In some shape or form I carry my burdens and struggles as weight on my shoulders. My most current albatross resides in the form of a seemingly incurable virus, eluding my attempts to assuage it's strain by continually changing and re-inventing a new guise. With each new day I've dreamt up new ways of combating my mind's disease, now knowing that my infection is nothing less than an inflammation of apathy.
At A Glance Author Lauren Contact Lauren@bme.anon IAM notjustmoreidlechatter When Six months ago Artist Rites of Passage, Iwascured, Ihung Studio An old mill Location RI Suscon - Providence, RI Being fully aware of it's detriment, I somehow allowed myself to succumb to apathy's weight and consequence and felt my knees beginning to buckle from beneath me. It was only when I began to fall that I recognized I was the only one who could save me from myself before becoming my own casualty. Upon this realization, I made a choice – a conscious decision to fight all of my irrationalities, all of my insecurities and fears, and all of my apathetic tendencies and, literally, hang them by the last thread breathing life into them – myself. I made a choice to pick my feet up off the ground and fly by way of a suicide suspension.
Friday, February 21st, I let my wet footprints cover the creak-squeaky stairs of the mill in which two rooms were rented for the Rhode Island Suscon. I had originally intended to suspend on Saturday, but after finding out one specific person would only be present Friday and Sunday, I changed the date to Friday so as to reflect how necessary her presence was during this experience for me. All the while, in the back of my head, I was anticipating everything I was about to experience; knowing this was something I needed to do, something I wanted to do, not knowing what to expect, and certainly not wanting to know. This was my last stand, my beating myself to the punch
After procrastinating for seven hours, I finally agreed it was time to get my hooks. Anyone who knows me knows how I fill with dread at the anticipation of getting my hooks. I finally laid down on the massage table, ready for what I was about to receive. It was determined I'd have three people throwing my six hooks, though they'd have to take turns in twos due to the awkwardness of trying to pierce me in two sets of three. I sent the minions to find Liz because I needed her hand as I always do and Brian and Jon helped to prepare me while Craig agreed to be my breathing coach.
Brian squirted my back with technicare, rubbed it all over the area to be pierced and grabbed some sterilized gauze to wipe up the excess. Brian and Craig marked my back after grabbing and pinching my skin to figure out the placement of the hooks that would be most comfortable for me. Then Brian and Jon both opened the packs of sterilized hooks and got ready as Liz grabbed my left hand and Craig knelt down speaking words of encouragement. There was no more waiting, no more 'one more minute, please?', no more holding off. This was it. Craig breathed deep with me once and on the second exhale I heard 'pierce!' and my first set of hooks were in place. Jon and Craig switched placed and this was repeated twice over. And then after much hesitation, much waiting, much procrastinating and much anticipation, I was physically ready.
I had told everyone I wanted a private suspension but that those who were close to me would be allowed in the room while I was up. Everyone, being respectful of my wishes, filed out of the room with the exception of those I know well and love. Jon was immediately setting up the rigging while Phil was tying up the parachute chord to the rig. Here I was, standing in the middle of the room with everyone I care about looking on with what seemed like almost as much apprehension as I was experiencing. I wasn't sure I'd be able to go up I was so nervous. Once everything was in place, Phil began 'dancing' with me, walking me back and forth allowing Jon to apply more pressure to my back by raising the hoist ever so slightly each time I changed direction..
And then it happened. I couldn't do it. I was so overwhelmed by everything that I needed to have a clearer frame of mind. In the most polite way possible, I had Phil ask everyone to leave. It wasn't that I hadn't wanted them there, because I had. It just felt like the most vulnerable moment in my entire life and as much as I wanted to share that with everyone I love to bring them closer to me, I needed to be alone. Phil put my compilation CD back on the first song on repeat, the only song I wanted to go up to and we began to dance again, this time only with him, myself and Jon in the room.
The quiet was intimidating yet strengthened me at the same time. It hung like a cloud over the empty room and though I was close to crying out of frustration of having to make my friends leave, we continued to dance. At that point, despite the silence, the music was almost deafening in my perception, though it was probably barely above a normal volume. What a disorienting experience to be able to hear that music so amplified and such consuming silence at the same time. I was so concentrated on that strange interpretation of the sound around me, I didn't even realize how much tension was now on my back until Phil gave me a big push.. I was up, but I wouldn't let go of his hands. A wave of relief washed over me and I felt it down to my toes and fingertips. As the next few minutes went by Phil pushed me around a little bit as I became more comfortable. I let go of his hands and was started swinging on my own. At that point, I was smiling and ready for everyone else to come back. They let everyone back in and I told Phil to let anyone who wanted to come in (not just friends) that it was alright to.
I was up for roughly forty minutes or so I believe. Hearing that my CD was almost over confirmed this. It really didn't feel like that long at all because I was having too much of a good time, if there is such a thing. I had people swing me around, I almost kicked some lights out, I spun for what seemed liked forever. I was in the air and I was happy about it. If I hadn't suspended, I don't think I'd ever truly believe there was such a positive way to release such negative pent up energy as that ones I had been experiencing prior to the Suscon.
Being let down was rougher than I had expected. I had only felt that heavy once before in my life, when I was let down from my super(wo)man suspension. Ironically enough, most of the weight felt as if it were resting on my shoulders and my knees almost buckled – exactly what I had set out to fight. But this time, this time I stood strong knowing I cut apathy's last thread when they cut me down from the rig . My knees would no longer buckle and I would not fall because now I could stand with strength and confidence on my own.
Thank you Rites of Passage. Thank you Iwascured. Thank you Ihung. Thank you for your help. Thank you to everyone who experience this with me. Thank you for this experience.