At A Glance
Author	anonymous
Contact	detoxicity@gmail.com
When	It just happened

I have always loved the sight and feel of blood. Blood is so exotic and vital. I have always been drawn to the use of blood imagery in written and visual arts. To me, beauty can be seen in a deep crimson against porcelain white skin.

I never intentionally cut myself growing up. But I did have a fascination with making myself bleed. I would absentmindedly pick scabs, reopen wounds, and most often would scratch my skin so much that it tore open.

These habits persisted through my high school life, and only as I enter university I have begun a change.

This year I realized the toll my actions were taking on my skin. As a competitive athlete, I train in warm facilities and in clothing that is fairly revealing. My tattered skin is viewable to all. At 18 years old, friends, acquaintances, and teammates would ask if I had been bitten by animals, insects, or what accidents I had been in. I began to feel self-conscious of my body, and so I decided to stop destroying my skin.

But my obsession with blood never ceased, it seemed to intensify. I became obsessed with blood play and piercings, reading articles over and over again. When I cut myself intentionally for the first time, I was captivated. I marveled at the sight of my own blood running freely down my legs and arms. But it wasn't enough; I craved for more. It wasn't the pain I was looking for, I was just craving the sensation of bleeding freely.

I recalled the feeling when donating blood: the first initial prick of the needle, the tube being connected, relaxing in the chair, feeling your body becoming lighter and lighter. I craved that feeling. I craved to see blood running down my body, craved to feel lighter, detoxify myself.

My mother is a doctor, and occasionally does home-visits. She has a small kit of medical supplies, including sterile insulin needles. After reading many articles, contemplating my planned course of action, and reviewing many images, I decided to try venipuncture blood play.

I took a needle, some rubbing alcohol, cotton swabs, and other medicinal supplies to be used for later bandaging. I wanted to be safe and clean. I went into my bathroom, placed all my supplies on the counter, and started a hot shower.

I meticulously cleaned my materials and myself. I washed an area of the counter with soap and water. Dried it clean. Laid out my materials. Soaked a cotton swab in rubbing alcohol, and carefully wiped down the skin of my inner elbow. I discarded the swab, and soaked another one, and proceeded to clean the needle.

I stood, facing myself in the mirror, and looked at my inner arm. I have very prominent veins, and to make things easier for myself I chose the largest blue vein from my inner elbow. I carefully picked up the needle and placed it against my skin. Deep breath, closed my eyes. Opened my eyes, and pushed the needle in. I felt a prick, took another deep breath. I paused for a moment to feel cool metal inside my vein. Closed my eyes, breathed again. Pulled the syringe back, removed blood.

I marveled as I watched the syringe fill with blood. It really was as dark and crimson as I recalled from the donor clinic. I filled the syringe as far as I could, almost completely full. I was satisfied with this amount. I removed the needle and watched, amazed, as my own blood began to run down my arm. I looked at my filled syringe, and I suddenly needed to feel more blood run down my body. I stepped into the shower, and pushed all the blood from the needle onto my chest.

I stood in the hot shower, and reveled in the cool blood running down my body, down the drain. My craving for emptiness and flowing blood is satisfied in this. I love blood, and I loved the sensation of my own blood running down my skin. Red water against white porcelain.

I sat under the warm water, and felt myself bleed clean. Watched all negative feelings run down the drain, leaving me empty and clean. I felt lifted, vacant, and light. Calm and relaxed, I felt devoid of all negativism, and could face the world with a smile.

I stepped out of the shower, dried myself off, and wrapped myself in a towel. I cleaned my arm once more with rubbing alcohol, and bandaged my wound. I put the needle back into its case to be discarded, and cleaned up my materials and working area.

I curled up in bed, and reflected. Blood play and venipuncture have given me a release that cutting never could. I am able to satisfy my cravings and desires, while reducing the physical scars on my body. I am able to continue with my blood play and be comfortable with my body appearance.

I feel that bleeding freely gives me a fresh start so I can face my problems with a smile. My detoxification.