I wrote this the night I made my first suspension. Here’s the translation.

It’s 8:58 PM and I have 20 fresh wounds on my body.

I’m exhausted physically and mentally in a way I cannot remember I’ve ever been before. It is frustrating because there are so many things I want to do and say, but also it is very soothing and I feel good about myself. Believe me when I say tonight I will have a deep sleep.
Eight hours ago I did my first suspension – a ritual I have been preparing for since I first witnessed a suicide-suspension four years ago. Few people understand the reasons behind such an act. For me there were several reasons as to why I wanted to suspend and most of them were derived from curiosity. I wanted to discover my own limits and my own abilities. The possibility to say ”I managed” after putting my body and mind in a situation that appears to be impossible to defy would be enough rewarding in itself. I also wanted to try flying. After listening to other people and their stories the part when they mentioned ”flying” or ”floating” I got very interesting. The idea of floating in the air have always appealed to me, probably since my infancy. I can remember having dreams where I am flying long before I could even form a thought of putting hooks in my body. It ha always been with me. The main reason, and probably the one reason most people can relate to, was the adrenaline and endorphins. Putting my body in such a strain surely would make my system react in a way it never had before. I wanted the rush so badly. I guess people that parachute, play poker or make goals in soccer have felt the same urge.

Now that it’s done I say this: I fucking nailed it!



In the same time I’d like to point out that the experience was very different from my expectations. The biggest difference of all was the pain level.

I did a ”coma” as my first ever suspension, named after its significant resamblence to a person in comatose. My body was positioned horizontally with hooks in my thighs, stomach and breast. I chose coma because I wanted to experience weightlessness lying on my back, as I always did in my dreams as a child, leaving my bed and was lifted to the sky. Coma is usually done with eight hooks or more. My choice was ten, and I left the lower part of the legs free from hooks because as my body was elevated my knees would bend and my feet would be the last part to leave ground. This way I could feel the lift more. Once my feet were airborne I would have made it.

The first step in a suspension is the cleansing. Step two is deciding hook placement and to mark the skin. Step three is the insertion of the hooks. This is the part where people start to gag and look away.

As I mentioned the biggest difference was the pain sensation. I was well aware that ten hooks were to be forcefully inserted in my body, each mantled with 5 mm sharp syringes and my pain threshold is not extremely high. To tell you the truth a pinch can bad enough.
The hooks were inserted in pairs. Inhale. Exhale. Thrust. Hooked.

The first wave of comfort came when I realized it didn’t hurt much. Or rather, I didn’t let it hurt me. It was so empowering to know that I could focus on me instead of my pain – that I wasn’t afraid if it but could control it. When I was on the bench with all ten hooks in my skin and with that awareness I knew I could make it and that it would be fantastic.

All hooks, ropes, grapples, knots and people were in position. My experience began. Slowly, slowly the rope that linked the hooks to the rig was pulled. Slowly, slowly my skin was stretched and my body was lifted. The overwhelming sensation washed over me like a breeze of divine air. What I had imagined to be incredibly painful was in reality just a pressure on my skin and a burning intensity that could not be described as pain but rather as a throbbing, intense feeling that I had never before felt. There was pain, probably a lot worse than anything I had withstood before, but I was in control of it and my focus never went away.

Right before I left the bench completely two thoughts arose in my head:

1. ”God, get me out of here! This is all too strange. Why am I even doing this?”

2. ”God, get me up there! The only thing stopping me now is the fear I have already conquered. This is astonishing!”

Here’s one of the greatest moments in my life. It is now that I take absolute control, command my body to defeat the pain, trauma, shock, energy, intensity and the gravity. I signaled with my hand, pointed my finger to the sky and went up… up… up… up…

When I was in the air there were three periods of immense, undescribable satisfaction. The first period was the minute after leaving the ground. My self-confidence peeked when I knew I had completed what I had dreamt of for so long. I had been so convinced this would be the greatest struggle of my life but when I confronted my fears I won so easily. I felt so strong! I was in the air, held up by ten hooks in the emptiness of space we call air, eyes shut and all the focus on me, my breathing, my thoughts and every single thing that defines me and the only clear separate thought I could create for myself was ”now I can do anything and win.”

The second period came a few minutes later. It hit so hard from every direction it felt fucking great. It was when I started to swing. The rushing adrenaline and endorphins pumping through my muscles gave me an even greater sensation than when I was lifted. It’s so hard for others to imagine because I can’t compare it with anything in the wold. Now there was nothing low in my life. No negation to anything. The duality of life was exceeded. There was only good. I saw a glimmer of everything beautiful and joyful in the world. All else did not matter. There was no pain, no obstacles. I had defeated them all. I was the greatest power in my life. I was the only source of energy strong enough to bring me to my goals. That experience told me that if I can control my fear there are no obstacles in life. For I can defeat them all.

The third period was the strongest physically. When they lowered me down to the bench again I felt how heavy my body was and how strong the forces of the world really are. The feeling when I landed was so peculiar and unlike any other. I still can’t decide if the pressure went away or if it escalated by enormous proportions. The whole world pressed against my body trying to break me down but instead the world collapsed because my core was too solid. I’m not saying that was what happened, I say that’s how it felt.

I was light and I was heavy. I was simple and I was complex. I was everything between the devil and God.

Now I don’t feel separate from most other individuals. In fact I can only see one fundamental difference that makes me a suspender and others not. When I see pain as something that I can surpass others see it as something to escape from. I refuse to escape from anything so trivial. I refuse to escape at all.

I used to believe that there are powers in this world too great for me. I have now ceased to believe.