I was at a Jesus Lizard show the other day and when a small mosh pit formed, I immediately had the urge to jump in it. Later, I realized that this wasn’t just because I enjoy shoving sweaty people around, but because I was secretly hoping that they would send me home with a souvenir – a big ass bulls-eye bruise, somewhere on my body. I love it when I get bruises and cuts, and will spend a significant amount of time just staring at them in fascination. Though I wasn’t successful at getting anyone to bruise me (I even tried to situate my arm somewhat close to the lead singer’s boot as he was crowd-surfing in hopes that he would give it a little kick), this did get me thinking: why am I so mesmerized by injury?
My first instinct is to label myself as a masochist, and to believe that something must be wrong with me for thinking this way, which is likely the result of society’s Freudian way of diagnosing and treating any behavior that might be considered deviant and not the societal norm as a "psychological illness." When I stare at my bruises and then hope to get more instead of covering them up, letting them heal, and trying to prevent getting new ones, many people probably see this as strange, perverse behavior that is the result of some underlying psychological issue. I automatically beat up on myself (no pun intended) for wanting to inflict “harm” on myself.
Is this really “harmful” though, or is it actually to my advantage to pause for a second, stare at an injury, and realize that I am, in fact, situated inside of a human body? When going through one of my typical, hectic days, I am rarely aware of my body at all. I put one foot in front of the other, but never stop to think about how that motion occurs until I twist my ankle on the sidewalk. After twisting my ankle, I am very aware that I inhabit my body because when I try to walk, it hurts. After the ankle heals, I slowly become unaware again of how my body enables me to walk from one place to another; I just move on instinct and assume that I will get from point A to point B with no problems. Maybe my fascination with bruises is healthy because it brings me back to awareness of my body, and helps me become mindful of my humanness. Maybe I am a little masochistic, but is there anything wrong with that? And who are the dictators of what is “wrong” anyway, psychiatrists who need to diagnose people in order to make a living? People who are replicating the ideas handed down to them by their Freudian psychiatrists and the media?
I know I’m not alone in the obsession with injury to one’s body. Just look at some of the most popular shows on primetime television right now, such as CSI and Grey’s Anatomy. Both are focused in on the human body, and more specifically, injury to it. So why are these shows so popular? Because people are fascinated by bodily injury. The images of the injuries in this show are getting gorier and gorier, and America’s television viewers are eating it right up. Apparently watching people’s bodies become injured or even mutilated is exciting for viewers. So if I’m masochistic because I adoringly gaze at my bruises, then American television viewers are becoming more and more sadistic. Is this considered sick, “wrong”, or “harmful” by society? Nope, just profitable.
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