When I walked into the rented mill I wasn't exactly sure what I was going to do. The convention was on the fourth floor of an abandoned old mill. The staircase wound around the wall of a tower in the center front of the building. Old, creaky wooden stairs that made you dizzy if you looked at them too long. Everything about the interior of the building screamed "Lost." And that's how I felt.
At A Glance Author Choronzon Contact kpoland@ealaw.com IAM choronzon When It just happened Artist SusCon Providence 2003 Studio Not as such. Location Olneyville. A section of Providence, RI.
I was going to the SusCon to meet someone just to pick up a tattoo machine that I had bought for my brother.
Okay, I'm backing up. Let's start at the beginning.
Two months ago when I found out the SusCon was going to be in Providence I ran to the bathroom and jerked off. Well, not exactly, but I may as well have. I was just super-fucking-psyched that a suspension team would be in Providence. So, I contacted Frank and made plans to be suspended. Yes, this would be my first time. Yes, I wanted to do a 2 point chest.
I guess in general people don't do 2 point chest for their first suspension, because a lot of good, experienced and knowledgeable people tried to talk me out of it. I was a total hard-on, and wouldn't heed their good advice. I had my heart set on the 2 point chest, convinced I could do it. After all, I know what my body is capable of.
I would like to point out that I pissed off some very good, helpful people because I was so determined to do this. I apologize whole-heartedly, and I got to meet the people that I wouldn't listen to at the SusCon, and hopefully they don't think I'm such an asshole anymore.
Well, what happened was they agreed to let me do the 2 point chest, but they washed their hands of responsibility. They would not give me their blessings. So be it. I'm a hard-on.
I walked into the door of the SusCon, and Frank greeted me with a handshake. Handsome man, he is. Anyway, I signed the waivers, etc. and went into the next room to pick up the tattoo machine. On my way in at least 3 people I have never seen before approached me and asked me if I was going to go through with the suspension. I told them I didn't know. I'm not exactly a sociable person. I try to be pleasant, but it's just hard sometimes.
I told myself if I completed the flesh removal on my back, then I wouldn't do the suspension. This is because the flesh removal takes so long to heal. Well, I completed the flesh removal 41 days before, and it was still covered in gauze and bleeding. So I really didn't think I was up to it.
After sitting around and watching people suspend, I began to want to do it, regardless of my back, or the warning of those more experienced than I. I have such good common sense.
I talked to Frank and Brian, who were the 2 who would help suspend me if I decided to go through with it. I was already there, wasn't sure when I'd get the chance to suspend again, and I figured I may as well at least feel how the hooks felt in my chest. I told them I was ready to be prepped.
First step was to find a good place to put the hooks. A place that would be comfortable enough, yet be able to catch enough flesh. Brian grabbed my tits for about 5 minutes and squeezed, saying, "How's this feel?"
"Oh, it feels GOOD, Brian." I think he liked grabbing my titties. They're a little saggy now since I stopped working out, so they got a little jiggle and give to them.
He made the markings with a toothpick and some ink, and had me lay down on the table for the piercings. Six gauge needles mounted on shark hooks. Fucking awesome.
I laid down on the table, and they smeared some crap on my chest that looked like sap. Probably some astringent or soap or lubricant or something.
Frank pinched my flesh and Brian did the piercings. My heart was beating fast as he put the first needle and hook in my chest. Immediately I calmed down. I forget how little it hurts to be pierced. Second needle and hook went in just as easy. My chest was pierced from the inside out, so the eyelets of the hooks were in the center of my chest.
I had to piss. Frank followed me to the bathroom.
I got back and began tugging on the hooks, getting a feel for it. Didn't hurt all that bad. Tugged harder.
I was standing under the rigging. It was already set.
I looked at Frank. "Am I ready?" I said.
They hooked up the hooks to the rig, centered and balanced it, and I asked if I could try to pull myself up. They said I could try, but I wouldn't be able to. I grabbed the rope, and understood why. The tension it creates on your chest forces your arms to your sides, so unless you can pull up your body weight with your wrists, you're out of luck. I asked Emrys to help me up. He stood in front of me and helped me pull.
We got some good tension on my chest, and someone said to stop. There wouldn't be enough space to get me off the ground. They had to cut and shorten the rope.
Fast forward.
Re-rigged up. The re-rigging took all of 45 seconds. These guys know what they're doing.
Emrys told me he was going to pull me up from the side, to make it easier. I nodded, "Okay."
He told me to tell him when to pull, when to stop, etc.
"Pull." He pulled. My skin stretched. Pain. "Stop."
I took a breath. Maybe a few. Got used to it. "Pull." ... "Stop."
I could feel I had a considerable amount of weight off my feet, but I was still on my heels. I bent my knees and put more weight on my chest. And more. "Pull."
He pulled. I wanted him to stop. And then, again. My whole body screamed at me. "Do NOT keep doing this." And my feet left the floor.
Saying words can't describe it is partially accurate. It's an incredible feeling. It's not a good feeling or a bad feeling. It's fucking intense. Physically and mentally demanding. Possibly one of the most demanding thing I've ever done.
And there was this: I felt alone. There were about 10 or 20 people right in the room, and I felt more alone than I've ever felt. The world melted away. Nothing mattered. I was there, alone, with my pain. Just me and my pain.
I realized I wasn't breathing, and I tried. I gasped. It felt like I had 500 pounds on my chest. I was breathing in short bursts, and I just wasn't sure how long I could keep up. I held my breath as long as I could, tried to breathe again. I turned to Emrys, "Okay, down." I mouthed. He lowered me slowly.
I'm not sure how long I was up for. 20 seconds? 30? A minute maybe? It didn't matter. The experience existed outside of a time frame.
I crouched down, got very hot. Frank asked if I was okay.
"Yes, just hot."
"Do you need anything? Orange juice?"
"That would be great, thanks." I guess I stayed crouched down like that staring through the floor for a minute or two, just absorbing.
When I felt grounded enough, I stood up, and they went through the process of taking the hooks out, and de-airing my chest.
I guess its important to mention that today a girl went up first time 4 point suicide, which I've been told is significantly easier than a 2 point chest, and she went into shock badly. I went against the advice of some good people, who knew what they were talking about, and I had a great experience. Listen to your body. Listen to those who have had more experience than you, but follow your gut.