The Masochist in Me (midterms)

The worst pain I've ever felt was not the time when my appendix ruptured but when I was tattooed.

Have you imagined yourself being pricked by a needle for a thousand times in a span of an hour or two? Well, I never imagined that I would experience that pain, not at my young age.

I love drawing since I was 4 but i never drew well. I just drew what I wanted, what I imagined. Those crooked lines turning into a see through house where you can see all the parts of the house. A weird-looking girl with a very long hair and very big eyes and an overdecorated dress just like a princess. Those were my typical drawings (and everyone else when they were kids). I started hating it when I went to high school. It was such a pain in the a** when a teacher asks us to draw something. I never even included crayons or any coloring material in my "Things-To-Buy-For-School" list. I can still remember when I melted all my brother's crayons and turned it into a colorful and deformed candle-like thing. I felt happier that when I tried drawing my sister's face. But I really felt too jealous whenever I saw my classmates' "ultra mega colorful drawings". That time, I was asking myself, "Am I the worst artist in class? Why do they put too much effort in it?". And so I hated drawing.

Things changed when I went to college. I thought drawing wouldn't be a very big deal for me but I was wrong. I suddenly got a total motivation from a very unexpected person.

March 2011, one of our major subjects asked us to conduct an interview to anyone we know. It was like creating your own TV show wherein you'll be showcasing an individual depending on your topic. And all I got in mind was TATTOO. I tried searching for local tattooists here in Batangas and luckily I was able to contact one, Mr. Dholan Marqueses of Exotic Ink.. I knew his shop ever since but I never had the guts to inquire about it until I had this opportunity to meet him personally in his shop. It was such a nice experience. I saw, for the first time, how tattooing was done and everything else about it. A sudden interest popped in my head and I was like, " Hey, I want to learn this stuff! I want to have one!". But I thought, it was too impossible. I hated drawing though I draw for my friends most of the times.But one of my very talkative classmate told him that I as good in drawing. I felt flattered of course but I never bragged about it. I really think I am an awful artist. I felt a sudden adrenaline rush when he said that he can teach me how to draw better and even tattooing. I was telling myself, "This is it! I'm gonna be a real tattooist!". That day, my passion for drawing rekindled similar to hell. Right then i started going to his shop every after classes though it's too far and I have to spend more that what I was suppose to spend. But it was all worth it because I can really see all the improvements in me. I never imagined that i would be able to draw anything that great. It's flattering whenever they introduce me to they customers or friends saying that I am a very good artist. And then I thought I should get one (tattoo). 

Then it was this typical day, I went to the shop after school. I grabbed my materials, pencils and my sketch pad and started drawing. I felt a bit bored so I stopped. For some weeks, Sir Dholan  together with another artist Valawiz was telling me that they wanted to ink my skin. I was hesitant, of course. I know my parents would get mad if they knew it. But that day was different, I suddenly thought of actually getting one because I can feel their boredom. There was no customer and they had nothing to do. So I volunteered myself to be their canvas. I felt nervous at first but I was already there and they were already preparing the materials. "No pain, no gain." I guess I really have to endure the pain just to see what a tattoo would look like on my so imperfect skin and besides, it’s for free. Then I heard the raging sound of the machine. The needle was already a few inches away from my skin and there I was, freezing to death because I was facing the mall's AC. The first cut was the most painful. It was like I was pricked by a thousand needles in just a second. All I could do was close my eyes, bite my lips or finger and hug the chair. it was painful yet there was this strange feeling. It was like a tingling sensation on my back. The more I think about the sensation, the less I feel the pain. It was as if my back got numbed due to the needles. I felt a bit proud when I saw the passers-by looking at me and saying, "Yung babae oh, nagpapa-tattoo." The pain was all worth it because I felt that I was a different person after the session. 

After having my first tattoo, I just felt the urge of getting another one. They were right, tattoos are addictive and I can already feel my hunger for ink. A month after, Sir Dholan called me and said that he wanted to redo my tattoo because he wanted it to look clean. He was just not satisfied with Valawiz’ work maybe. So I went to the shop that weekend. I can really feel the excitement in my bones knowing that I’m getting inked for the second time. My body was hungry of the pain and so I fed it with the ink. The pain was there for over an hour but I wasn’t nervous anymore. I know that the pain is endurable though I am just a girl. And feeling the pain for the second time is just the same as the first. I felt so proud of myself once again.

