Why I had my Halo Emblem Tattooed on My Arm

Self Portrait, 08.23.2010

As Aaron Wolfe, my old friend and the tattoo artist who did the piece, said to me: “People are going to be asking you about this tattoo for the rest of your life. And you can tell them whatever you want — you can tell the truth, or you can lie.  It’s your choice.”

There are plenty of lies to be had, for sure. One of my acquaintances thought it was an outward symbol of the apocalyptic times in which we live. A sign of pessimism regarding the future. And though I am pessimistic about the future, it’s not the reason I got the tattoo.

Nearly two years ago, as I’ve written in the past, I was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy and congestive heart failure. I was expected to die — and I went through a grueling two weeks of hospitalization that was one part health care, one part imprisonment. My clothes were stripped from me, and I was forced to wear a hospital gown that thousands of other patients have worn. No underwear, no socks of my own, my every moment managed by a legion of doctors and nurses. When I got out of the hospital, I was an emotional disaster — fatalistic, broken, riddled with anxiety and depression.

And as silly as it sounds, one of the things that got me through it was a return to playing Halo 3 online with my gamer friends, of taking up the emblem that I’d used since 2004 and Halo 2, of going into virtual battle under my standard and kicking ass. When I crossed the one year survival mark, I knew I wanted to get a tattoo — and I knew I wanted to get that emblem on my arm. It just took me some time to get up the nerve to have it done.

And now it’s there, the gas mask rendered in negative space on a solid red field. It encompasses most of my right bicep, and when I look down and see it, I remind myself that I am a survivor, that I have lived longer than any medical doctor thought I would. It is my standard, and it will always be a part of me — long after Halo is gone, or I’ve moved on from gaming, it will still represent me as a fighter and a survivor. It is inevitable that I will be hospitalized again, but I will not lose my dignity when they strip my clothes and hook me to machines. I will look down at my arm and know myself. And regardless of what’s done to my body, I will still be whole.

"I have defied gods and demons. I am your shield, I am your swords. I know you -- your past, your future. This is the way the world ends."