I never understood why people participated in play piercing. I was sure they had their reasons, and that was good enough for me. Randomly looking over people's pages, I was bombarded with the images. Corsets and various designs. All of it very interesting, some of it ever beautiful, but it didn't really appeal to me. Perhaps having four inch long needles inserted into my spine for the past few weeks can be rather discouraging. Then again maybe the idea of hurting myself on purpose and having nothing to show for it afterwards just didn't seem like the right thing to do, when I was in constant pain from an injury. Regardless of the reasoning behind it, I had decided I was not going to be "one of those people who play pierce.
At A Glance Author .megdalyn. Contact hollyhateful@aol.com IAM .megdalyn. When It just happened Artist Laura & Dina (aka tekky and dinacolada) Studio private home. Location Mississauga Ontario It's funny how quickly things can change. Sitting in a friend's backyard, the idea was brought up. I don't know what possessed me to speak up, but I said I would join in if they (being Laura and Mike) wanted me to. I said I had never done it before, but I was perfectly willing to be poked.
In we went to the living room. I remember sitting down on the edge of the couch and rolling up my sleeve, wondering what I got myself into. Everything was ready. Clean gloves, wipes, a sharps bottle, and of course, needles. Mike and I played rock paper scissors to see who went first. He won the choice and decided for me to go first. I think it was easier that way, although I have nothing to compare it to.
I sat up almost painfully straight. I've always had a thing about watching everything a nurse did to me to prep for blood work and the like. This was much the same in that I watched Laura's every move. Not due to lack of trust, just an overwhelming curiosity, and need to take everything in.
Within about a minute, I had three twenty-five gauge needles in my left forearm. It happened so quickly. I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting, but I'm sure I thought it would hurt more. It was only a mild prick once it broke the skin on the exit side, and after, a warm burning sensation, like a sunburn or cat scratch.
Whatever I thought this experience would be, it wasn't. I was expecting pain, and instead I felt amazing. As people, we experience pain on a regular basis. Physically, mentally, emotionally. This was about control. I hurt because I chose to hurt myself (or rather, have someone hurt me.) I could make it stop, I could make it worse. I thought of all the things I was scared of, all the things I worried about in life. At that moment, they didn't seem like such big problems after all. I felt like I could live through anything.
Laura put another six (three each side) twenty-five gauge needles in my chest before I took a break. Shortly thereafter, Dina used me as a guinea pig. It's amazing how much you can trust someone you barely know. I kept thinking to myself, "This is only skin." It's almost eerie how that idea can calm me so much.
Dina used ten more of the needles along my collar bones, five a side, and wasn't pleased with her lack of symmetry. Not that it much mattered to me. I lay back and closed my eyes and opened the packs of needles just took deep breaths. Honestly, I could have gone for quite a few more, if it weren't for the lack of sterile gloves.
The repetition of it was quite soothing. Each needle brought with it a quick wave of adreneline that washed over my body and warmed my face.
Mike helped me take the needles out after they started slipping back under the skin.
The bleeding was minimal, although the bruising in some places, like high on my collar bones and low of my chest were pretty noticeable.
For years I cut myself when I was upset. This feels like the same kind of release, but on a slightly more socially accepted level. Obviously play piercing isn't considered common practice, but it's something that can be shared in an open and healthy way. I guess what I'm trying to say, is that for me, it doesn't carry the same stigma and shame associated with cutting.
I don't feel the need to share all this with most the people I know off Iam, mainly because I don't think I could explain it to them in such a was as they could understand. Truly understand, not just "yeah, you put needles in yourself. I get it." I wish it wasn't easier to avoid the topic than to explain it, but that just seems to be the way it is for me.
In a perfect world...