Eric Zink What is your story and why a Phoenix? I would love to know the meaning behind it?
As usual, when asking someone for “their story”, you’re never quite sure what is going to come out.
Ahhh… the mythological bird that would cast itself into a funeral pyre, and from the ashes, a new phoenix would arise, stronger than the old one. Death and rebirth. Starting again. With that being said, I’m going to dig into my memory banks and see how many I can come up with, and just hit the bullet points
- Age 20. 2nd year of college. Bad breakup with my GF and overall just a crappy year. Depression was weighing heavy, but I didn’t know that’s what it was. I just knew somehow I passed at the end of the year, and moved on
- Age 22. Car Accident Split second timing meant I lived. Off work for a month with a sore back, some whiplash, and (in hindsight) probably a concussion from smacking my head into the windshield pillar. The alternative could have been the trucks bumper coming through my driver’s side door, and probably into my hips as well. If I would have survived that impact, I was told my chances of being a paraplegic would have been very high. Again, split second timing was the difference between a sore back (which is what happened), or extremely high chance of paralysis, if not death.
- Age 24. Another breakup. And again, depression was weighing heavy.
- Age 26. Transferred to a new city, in a new position, and I knew NO ONE. I was working nights, my social life consisted of social chat rooms on my nights off, or early in the morning after I got back to my apartment. (As an aside, I may have saved someone’s life – long distance – who was suicidal. I may have to tell that tale at some point, but not here)
- Age 27, moved again, following my heart….
And…
Crushed!
There was a train bridge over a river near where I was staying. I’d often sit on the edge of the railway ties, feet dangling over edge)
- A few weeks later, I moved yet again to a city close by – my uncle and aunt lived there. They took me in and helped me get my feet under me againAge 29. Met a girl.Had some rough times, but got engaged, and got married in 2009. I gave up pretty much everything except the air in my lungs, and pretty much destroyed myself to keep her happy. It wasn’t enough. She called for separation at the end of 2016. And I had suspicions she was already seeing somebody at that point. In that 8 years, she says she miscarried (she also tended to lie whenever she thought it might gain her sympathy). I was working 2 jobs, she was always “too tired” or had “migraines” or Fibro” – none of which were actually diagnosed by a medical professional, to the best of my knowledge. So basically it was toxic. There was also her brother’s suicide, and I broke my shoulder – and sued my landlord because of it).
Basically from 2007-2016 I gave up friends, hobbies, mental health, physical health, and almost my sanity because she was toxic and due to personal beliefs and convictions, combined with her emotional abuse, I couldn’t call for a divorce. She did.
Ironically enough, the divorce went into effect at midnight, on the last day of March 2018. Midnight, on the last day of March? That means my divorce was finalized on April Fool’s Day. I find some dark humorous irony in that fact
Since Jan 1, 2017 I’ve been finding “me” again, letting go of the “me” I thought I was, or was supposed to be, or that I thought I should be…. I let that all go, and decided to just work on me, and share my journey as I go.
The tattoo and being ‘”Phoenix” has other parts to the story, If I was going to give the background, either it was going to be highlights (which you got) or something approaching a novel. And maybe I should attempt that someday!Abyway, from my older blog:
Tale Of the Tattoo Pt 1: Leave Me In Ashes
Tale Of The Tattoo Pt 2:I’ll Rise Up In Flames
There you go Eric, Hopefully that explains where I’ve come from and a bit about me.
The Phoenix Narrative 