30 December 2019.
10 years clean from Pill.
10 years of unraveling.
10 years of discovering who I am.
10 years it took until
30th December 2019. It had been a year of realising my bleed was more than just a monthly happening.
30th December my second bleed of the month. A bleed that was going to cross over a decade. This has to be documented right. I am an artist. This is what I do. I explore Shame. Could this be exquisite? So what do I do?
I meet my blood.
On that piece of fabric you had attempted to dye with leaves from the garden and it didn't quite work. Use that.
I grabbed the fabric and hung it over the one end of the shower.
What am I doing? Am I mad? Is this gross? What will Tim think? What will my friends think? What do I think?
I won't touch it. I will pour it in a little bowl and dilute it. Then pour it on the fabric.
I removed my Organicup.
Diluted the blood and poured.
I watched it drip down into the shower.
In that millisecond I felt all I felt that day the bubbles began. Intense shame. I felt all the stories of the women who have hidden their bleeds. Hidden their bleeds so as not to get pregnant. Hidden their bleeds to get the promotions. Hidden their bleeds to get the 'boy'. Hidden their bleeds. Hidden their bleeds. Hidden their bleeds.
I had hidden mine. I had hidden from mine.