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4 point suicide suspension

A quick background about myself: At 5’8” and almost 300lbs, I had never seen or heard of people my size being suspended. I kept making excuses not to do it. I need to lose weight, I don’t have the money, I don’t know if I’m ready, etc, etc. I have various piercings and have performed a chest hook pull twice prior. This passed weekend I had the opportunity and I took it. I was suspended in a 4 point suicide suspension using four  8g hooks. I wrote this the day after the experience while it was still fresh in my mind. It is only a small glimpse into my mind and journey :)


I feel the need to write before I forget. Already little details are gone and I don’t want to lose more.

I already forget the pain. I know it was painful, I know it hurt when my skin was pinched up, the needles stung, followed by the hooks. I know it hurt, just like logically I know there is oxygen in the air. But I already don’t really remember the sensation of pain, just the fact that there was pain.

I remember being given the choice, having two pierced simultaneously or all four separately. My mind didn't think ‘what will hurt less?’ instead I thought ‘I'm lying in the sun, better do it quick so I don’t get sunburnt’.

Deep breathes, in and out and I could hear the wet pop as the needles and hooks went through. Another few breathes and the other hooks were in.

I remember wanting to drink my water, wishing it was colder. I was walked to where the suspension rig was. I was stood facing away from the crowd, into the trees. I was keeping back tears already. They attached the string to my hooks, making some jokes about not remembering how to tie the knot. The rabbit goes up the hole, around the tree and back down the hole. Trying not to cry and laughing. Not taking anything seriously right then.

The strings are attached, a bit of tension is put on the hooks. There was the sting as the hooks moved in my skin, pulled a bit upwards. A feeling of heat as my skin stretched. I started rocking side to side, it felt like the right thing to do.

I started bending my knees to increase tension. My back hurt, and not where the hooks were but the muscles, from standing in an awkward stance. Standing up the slack was taken up. I was holding on, hiding my face. Crying happened, a lot, mixed with laughter, both genuine and nervous laughter. I was nauseous and terrified.

I was told to talk, what was I feeling? ‘I don’t know’. It was ok not to know. ‘I'm scared’. Of what? ‘Not being able to get off the ground, of not being able to do it’. It’s ok. Even if I didn't go up. I was told to think of what I had already succeeded at. I had hooks in my back, which was an accomplishment. I had tension on the lines, which was an accomplishment. Even if I didn't go up, I had accomplished more than others.

Everyone is watching. ‘I don’t know if that’s helpful or not’. They’re here to support you. ‘I know’. More alternating of crying and laughing. I wasn't crying from the pain but I was crying anyway. I was told that it was ok to cry.

I kept bending my knees to increase tension, then standing up to have more rope taken up. I kept thinking that I wasn't progressing, that I wasn't gaining. But I kept going. Slowly but surely, repeating these motions until I was standing only my toes, holding on only for support and balance, mental and physical. I swung side to side, jumping from foot to foot, increasing the time that both feet were off the ground.

I pulled my feet up, hung there for a bit. I was up! My back cracked and I almost laughed. I needed to come back down, just for a bit. Then again, working slowly, side to side, back and forth. At one point my hands moved to his shoulders, starting to use them to pull myself up. 'oh, she's going to climb me'. More laughing and crying. Moving, up and up until my feet were up, off the ground. I feel the rope being pulled. I couldn't touch the ground, I tried.

“You don’t want to touch the ground”. He was right; I didn't want to touch the ground. The rope was pulled a bit more, I went up higher; I was quite a few feet taller than everyone around me now. I needed my water again, sipping at it, again wishing it was colder. I thought next time I'll get colder water. I must be crazy, already thinking about next time!

I was turned around and saw everyone who was watching. So many people I had not met until a day or so before, who were there to watch me, to support me.

I was hanging there, laughing and crying. I hid my face, my tears. I was told to let go of the tension in my shoulders and arms. it was so hard to do. I wanted to keep my hands up, cover my face, wrap them around my front. I tried to let go, let them fall to my side. It was so hard. There was pain from the hooks, from my skin being stretched, carrying the weight. I know that there was, but I can’t really remember what it felt like.

I moved my hands away from my face. I saw everyone that was there but did not completely register individual faces. They were there for me and that’s all that mattered. I wanted to keep my eyes open more, but I kept finding myself closing them, kept moving my arms to wrap around again.

I kept trying to stretch, to get the ache out of my back. I remember that the pain from my back was greater than the pain from the hooks. I was mad at my body for being able to deal with being pulled up with hooks but being in more pain from my muscles.

I don’t know how long I was up for; it didn't matter because I was up. I started to feel light headed, a few spots going grey in my vision. I wanted to fight it, try to stay up but I knew that I needed to come down. Did I want to just take a break or was I done? I was done, this time.

You’re going to feel heavy as you come down. I did, I felt so heavy, like gravity had suddenly doubled. It felt good to stand up straight, even feeling that heavy. The heaviness wore off quickly. The strings were cut and I was walked back to the piercing area.


I had done it! It’s still surreal thinking I was able to. The holes and ache in my back are reminders that will fade but I want to be able to remember far longer than either of those.


submitted by: Maygen
on: 17 July 2013
in Ritual Events, Suicide Suspensions

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Tuesday, July 30, 2013 @6:02 p.m.
This is a wonderful description, I enjoyed your writing.
Wednesday, August 7, 2013 @5:10 a.m.
Makes me wanna try, good job.

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