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Scary Moments

This is my experience of scarification. Well, I'm writing this the day after my "adventure", as I like to call it. Body modification had always drawn me, but my foray into the world of scarification began on Saturday, December eighth. That was the first time I had heard of scarification…ever. My girlfriend had told me about it and had shown me some pictures from BME. One set of pictures, of a boy that had a scarified arm with three bent razorblades, really spoke to me.

The whole concept of scarification immediately drew me to it, I was never into tattoos, although I did have a desire for body art, and scarification seemed the answer. It looked really cool, and I already knew what I wanted - an O with a line through it like / that on my left wrist. I didn't understand the true reason for scarifying oneself. I thought that the people in the pictures did it solely because it looked good or for attention. My girlfriend, who is very understanding and open-minded, explained the true reasons for scarification and body modification in general: wanting to take that step from which one is into the person one wants to be. This made me even more determined to scarify myself. I didn't want to prepare, I didn't want to wait, and I wanted to do it. I wanted her input, though, so I said to her, " I would like to do that."

I sat nervously, waiting for her response. Finally, I got one. "Really? That's cool." After those two sentences, I knew I had her tacit support. We talked more about it, and I asked her questions about what to cut with, how to take care of it, and even risk of death, seeing as I was going to do it on my wrist.

I was absolutely certain I wanted to do it, and when Sunday came, I knew that that would be the day. I in a way felt it that morning. I was excited and scared all at once. As my girlfriend and I discussed it, making a plan, the entire idea seemed to be getting better and better. I knew for sure that at least an hour, and decided that would be the best time to do it.

I had been visiting my father, and when I got home I was scared and had a feeling something might go wrong. The fact that it was going to be on my wrist, that I was actually going to be on my wrist pounded in my brain. I wouldn't back out, though; I called my girlfriend, and got a Xacto knife and a serrated knife with a dull tip together, then boiled when them for sterilization.

The time until my brother left and I would be alone passed so SLOWLY. Even though I was scared, I couldn't wait to do it. When my brother finally left, I grabbed the knives, some ice, and red wine vinegar, then went up stairs, my girlfriend continuously asking me if I was one hundred percent sure I wanted to go through with it. After assuring her (many times) I was, I numbed my wrist with the ice, then began to cut the first slash. Yes, for all of you that wonder, it did hurt a lot.

Then, there was a knock on the door that scared the shit out of me. In a bit of a panic, I threw on a sweat- shirt and went downstairs. It was the neighbor, needing help to put together a DVD player. He just didn't know how to put it together and he wouldn't leave. He left after I assured him enough that I did not know how too. I went back upstairs and started again. God, the pain was horrible. Going over the freshly cut slash was probably the worst part, but I persevered.

When I finally finished with the actual cutting, I poured red wine vinegar onto the cuts and on my toothbrush. I wiped off some of the blood (there wasn't much, which kind of worried me) and vinegar, steeled myself, then rubbed the wound hard with the toothbrush, that was the real pain to it all. Oh, there's all the blood I was wondering about. When it finally stopped bleeding, I looked at it and was proud. My first scarification; my first step from who I was into who I want to be.

There will be more scars on the way. I'm not through with showing the world who I am. I want people to know who I am. I need them to understand me. I need to do it for me as well. I have something in my mind that expresses me pictorially not verbally. People must understand me. Thank you very much for reading my experience.


submitted by: Anonymous
on: 13 Dec. 2001
in Scarification

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