side, I wanted to share my love of the city with him and I wanted us to both grow closer to Christ. He finally said I think I want to go and in that moment I felt like it was an answered prayer, I was excited and happy because I received that validation. The week ended up being great, I loved staying in a residential area of the city and the ability to get away from everyone and walk around central park for some alone time. God had even strategically placed a painted sign on a building right by where we stayed that read: “Depression is a flaw in chemistry not character.” The thought still leaves me speechless. I walked away with great memories and joy that I got to experience it was someone I loved but I was left empty as well. I was not as spiritually healed as I expected; I wanted it to just automatically happen and walk away with that spiritual high that happened with other mission trips and church camps. However, SURPRISE God knew what He was doing, He always does. 

Because of this trip, I met some awesome people involved in BCM. He led my boyfriend to be involved in BCM’s praise band, which initiated our attendance of BCM’s weekly worship. I did not know it then but this group would lead me to my best friends, it provided a platform for a suffering friendship to be healed, it would encourage me, strengthen me and challenge me. I even spent my senior year as President of the organization.

I returned from spring break and back to reality, I still felt like a fraud, I faked my happiness, I lived a double life that I knew was wrong and full of sin, the guilt made things worse. I knew I was raised differently, I knew I wasn’t going to Heaven the way I was living yet I forced myself to act like it because I couldn’t let anyone know I was a mess and I wasn’t willing to give up my sins. Mom encouraged me to go to a doctor and talk to someone about birth control to help regulate my hormones to improve my emotions and moods. Summer started shortly after and I moved back home. I visited Charlotte often and worked part time as a nanny during those summer months. My sophomore year was a blur, it had it's highs and lows; my self-worth was still placed in my boyfriend. I gradually I began to lose trust in him due to his actions and friendships with other girls. The depression was rough but I accepted it as my life. I just took it day by day and when you sleep most of the day they go by pretty quickly.

“So Kelsey what about this tattoo, get to the point already geez…” Ah right, I'm getting there and if you read this far then props! The good part is coming I promise.

It was the end of summer #2, the stress and anxiety set in hard. I equate it to a form of PTSD where I began to brace myself for what I expected to come. The beginning of a school year the past two year had been stressful and full of immense change that I never handle well so I expected this year to be just the same. The thought crippled me, this time as summer ended and I knew my time with my boyfriend would once again be limited as classes, work and other organizations required our time. On top of that, I knew the girls he flirted with and hung out with without me would soon be back in the area. I could not trust him but could not lose him. That summer he and I both got involved in a local church that I LOVED but the guilt of my double life made it harder. I was at a low and so lost, I went to a doctor where I was put on a SSRI antidepressant. My mom was the only person who knew, I was ashamed that I could not help myself, that I was flawed and damaged. The appointment was scheduled right before things started to decline further with my relationship; God knew I was going to need to boost even more, He prepared me for His purpose. I knew things had to change if we were going to be together forever but I did not want to let it go, I just wanted him to love me. It is scary, no terrifying to put your entire self worth in someone who can decide you were not worth keeping around. (Side note: God will never do that; find your self worth in Him). I did not have anyone else though; the end of he and I meant losing the closest friends I had made during my two years of college: him and his roommates. 

