Yesterday was a horrendous night. I cracked down for many reasons. I’m lying, just for 2 reasons, ok, maybe 3 but that’s all.
Monday, one root canal was performed. It went well, just the Dr kept me waiting for 30 minutes after he shot me the anesthesia (he said I’ll back in 15 min). He drilled the tooth, I was able to see everything on the reflection of that kind of binoculars (micro camera). I saw a big hole. He took some x-rays and pictures. Then, to seal the hole he put some cement….wait a minute. Cement? Not the final thing the dentist put? No, he put cement, later on I knew the I have to see Dr Marko to finish this procedure. Come on, I paid 900$ and he won’t finish the job? Not even in my country they do such a stupid procedure thing. But well, after I felt pain in my tooth that bothers me…I was crying of pain yesterday night. But not only that happened..something else pushed to my limit.
I spoke to person about how to meet girls or finding a potential girlfriend. She doesn’t know me at all, let’s say she’s kind of psychic and she said “you’ll meet somebody but pay attention, you jalousie will be a problem and you need to be loved is so high that cries out, also, be careful with your aggressiveness” . I was shocked when she said that. I was furious but why. Because she was right. Jealousy is a symptom of insecurity, I’m a insecure person, despite I thought I got solved all my problems. That was in the morning before my root canal. Of course I wasn’t concentrated, I just wanted my mind be distracted but how this could it be with a tooth pain?
I know somebody from Church and I knew she’d be in downtown. So I called her to meet. Eventually we did, she just made wait like 25 minutes and the parking police was walking around my spot…I didn’t want to pay parking because I’ve already paid at the Dr, 900$ plus 8$ at his office for parking, call me cheap, but I think I spent too much in just 2 hours and I’m not a shopaholic. When we met I talked to her about my dental pain, dental bill, loneliness and the coming back of my estrogen. I cracked…and I cried…it was too much. She asked me what kind of things I do for taking care of myself. I said “what’s that?”, she said “like buying things, got to a restaurant, do sports” Well, I didn’t know what to say about it. I said “buying things? I bought cd’s but I felt empty later, I got a tooth problem I cannot eat with pleasure, and it’s bloody cold to do some activities”. So, buying things or eating is something under the label to take care or got grounded?.Funny, the things I hate the most like buying and eating outside…ironic. But to be honest, the thing that put me really down, in tears, what’s the fact I’m alone, and meeting someone will take time…long time, plus, knowing my own insecurities…I could hurt somebody…I could hurt the person I love the most.
That afternoon I was feeling so crashed, so down, so blue, so Miss Estrogen…so vulnerable and so violent…so bloody violent, I wanted to punch somebody, I wanted to hit the wall, I wanted to kick the table but since I’m still recovering from my hysterectomy my movements are limited. And since pain in tooth is there, eating is not so pleasant, in fact, I lost my appetite, in consequence..I’m weak.
At night things got worse. I called my therapist, incredibly she answered the phone, thing she never does. I asked for therapy, it’s almost like 7 months I haven’t got one. I remember I’m allowed to 6 sessions (insurance) and last time there was 1 missing, that’s why I called her. She said she didn’t count the sessions, that it would be better to call to my company and have a new assessment and then I could have a session. I was a shock and then realized why she always have financial problems if you don’t count the sessions…come on, it’s the minimum thing to do. She said “I can give you the phone of the company” I said “It’s ok, no worries, have a nice day” She was in silence and then she said “What am I supposed to say?” I said “Good bye” and I laughed. My eager desire to speak out all the things I couldn’t say to my friend in the afternoon were just frozen. I got so down, so clueless, so …alone. But at some point I was glad she didn’t fix an appointment. Probably she would recommended some pills or just do something about my situation. Then I remember what I read in “Are you my mother?” by Alison Bechdel, she said therapy is just for things in short term, dealing with some issues, immediate problems. For the deep issues you need a psychoanalysis or something like that. In fact, my therapist is more counselling and couching.
At night, not only was cold, -30, but is was darker in all senses. The death angel came to visit me. I called my friend again because I was freaking out. I was so down, and she said I could imagine (and my therapist told me the same time ago).to imagine somebody is hugging me (like a real mother) and that it had a neurological effect proved of relaxing and comfort. At that moment I thought of my tooth, taking Ibuprofen to calm the pain, for short term, the real muscular pain will remain. I didn’t say it was bullshit her idea but I was closer. Then I said “If I point an imaginary gun to my head…that will have a neurological effect of relief of pain and loneliness”. I think at this point she was freaking out. She thought that I was totally suicidal. Well, the idea came and left quickly but I wasn’t that suicidal….probably a little bit but I just wanted to show her that her “neurological examples” were limited and relative. She said I had to loved myself, so that means…Do I hate me? If a suicidal idea shows up is just because I’m sick of pain (all senses) and I feel powerless…still, do I hate myself? I love enough for taking care of myself. I struggle Then I just took a Gravol and turn off my cell. The funny thing was in the morning I read an email from her giving me the Mental Illness Distress phone number and telling me to call if I was feeling lonely. I didn’t know if I had to laugh or just delete the email. When somebody seems blue in this country they give you a phone number to call, if you got a problem and need to see somebody you need to call an agency or simply look for some resources online. Friends, time to listen, to talk, to speak out…is not available in these times.
Years ago, a young kid committed suicide. His parents were members of the Unitarian Church in Montreal. They sent a letter that is read in the service. I was expecting something like “we didn’t have time to listen to our son, to talk to him, to be friends, to asking how he was doing” instead of that, in the letter they said “if you see somebody with visible symptoms of depression call this number….”. I got puzzle, no, no, I got scandalized. But those are the things are done in Canada…I got a number now…but…I think I’m going to hug my cat instead.