My second tattoo was something that came about, in a round about way. I was a cutter when I was younger. There is a place on my arm that has about 4 scars, that I had grown to be embarrassed of. They represented my depression, stupid decisions, and things that I wish I had never done.
When you are depressed (for me anyways), you have this tiny voice, that never lets you rest. It says bad stuff to me, about me. You are fat, you are ugly, you are worthless. It also keeps going over events in your life that were not great. I had already started treatment for depression, and knew that the tiny voice (my subconscious) was no friend to me. I had to learn to forgive myself. So I did (took years).
My second tattoo says forgive and forget. I needed to forgive myself and try to forget it. That started a lifelong obsession of expressing myself through my body. I generally dont like people, talking and getting close to them makes me sick (anxiety). I have so many feelings and tattoos were a way for me to let them all out.
People often ask me if tattoos hurt. Uh...yup. That is why I do it. For the time that it takes for the artist to finish, is the amount of time my tiny voice (bitchy me), shuts up. When it is all over, and the artist rubs Vaseline on it, I am flying high.