Cutting my Belly (just the beginning)
OUND: I identify as a cutter in a non-professional, trauma driven sense of the word. From a young age I would cut myself out of extreme anger, fear or sadness. As I became more conscious of it, I found it released those emotions, instead of keeping them inside to fester. I work on a couple of crisis lines, and with abused children. During my various training groups, 'cutting' came up quite a bit, and I was forced to analyse the WHYs of my own behaviour more and more. While I didnt come to any sky-opening conclusions, I did realize (independantly from the group) that I was not alone, and that it can be okay to find physical means to express interal processes. JUMP AHEAD. Enter a new person in my life. Also a cutter, a BME addict, also interested in heavy mods, and other things I love. A new friendship forms, first over email, then in person. I have talked of wanting a cutting, or a branding. He has talked of wanting to DO cutting scarification. He's been witness to a number of cuttings, and worked intimately in a lab with scalpels. Familiar with the tools and process. A perfect match for some experimentation. I already know what I want and where I want it. ( I had originally intended it to be branded). A triangle over my uterus. I have had a lot of problems with my reproductive organs - particularly after a so-called wonder drug (depo-provera) ragaved them about 3 years ago. One of the lovely side effects I experienced from this drug was heavy menstrual bleeding for eight months, every day. So I have some issues about my uterus. I am told I will never be able to have children. (Hard to swallow, as I would like a small tribe of them). And then, this summer - a Miracle! I am pregant. A mistake. Totally unsuitable timing - I in the midst of university, AND the potential father a schizophrenic who opted to control his disease with crystal meth. I get an abortion. And realize that this triagle/stomach thing is definatly meant to be. AND ON TO THE CUTTING: October 31, 2000. The dining room table looks like a hospital unit. Germaphine, various scalpel handles, blades, meat pad bandages... Look at the pictures we sent in, and you'll see how important sterility is. It's decided to just start with a simple triangle, to see how I feel about BEING cut by someone other than myself, and how its working out, etc. Stencil is put on. Tummy is wiped with iodine. Our photographer is a little squeamish, but ready to go. I hop up on the table, covered by a duvet, covered by plastic backed hospital sheeting. Alf is put under my arm, and the process of my dilly-dallying begins....After the first cut my blood sugar takes a nose dive and I need a minute. Each side gets cut a number of times (Orbax would be better off to describe the process - as it was him doing it). The feeling of opening up flesh, for me, is an intensely beautiful thing. Its a very quiet feeling. The cutting feels sharp (duh), but not painful. More pressure than actual splitting on the first drag across the skin - the second and third cuts over top are brighter. I need to take little breaks (despite how small it is) because Im mentally having issues about letting someone else cut me. Particularly because I am involved with him on a personal level as well. (The last time let a 'partner' do work on me, we broke up half way through - hence my half finished chest tattoo). And I am NOT in control of cutting for the first time. Similar to tattooing, it feels like it is going deeper than it actually is. I feel embarrased about needing a break for something so small - being able to sit to be tattooed has been a growing process. Every time gets easier, and I figure this will be the same eventually, too. The cutting feels familiar, but also totally removed. A very confusing experience for my head. Albeit a good one. The experience is over, like a dream. I conk out on the couch and begin having a nightmare, and eventually end up in bed sleeping soundly. WHERE I'M AT NOW: Irriting it in hopes of some decent scarring. Ive been sitting in the bathtub, letting it soak, and get a wet infection, scrubbing at it, as well as stripping away the scab. Its only a week old right now, and only looks midly gross. The scab is puckering, and doesnt want to stay open at the corners.
We have plans to go over it again, especially the corners, if needed, and carry the design out to its full form spanning from hip to hip.
submitted by: Anonymous
on: 13 Nov. 2000