I was so proud of my tattoo though it’s just small. I would always want to wear shirts that would show the tattoo on my back. It was fun but the only problem was that my family doesn’t know anything about it. I don’t even want to show it to them because they would surely get mad at me. Of course, we all know that only few people think that tattoo is an art and most of the population would say that tattoo is just dirt on the skin. And my mom and dad surely think tattoo is dirt. So I tried hiding it to them by wearing round neck shirts at home. The hiding thing was successful for four months until I got hospitalized.

It was because of that futile organ, appendix, I was confined in the hospital for five days. The first day was just a series of test. But they were painful tests. They tested my blood, my insides, and my urine, almost everything in me. But I didn’t consider that as the problem. My problem was, “How am I going to change clothes? I need my mom’s help of course, but she would see my tattoo. What should I do??” I was already going gaga thinking about it. And then the time came. My mom said I should change clothes. I was hesitant but I really need to, or else I would stink. Plan A : untie my long hair so it would cover my back. The plan worked and she didn’t notice the tattoo. But then she suddenly put powder on my back and she saw my tattoo. I tried covering it with my hand but it was too late. I thought she would get mad at me but I was wrong. She just said, “Lagot ka sa tatay mo.” I felt relieved. At least my mom knows about it already. The only problem now is my dad and he is coming home this September. But I should remain calm. (Laughs) That’s the least I can do. The following day I got operated because of mu ruptured appendix. I was so nervous and I just kept on telling myself, “Hindi masakit. Mas masakit ang tattoo.” During the operation, I was liked overdosed with some kind of drug. It was the anesthesia that made me feel numb. I thought what if operations like this are just the same as the tattooing process, no anesthesia. That would be too morbid! Ha-ha! If I was able to endure the pain in tattoo, maybe I could also endure the pain in the real operation without anesthesia. *heck, I’m just kidding*

The week after the operation was the worst. Our TV was broken and my laptop wasn’t with me. My life at home was so dead. So I just thought of pulling some used papers from my sister’s drawer and try drawing something.  I started drawing again after almost two months of resting from it. It looked terrible. My hand didn’t cooperate well. I was back to the “worst artist” feeling again. I’m starting to miss the shop, the sound of the machine, the drawings and everything about tattoo. I felt the hunger for the ink once again and I thought it would be the best time to have another one. I was thinking of where to put the other one when I remembered my greatest problem: I cannot wear shorts because of the dark scar on my left leg. So I thought, I should have a tattoo on my left leg to cover the scars. And what a very good timing, my friend, Valawiz, told me that he’ll ink me for a very low price. I didn’t hesitate anymore and I agreed on it right away. I was ready to feel the pain once again.

It was two weeks after my operation and I managed to escape from our house to my boarding house so I could come over to Valawiz’ house. He’ll be doing the tattoo there. I was with a friend. I was so excited and I never thought of the pain. He started. I was a bit startled because the pain I felt was worse than the first and second time I had. It was as if he was drilling my bones with nails. The pain was extremely killing me. It was as if I was undergoing an operation without anesthesia. I wanted him to stop but he can’t. I just tried enduring the pain. I tried the “mind over matter thing” and it did work for a little while but it still hurts. The session lasted for two hours and my leg was totally swelling. After the session I had a hard time standing and walking. My leg was too heavy. I looked at my leg’s reflection in the mirror and it was awesome. I just didn’t mind the pain. I was mesmerized by the sight of my new tattoo. The pain was all worth it.

Now I am on the process of healing, the wound from my operation and my tattoo. I suddenly feel so stupid right now. I got hospitalized to remove the pain in my tummy but here I am seeking the pain from something else, tattoos. I guess the pains differ depending on where it comes from. The pain from a health condition is something you wouldn’t ask for more. But the pain from a work of art is something worthy to be felt. There’s this sense of satisfaction and pride. And when you have it you establish some sort of identity in your society. 

Tell me I am a masochist, tell me I am a rebel but it won't change a thing. There are really pains in life that are addictive.