(First off, a mandatory disclaimer. What I did may have been beneficial for me and my emotions, but don't run out and do anything that I did thinking that it will help you. There are people willing to help you through the mourning process at every turn. Don't hurt yourself, because it will only make things worse.)
At A Glance Author cuthalcoven Contact cuthalcoven@bme.anon IAM cuthalcoven When It just happened Artist Me Location Toledo, OH I'm one of those people that is everyone else's backbone. Our family recently suffered a tragedy...our little boy, Dameatrius McCreary was hit by a car after getting off of his bus after school. The woman was on her cell phone and sped around the lights and sign at 63 mph. He died from the impact, his neck was shattered and there was nothing that any form of modern medicine could do to save him.
Everyone, naturally, was in shock. He was 5 years old, and had his whole life ahead of him. I had to be strong for my sister and for the rest of the family, giving them a shoulder to cry on and being there for them. I haven't slept, because my younger sister keeps climbing in bed with me because she cries all night in her sleep having nightmares. I'm everyone else's rock, and no one stopped to realize that I might be aching inside as well. No one is holding me and telling me that it will get better...no one is telling me that it's allright to grieve and to cry, but I'm expected to do the same for all of them. And I do, willingly, because I know how much they're hurting.
Mitri was buried on Tuesday, and that's when I realized the finality and hopelessness of the situation. He's never coming back, and there's nothing that I can do for anyone else if I can't get myself together first. I disappeared into the basement and started writing out my memories of him...the good times and the bad, the times I wanted to choke him and the times I couldn't stop holding him. I thought that I could finally say goodbye by doing this, but it didn't work, the ache was still as heartbreaking as it had been since I heard the news on Thursday. Looking around, I remembered that I had some 22ga play piercing needles I was saving for the summer Great Lakes BBQ. It seemed like the perfect time to use them, so I grabbed them and my little piercing box and went outside to the backyard. Sitting next to the fire pit, I lit a couple of pieces of newspaper over the logs and managed to get a halfway decent fire going.
The needles were autoclaved, and I had sterilized lab gloves for anatomy, so I went ahead and just used rubbing alcohol to clean off my right forearm, since I'm left handed. (Please note, I started the fire before I touched anything that was sterile!) Pinching the skin a bit, I managed to get the first needle to go through. It snagged a little on the exit, but it wasn't too bad. I honestly couldn't feel it. I ended up doing 6, as he was going to turn 6 in May. The 5th one was a little crooked, but I didn't really feel like taking it out and redoing it, as it was personal and not meant to be perfect.
After the needles were in, I just at there. I can't even tell you how long I just sat there staring into the flames and thinking about nothing. Dameatrius wasn't even on my mind, it was just blissfully blank. Finally, I just put my head in my hands and cried. All the tears and emotions that had been welling up for days seemed to just erupt from me, it was such a relief to finally feel like I could cry, and it was allright because no one else was seeing my "weakness".
When I finally looked at my watch, it was 2:30 in the morning. I was so shocked that the mosquitos hadn't eaten me alive, but I think the smoke probably helped keep them at bay. I pulled the needles out of my arm slowly, and then remembered that I'm anemic, and I hadn't eaten anything. Yay. So I was bleeding pretty bad, but the blood started dropping onto my paper of memories, and it felt right, so I let it continue. Once it started slowing down I wiped my arm with alcohol again, and then put bandaids over the entry and exit holes to make sure I wouldn't bleed all over my bed. I burned the paper, and I finally, truly felt release. It was honestly like I realized that there were people here on this earth that needed me, and that Dameatrius was okay and safe, and I didn't need to protect him anymore. I admit it...I cried myself to sleep.
This morning, I looked at my arm and saw the faint bruises of the needles running underneath the surface of the skin. And it felt right. Today I cried with my sister, as apposed to being stoic as a rock when she needed me. I'm finally letting go, and being able to say goodbye, and for that, this experience is nothing I will probably ever be able to put in eloquent words, or make anyone else understand. But for me? I'd do it again, in a heartbeat.