Once he said those words "I love you but I'm just not in love with you" and he left it was an odd feeling of relief. I did not know why, all I could think was “I should be doubled over crying right now, I had starved myself for a week knowing this was coming and I’m relieved?!” My next thought was oh no, BCM is going to be awkward, I have to tell everyone so I don’t end up bawling my eyes out when they bring it up. So I texted my BCM “friends” who I always kept at an arm’s length out of fear they would see through my poker face and said something like “Hey, just so you know and don’t make things awkward when the dynamic duo doesn’t walk into BCM together next week, he broke up with me. I’m okay right now, I’m not sure why or when I will crash but I just needed to let you know” The love and support from these women who went from “friends” to BEST FRIENDS was comforting. I just felt a relief, a weight lifted off my shoulders. I knew I would be okay. Still doing what I do best and keeping everyone at a distance I felt alone in my situation. My next thought was how much I struggled to get out of bed and function when we were together and now he is gone, the semester just started I’m going to fail all my classes! I knew I had one person and I person alone that could get me through it, God. Yeah, there were times it hurt; it hurt hard for a while. Seeing him with someone else who I knew had a hand it our break up, seeing him with our mutual friends and weekly at BCM hurt. I was happier than I had been in a while and wanted to experience things with him, I wanted to share my newfound happiness in Christ and to show him the positive impacts the medicine had made on my life. I finally felt lovable again because a combination of the medicine and my strength in Christ. This was the first time I confidently say I had a real relationship with Him. Gradually from that first text message I sent the night of the break up I started to let myself develop real friendships with people who supported me anytime I was down and always pointed me to God. I started again writing my reminder cross on my wrist. For the first time I seriously considered it as a tattoo (at minimum so I could stop waking up with sharpie transferred on my neck or arms). I wanted it to be permanent; but even more I wanted that feeling of joy to be permanent. It was Sept of 2013 and I would be turning 21 in a few months. I convinced myself that for my 21^st birthday, it was happening. I started trying out locations and sizes on my wrist, practicing covering it up with a watch if ever necessary as well as researching shops. I also discovered the beauty of white ink tattoos with the initial intent that it would be less noticeable than a black tattoo. This was going to be my 21^st birthday gift to myself a small white ink cross on my left wrist. I know you are thinking, “YAY finally end of this awful story” well reader I get to disappoint you a little more and say I chickened out and never did it. So the story continues.

The following summer of 2014, I went through another break up; this one different and harder than the first because this time I was doing the hurting and there was nothing I could do to fix it or make it better. I felt loved, valued, cherished and supported; He was everything I needed a girl could dream of but I just was not able to fully reciprocate those feelings. I started my senior year at UNC Charlotte with some amazing roommates, friends through BCM and classmates in my program that I knew well. I was in a good place, not as strong as I was in the past but pretty content. I grew close to a male friend and classmate who had been there since day one of school. We started out in the same degree program and ended up both switching to another. He could read me like a book and was the only one who was in my life consistently from day 1 of college, at this point everyone else had already left. We were teammates, study partners, motivators. He did not let me give up or fail when things in life got tough (partially because he needed my brains to help him study). Then things became more than friends, I again put my worth in his attention and affection. My strength and emotions went downhill again; my highs and lows were placed in his hands. Commitment was not his thing and although I knew that, I still valued his attention and let it control my emotions. In March, I went on a cruise with him and some friends. The trip was just what I needed; no phone service and no responsibilities. I often experience towards the end of vacations immense stress and dread, as I know I have to leave a time of happiness back to my struggling reality. The last night of the cruise I shut down, I knew I had to go back to reality and that crushed me. I stood on the back of the cruise ship that night looking out at the moon and the water and just cried. I knew I could not but in that moment I thought about how easy it would be to jump and disappear forever. I returned and ended up increasing my dose of meds for a while to get me through the rest of the semester, he and I drifted apart. Then summer came and he and I went our separate ways for good.

Update: still no tattoo but it’s summer 2015 so at worst this story only has to go on for another year.

So, I started an internship with my dad and took myself off my meds. I spent the weeknights at home with my parents and my weekends moving. It was a transitional summer from an apartment where I had experienced the last three years of joys, tears, and 8 different roommates to a house with friends I had met as a freshman through BCM. I knew as my final semester approached that the “Fall seasonal slump” would be back and the bittersweet emotions of my final semester would be hard so I put myself back on my meds. My last week of summer was spent with my dad for work in Germany, I loved seeing the company and another country but once again, I crashed. I cried through my last dinner trying to hide it from my poor dad who had no idea why the heck I was crying. I went through the semester struggling because for the first time in 4 years I didn’t have my teammate with me to celebrate our journey together. He was there right next to me in class but not there for me, not like it used to be. However, I made it, I stayed busy with BCM and my sorority, I was chosen for homecoming court, worked both my campus jobs and extended my summer internship by working 8-5 three days a week. Approaching graduation was hard; reflecting on the roller coaster that was the last 4 and a half years of my life was extremely hard. Two weeks later I started 2016 and my first full time job at a company that I grew up hearing my dad talk about.

