I designed this tattoo myself. It’s based on the idea that when two things come together, a third thing is created. The figure resembling an eight is a horizontal infinity symbol showing endless creative possibility. My tattoo symbolizes the creation of my daughter — a choice made in truth and love, the words written between each figure. I was adopted, and my parents were abusive; this design reflects my conscious choice that I didn’t want to become what I hate.
Growing up I had people in my life who were kind to me. My Sunday School Teacher was like a father figure to many of the kids from fractured households in the neighbourhood and had a huge impact on our lives. He said that if we share our problems with our children, then our children share our problems with their children and we keep doing that, then hopefully we’ll learn something. Perhaps become more loving and understanding.
He had manic depression and used to take medication for that. The church found out and stopped him from being Sunday School Teacher and Youth Leader because of his mental illness. He was also a scientist and a genius and people with minds like that often struggle with mental health. After that he went downhill and I stopped going to the church.
I shouldn’t even be talking to you now, as a couple of months ago I collapsed and died for around 10 minutes. I’ve got 13 broken ribs from the resuscitation. I spent seven days in hospital, and for three of those I was in a coma. I died once before after an accident on my pushbike when I was 19 years old. I was in a coma for a week that time.
I’m an agnostic. There’s definitely more to life than meets the eye, but I don’t believe we can ever fully understand or define what it is.
Once when I was in the Grampians, I had this feeling that my grandmother (I called her Mater) had said goodbye to me. So I rang home. I mean ringing my adoptive parents wasn’t something I did often, or wanted to do. It turns out she died the exact moment I called. Go figure. What are the chances of that.
