Eye gouge and a needle to top it off
Ever since I was 14, maybe 13, I've wanted my anti-eyebrow done. However, an traumatizing experience, some may find hard to believe, happened to me when I was 12 years old stopped me from wanting anything sharp remotely near my face. My eye was gouged from it's socket by a typical house cat. I have the scars to prove it. I was rushed to the hospital and transferred to a big city hospital an hour away and worked on for 8 hours to save my eye and most of the skin around it. I have my vision back, but a terrible phobia of anything coming close to my eye, and of all things I want my anti-eyebrow? At 19 I knew if I wanted it done I would have to get over my fear. To me, my standard eyebrow seemed slightly less frightening since it wasn't directly in my vision. One day while staying at my grandmothers I mustered the courage to go to Chris, who knew the story of my eye- and just about everything else from going to him many times before- without my husband to ridicule me. My uncle rode with me for support. When I told Chris he had a look on his face like "...Okay...." it probably came to him as a surprise. Someone that I knew from high school was getting their tattoo worked on and I had to wait just a few minutes, but in those few minutes I tried to think of something else. I knew what kind of needle was supposed to be used, the procedure, and the jewelry, but every time it came to mind, my head started spinning, my vision went blurry, and their voices became an echo. Finally Chris said, "ok, let's do this." I sat in the same chair I always do in the same spot as usual. The three of us talked for a while and he explained to the acquaintance why exactly "I was so white I looked dead" and the guy handed me his stress balls to squeeze that he used while being tattooed. As Chris searched for the right piece of jewelry, which seemed to take all day when it was in reality only a few moments, I became faint and thought "oh no, I'm going to be just like that girl that was in here last week who passed out" "Chris I need to lay down" I said taking a deep breath. I'm usually a customer who comes in, gets it done, BS' for about an hour, pays and leaves, but this time was different. Every time I thought of that needle coming centimeters from my eye, I had to stop myself from walking out. Chris and the acquaintance shifted the table over into the light for me to lay down. "Here" I said handing him the stress relievers "You can have your balls back." I
began asking Chris questions about the piercing I already had the answer for. Then I asked the one question that never in my life came from my mouth. "How bad is this going to hurt?" "It'll just be a pinch." A 'pinch', right, when Chris says a 'pinch' he means "don't bite your tongue when you scream." at least that's what I made it out to be.
My legs began shaking and I closed my eyes tight. "Do you wanna, like, hold my hand or something?" The guy asked, seeing "fear" written all over me. Inside I was screaming YES! GIVE ME YOUR HAND AND I'LL RIP YOUR ARM OUT OF SOCKET JUST LIKE I DID MY HUSBAND WHEN GIVING BIRTH!" "No, I'm good." I replied. Chris was patient with me and let me gather myself. I told him I was ready, though I really wasn't. The next thing I know there was a pinch, of the clamp I figured, and a slight pull. I dared to open my right eye, the good eye, the unscarred eye, the eye without the needle near it, to see Chris going over to the sterilization bottle and putting some on a cotton square to wipe off my eye. "That's it?" I asked. "Yep, all done." I felt so stupid for expecting more pain, for expecting more emotional trauma that I did, but no, that was it. "Cool." was all I could say. I held back a nervous laugh, or maybe a laugh of utter relief, as I jumped from the table and went to my purse. I
handed him the money and, as rude and out of character it was for me, I paid him, shook his hand, and left right away.
The whole way down the hall way I expected to pass out thinking "okay, is this when I go down?" "now?" But no, I was fine. All the way out the door and to my uncle's van. "Is that what you wanted?" He asked, scrutinizing it, not even believing himself that I had the gull to do it. "Yep!" I said proudly. Then I let out a bellow of a laugh, thinking I really went through with it all. I started the van towards my grandmothers and now the only fear in mind would be her asking one of two things "What took you two so long at Wal-mart?" or "What else did you put on your face?!" Well, I don't know if I'm absolutely over my fear of things near my eye, but I do know that I'm going back to see Chris after Christmas for my anti-eyebrow. This time I think I can handle the chair like a big girl again.
submitted by: ZeeGrimReaper
on: 29 Dec. 2009
in Eyebrow Piercing