peculiar experiences

Therapy blues

I haven’t been going to my weekly therapy appointments.  I just haven’t had the inclination to do the homework.

I’ve decided to go back, as if I have a choice.. but if I go back, I wish to find some inspiration for what I started writing here.  I don’t know if it will work out but it could, also, be a $10 miracle visit, too.  We’ll see how it goes.

I’m not sure who to trust when I’m mentally challenged. I don’t want a record. I just want a history to write. I want to be  writer and I think I have it in me to share my stories. I just get caught up in the nothingness of the everyday, as  a disabled woman holding down the couch, excessively.

I’m tired of the pain. I want it to stop. I think my doctors can do something more than they are doing. But I must be patient and do it all their way.  I’m not happy about that.

I guess I’m not in my write mind to find the memories to write about today.  Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

Enters Nazi Dentist from Hell

There was a very mean dentist on El Cajon Blvd that we could take the bus to. In my opinion, he NEVER should have treated children.

After my adult front tooth grew in cracked, with the bottom half missing (disintegrated inside the gum) I was abruptly told “that isn’t possible” multiple times.  I felt like saying “ok. then I’m a liar.” LOL

I think I was eight when I had my first root canal.  Looking at it on film now you can see what a botched job it was.  All of my other root canal’s are pristine..  the front tooth root canal looks like he just dug a bunch of tissue out of it and filled it in with filing material.

The root canal procedure was very painful and I cried while the dentist yelled at me to shut up and told me it didn’t hurt, through the whole thing.

Less than one week later, my face swelled up, around my nose, and I had a huge abscess where this root canal had been done.  My grandma took me to an oral surgeon, on the bus, and they cut open my mouth to remove gauze that had been left in the bottom of my root canal area.

After this horrible experience, I no longer had to go see Nazi dentist..  we found a wonderful new dentist, Michael Mahaffey, near Grandma’s house, in Linda Vista.  I saw Dr. Mahaffey for 14 years, until I moved away from San Diego.  One time, when I was supposed to be preparing for my senior pictures, he asked me about them and I told him there was no way I was taking them with the way my front tooth looked. It had been filled to resemble a real tooth but it was two different colors.

To my surprise, and out of his own pocket, before we finished my filling that day, he bonded the tooth, so it was all one color and I could schedule my senior photos.  He was *that* kind of man and I appreciated him.

After I left San Diego, I saw two other dentists. One in Florida and one in South Carolina.  I was very nervous and anxious and dentistry and I were not getting along real well. I had heard of people being sedated or given sedation type medication but when I asked I was always told no.  The front office would remind me to bring a driver when I was on *that* medication the doctor said I couldn’t have, though. That was disturbing.

So, I stopped going to the dentist for about one year.  And I cracked a back molar, on a simple piece of soft cereal.  Off to the office I went, with this emergency, to see the first available dentist.  That was the day I met Jason.  We are dental partners. He takes very good care of me.

A Challenge to My Balance

I’ve always felt that I’ve lived my life in a serious yet strange void.  Like driving on the interstate, in a section where only you reside.. the cars in front of you are a good distance, but together, and the cars behind you are in the same type group, together, yet a good distance behind you..  driving in your own void.

I’ve lived my entire life being some type of challenge, good or bad.  I was never one to “go with the flow.”  I just, usually, created my own  flow.  I didn’t fit in, so I made my own rules and my own games and my own non-reality for sanity. It has made me a difficult friend.  Or rather, I couldn’t find a friend that would be as equally devoted as I was willing to be.  It was how I learned that most people are selfish and think of their own #1 first.  I don’t.  I am okay with that most of the time.

I’ve always done the best that I could do, in the places that I could, and in the places that I couldn’t, I usually cried.  Seriously.  Cried.  I don’t find crying a bad thing, but I don’t find it easy to really cry, anymore, either.  Its easier to stay on the top of an emotion than to get buried into one, and have to climb out of it.  I guess that makes me too lazy to get too emotionally invested in myself.

This project to write my life story is a  huge challenge.  I’m not sure if I’m capable of writing it, but I’m going to just dig in one post at a time and see what comes out of my fingers. :) ~Heidi