Let's talk about pain

Not emotional stuff, either, I think I've covered that plenty in the past month. No, this is the good kind. Physical pain. Not, like "danger danger, bones breaking" pain, either. I'm into it. (as if it wasn't already obvious by the many aftermarket holes I put in my body) I want to explore the whys, though.

I'm not just into piercings, but I like having my hair pulled, and other stuff too. Now, before I scare you off, this isn't purely sexual (though it does greatly enhance it, for me). I think it comes from being incredibly tactile. I love the feel of stuff. When I'm in the store, I can't keep my mitts off of interesting looking textures. I fight with myself not to reach out and touch that really fuzzy coat, that the guy on the train is wearing. When I'm really comfortable with someone, I'm always touching them, somehow, even if it's just to brush my hands over their arm, or something.

Everything's a sensation, and admittedly, I'm a sensation junkie. The more intense it is, the better. I love a good bracing icy shot of water, in the shower. Anything to mix it up a little. So, now that we know that, it sorta applies to pain, too. It's a sensation, right? I think the notion of "pain=bad" is a mental barrier that we're conditioned to. As long as it isn't physically dangerous, it's all sensation. I get this total thrill, when the tattoo needle hits my skin, and when the endorphins kick. I love centering myself, in those last deep breaths, before the needle punctures something, and then the split second of intensity, then the endorphins. (what I hate, though, is prolonged discomfort, like sitting in the tattoo chair for 4 hours, or when the piercer fiddles with the fresh jewelry, too long)

I was thinking hard on this recently, and why it's so important to me. It is, and I find it strange. I get fidgety if I haven't done something intense like that, in a while. It clears my head, and sets me straight. It grounds me, almost. Then, I thought about when I started it all. When I was 13, I would, in my long idle hours, brand myself. I would bend paper clips into shapes, and heat them by candle flame till they were good and hot, then I would burn little designs into my ankles, and high on my legs (where I could easily hide them). Other stuff too, which looking back, is pretty disturbing, cutting, etc. As I got more bold, I would pierce myself. I pierced almost everything once, when I was a teenager, with straight pins, or safety pins. I gave myself my first two tattoos, when I was 16, with a razor blade, and India ink. My mom discovered the first one, right after I did it, and forced me to scrub out the wound, with a brush. That one dissapeared, but to this day, I sport a rudimentary sword in a circle on my right thigh.

All of this was nonsexual, for the record, I didn't discover till relatively recently that the two can be combined, with good results. I never knew why I did any of that. Had anyone asked me, I'd have shrugged. I'm starting to realize why, maybe. That's the purpose of writing this, to give some form to my thoughts on the whole matter.

Those were lonely as hell years in my life. I had no one, really. I lived first, with my mom and stepdad, and without going into detail...it was a bad situation, there was no love in that house. Then, I moved to Guam, and while it was a stable, normal, civilized, loving, intelligent household, they're not real affectionate. I had friends, but no one to, like...touch. No one to hug, or sit close to. I was sorta isolated. I did some of my best scarification, when I lived there.

When I came back here, a little older, we would often spar with live steel, and get banged up really bad. My friends and I would regularly kick each other's asses, to the point of bruising, and leaving scars. I loved getting knocked around. The pain part didn't even figure in, it was all good fun, we were being 'hard'. (Even if being 'hard' landed some of us in the emergency room with stitches once in awhile...) At the time, it seemed perfectly normal and ok. I'm sure a psychologist would say differently...But, I got my sensations, I suppose.

I think that's what it's all about. My desperate need for sensation. I'm going through that again, though probably not as intense. I'm obsessing over getting tattooed and pierced. I've had thoughts about branding myself, again (no, I would never, I scar easily these days...). But, it all goes with this current weird lonlieness.

Plus, I had a short spell, recently, where I was getting all the sensation I could ever want, and now I'm not, and the contrast is all the more stark.

Let me clear one thing up. Discomfort is all it's own thing, and I hate it. Prolonged pain, that ouchy feeling when you sleep wrong, stubbing your toe, break a bone, etc, all discomfort. The good kind is sharp, intense, short lived, and comes with this clear, silvery feeling, that I can't adequately put into words.

[Listening to: Henry Lee - P. J. Harvey & Nick Cave - (0:-1)]