SPOILER ALERT: She gets the tattoo

Finally, in February I made a quick decision and appointment for that evening to get my tattoo in white ink. It had been over two years since I discovered the white ink but it became more than just a way to hide my tattoo. It has the appearance of a scar; it is the scar that reminds me of where my strength should come and what He has done for me. It is also hard to see, just as my struggles and pain are hard to see or open up and talk to anyone. Those who know me may think, “Well you are vocal about your struggles; you talk about it, it was your homecoming campaign platform and you share things on Facebook” but I am here to tell you it is a huge front. I did not know that my response to my interview question “What is a cause or issue about which you are passionate?” would be shared with the entire student body. It was terrifying being told that, I almost dropped out but I knew this was what God needed me to do not only for others but also for myself. Even then, I only shared the polished surface; I showed a few cracks and blemishes but never the rusted metal that was crumbling underneath. Until now…

There are times when I am not okay. There are times when if it were not for the people God has placed in my life I would not be here writing this. Those times come and go; those times happen more than you know and more recently that my story shows. (Alright Dr. Seuss chill with the rhymes) I have thought about about ending my life. Thoughts such as how I would do it and what would be the least painful for my friends and family. I’ve thought about how I just wish God would take my life in a car accident or something of the sort. I’ve selfishly wished for the worst things to happen because I know I could never physically do it to myself. There was one time a while back when I started having these thoughts and I thought if I ever got to that point who would I write a letter to before I left. I knew I owed everyone more than a generic letter. My mind went to the people in my life I was the least close to, coworkers, teachers, managers, etc. Why them? Why not my family first? Because the thought of having to do that was unbearable, the mere thought of putting my boss at my part time job through the pain (and having to hire someone who could fold hoodies as well as me) crushed me, I couldn’t imagine what it would do to my family and friends. It was an overwhelming feeling to scratch the surface of whom I would hurt by leaving; it was a humbling feeling to be reminded I have to push on for them. The strongest thing you can do is to live with those thoughts and pain, the most courageous thing you can do is to not end it, live through the struggle and overcome it. But How? It’s hard, I’m not going to pretend otherwise. There are going to be people in your life who don’t get it, boyfriends/girlfriends, family and friends who say “suck it up and be happy” and that is going to hurt even more. You are going to feel alone in your struggles. Often I feel like a burden, when my emotions take over and I become a mess or when I let someone down because I cannot physically function. Sometimes my work or friendships suffer because of my actions and pain. I feel like I am not an easy person to love, to be with, to be around. Sometimes I just do not want to talk about it, don’t take it personally but sometimes I do not even know how to put my feelings into words even if I did want to talk. It’s hard, but I fight that feeling to end my life because I have a God who has a purpose for me. I strive to live for Him with every breath I take. There are times that I’m going to need medication and even increased doses in harder times. I’m going to shut down and I’m going to let people down. I’m going to feel worthless and be consumed by my thoughts. I’m going to check out and disappear, I’m going to avoid my friends because I simply can’t handle interaction or don’t want anyone to see me struggle. The little things are going to set me off because on the inside there are bigger things I’m fighting. And it is all okay because HE never changes, never leaves, will always love me and has a plan! I know I have a Lord and Savior, I find joy in him and his glory. His love, just like my tattoo is permanent. It does not take away the depression but it gives me the strength to keep going. Depression can coexist with God; Depression doesn’t mean lack of God and it is not a sin. Having anxiety and stress does not mean I’m not a good enough Christian and that if I just had faith it would all go away. This tiny tattoo on my arm that is barely noticeable to anyone represents more than just my life, it represents everyone hurting and suffering whether it be with depression or something that I can’t even imagine. It represents the scars of Jesus’ sacrifice for us. Things of this world will never make it better but we can do all things through Him and only through Him.

“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” Galatians 2:20