It's funny to think that when I was younger I was TERRIFIED of pain. I would sob on the way to the doctor's office because I thought they may just decide today was "Shot Day". I never had a blood test because I would kick and scream at the mention of it. When I did end up having my first blood test at the age of 16, I still screamed and tried to escape from the office. That blood test changed my life. On that fateful day I was being diagnosed with bipolar disorder and blood was needed to rule out other diseases. As the needle entered my flesh, I felt my body release and the anxiety, fear, depression, and mania drained out of my body with the blood.
At A Glance Author Maggie Contact Maggie@bme.anon When Six months ago Artist Rain Studio Concrete Jungle Location Austin, TX Since that day, I have become a bit of a masochist. I crave pain in the form of body modification as a reward for accomplishments and as a healthy release for stress and anxiety in my life. Within 3 years of that blood test, I have acquired 12 piercings and a tattoo as well as a lengthy list of future modifications. However, this is all a setup for the story that I would actually like to tell, the story of what I like to call the "Worst Pain Ever" and my quest for stress relief through modification.
After three long years of high school we all began to see the light at the end of the tunnel – graduation. With graduation came turning 18 and with turning 18 came the chance get modified (at least that's how the state of Texas sees it.) As each of my friends turned 18 (or became too impatient and pierced themselves), there was much talk about piercing experiences and which mod hurt the most. The most common comment in these conversations was that getting your nipples pierced was the "Worst Pain Ever." I became so curious about this so-called "Worse Pain Ever" and decided this warranted an investigation. I asked around about people's experiences and received both first and secondhand accounts. The general consensus was that it either "hurt really really bad" or that it was, in fact, the "Worst Pain Ever" to get your nipples pierced. I was intrigued by this description. If small amounts of pain could release stress, what would this "Worst Pain Ever" do? I decided that I needed to add my experience to the stories I had collected.
The next weekend I called my piercer, Rain, and announced that "Today, we are going to pierce my right nipple!" Both would have been nice, but financial constraints only permitted the piercing of one nipple. Rain told me that sounded great and that I should come by sometime that afternoon.
My friend Grace and I arrived at Rain's studio, Concrete Jungle, around 3 pm. I began to fill out the paper work, a wave of anxiety suddenly washed over my body. Grace and I flipped through the tattoo artists' portfolios while Rain set up for the piercing. Finally, Rain called us into the room.
As I walked in, Rain's subtle New York accent demanded that I take off my shirt and asked which nipple we were going to pierce. I told her that the right nipple seemed to stick out more than the left. She agreed and explained that I had shallow nipples. Rain said that if the piercing was successful, that my nipple wouldn't be shallow anymore. While she is explaining all this, she is carefully measuring and marking dots for the piercing. Then, after marking and remarking forever, I was lying down on the table and Rain was coming straight at me with the clamps. Rain took just as long adjusting the clamps as she did marking me. Once the clamps were on, I began breathing deeply and preparing myself for the "Worst Pain Ever."
"Deep breath in...", Rain whispered calmly, "...deep breath out."
The needle passed through with only a slight sting and I didn't even feel Rain put in the jewelry. Grace asked why I had a frown on my face and all I could say was that it didn't hurt enough. Luckily for me, Grace spent the rest of the day trying to flick my nipple in hopes of inflicting more pain.
Four months later I noticed that my piercing had begun to reject. Rain promised to pierce it again, but mentioned that the scar tissue would make it make the second piercing more painful. I couldn't hide my excitement. Unfortunately, the second piercing was no different.
Despite my disappointment, I went home happy with a pierced nipple (that later decided to reject again). This whole experience just proves that pain is relative and, thus, my quest for the legendary "Worst Pain Ever" may never end. I've realized that each person has his or her own limits and version of the "Worst Pain Ever."