I did a very stupid thing the other day. Like, Tuesday must be the day of the brain dead or something. (That’s going to be punny in a minute.)
So, If you know me, you more than likely know that I am totally squeamish, and not good with blood at all. Like, I’d be the worlds worst vampire. Or vet, as evidenced by me throwing up that one time I had to look at an X-Ray of a cat skeleton.
Pretty much I failed the Girl Guides Animal First Aid Badge. If that’s even a thing. I’m pretty sure it’s a thing. That I failed.
Anyway. Me? I’m not great with gore.
Which is why it defies any kind of explanation that I’d read an interview with a woman who drilled a hole in her own skull. On purpose. Because she’s a fricking idiot – who then ran for parliament on the platform of drilling holes in peoples skulls for national health.
Anyway. I was curious, and you know what they say about curiosity: it leaves you sitting with your head between your knees in the bathroom at work hoping you don’t throw up on your own shoes.
I’m sitting there waiting for my contact to get into the office, and killing time on the internet. All of a sudden I’m following this awful black hole down the path of weird gore, trying to figure out what makes someone crazy enough to do this to themselves, then I realise that I’m reading an account of the ‘art’ film by this woman who took to her own skull with a dentist drill. Its claim to fame was that audiences fainted at the gory completion of her home surgery.
At which point I’m like, “You know what? I don’t need to know this level of detail. I wanted to know if she was crazy, and I think probably I can go ahead and draw my own conclusion without reading any more of this.” Then I had to walk to the bathroom without fainting, on jelly legs, and sit on the ground in a toilet stall with my head between my knees for fifteen minutes.
In case you are wondering what one thinks about for fifteen minutes sitting on the floor of a toilet stall, it’s pretty much just “DELETE DELETE DELETE DELETE DELETE” inter-spread with the occasional:
“Why did I just do that to myself.”
“This can’t be sanitary. These floors look clean but it’s still a bathroom.”