I am an absolute sucker for body art and body modifications, it drives my parents up the wall, but I have always been somewhat of a fetishist when it came to body art. It's a lot better than stoning or causing yourself pain atleast. I got my first set of piercings on the lobe like a good little girl when I was barely a couple of months old. The thought of a whole bunch of accessories never really fascinated me as a child but as I grew, I had this desire to wear a nose stud and a navel ring. Not because of anything else, but because it'd make me feel good.
So I think I was about 14 years old when I woke up one morning and said to myself, "Fuck it, no more contemplating, I will get my navel pierced today!" and so I called up my friend, convinced him to take me and just went ahead and did it. That was what I was like as a kid-wild, impulsive, random and crazy. Be it stoning in school, dying my hair blue, randomly collecting money on the road by ambushing strangers to feed street dogs or trying to jump off from the terrace etc-that was who I was.Three years back, I was wild and carefree and I was myself. I'm just like a domesticated housewife now. This has nothing to do with my guy though, he's not the one binding me to a seemingly average lifestyle, au contraire, he likes the wild streak that I have in me. It's me who is doing this to myself.
I don't think this is about growing up, it's more of making compromises for society. But I have compromised to the point where I am starting to not recognize who I am.
This was never me. This is NOT me. I am not this weak and fragile. I didn't cry the day my favourite kitten died, that too in my arms. I didn't cry when my aunt passed away because of cancer. I didn't cry when my very best friends in school ditched me just because I got nominated as School Captain and they didn't.Heck, I didn't cry the day he raped me. So why now?
It makes me feel so stupid when I even think about it. Here I am, taking pride in being so strong mentally, but breaking down because of such incredibly foolish reasons.
But anyway, this post was not meant to be one where I wallow in self-pity. So I'd better put a lid on it. The primary reason why I started to get piercings was because I promised myself that I'd never cut myself again. Though I have failed to live up to it at times, I have kept my promise more or less.
If you're in pain, take up an instrument, join an activity club, write, paint, tell people about it, blog, take a walk, get a tattoo if it's that bad (though I wouldn't quite recommend it cause the shit is permanent and it's not very wise to get a tattoo just for the sake of it, without it being of any significance to you!). If the pain really gets to you, then seek help. Therapy really does help. But cutting yourself is just useless. You think it'd make you feel better, but honey it doesn't. It never can. It just makes you feel worse at the end of the day.
If you're a cutter, then don't be ashamed to admit it. Seek help, either from someone else or from within. If you want, you can come out of it completely, if I can..I think you can too. After all, we're just average human beings, none of us are superheroes!
