This week has been a pretty bad one for my mental health. I’ve worked back to back shifts, not eaten properly, struggled to sleep and even forgotten to take medication. I could feel myself sinking back to where I was in February and I just can’t let that happen.

After a pretty good sleep (read long sleep) on a day off, one of our best friends came to stay for the weekend. After a few drinks Mr G finally admitted he wouldn’t mind me getting a nose ring so I booked myself into our local tattoo and piercing place the next day. When I arrived I asked how much it would be to get a small, simple tattoo on my wrist.

The semicolon. Something that can join two independent clauses if not already joined by a conjunction.

You may have seen the Facebook Ads for jewellery with a portion of the profit given to depression charities? No? They use the semicolon and the phrase my story isn’t over yet.

When I saw it something clicked, and after a pretty rubbish week a needed a little pick me up. Without really thinking I asked to have a semicolon tattooed on my wrist as a permanent reminder that my story isn’t over. While my ups and downs are completely independent areas of my life, they are joined by the fact it is my life.

Each day when I admire it (because let’s face everyone admires their new tattoo for the first few days) I smile a little and think about that phrase.

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