Back in the Pit

I got my wisdom teeth out today. I have to say it went incredibly smoothly. Except for the part where I woke up in the middle of the procedure and freaked out a little bit. Mostly because they had my wrists velcro-ed to the chair. I don’t know when they did that. But waking up and not being able to move your hands? That’s scary. I can’t even hold that against them because in all honesty, I would have flailed. And that would have been not good for anybody. But during that brief time while I was awake, I felt everything, but didn’t. It was incredibly weird. I felt this pressure where he was getting the extraction done, and I could feel myself panicking. And trying to make words but being unable to because of all the activity going on in my mouth. I heard the surgeon tell someone to give me more gas.

I’m pretty sure after that I twilighted for a while. Because I remember more after that, during the procedure. Not much. More of the above. Not the panic, but the sensation. And mostly lack thereof.

It really wasn’t that bad.

I’ve been home for the past seven hours. Sam and I watched ‘Message in a Bottle’ with Kevin Costner. It was a pretty good movie. I got my gauze out, and I took my antibiotic. And my steroid – for the swelling. I still haven’t taken any of the painkillers they gave me. They gave me 15 Oxycontin with Acetaminophen. It may too soon to tell, but the Novocain has pretty much worn off at this point, and I really don’t need them. Things may change tomorrow. But I hope they don’t, because I am not a fan of painkillers. I’m hoping to spend the week knitting and I won’t be able to do that if I’m taking them.

Funny, Sam took today and tomorrow off and is going to spend the whole weekend ‘taking care of me.’ He’s been sleeping on the sofa pretty much since the move ended. I know he probably needs the sleep, but I’m glad I don’t need all that much looking after. lol

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The rest of the day has been absolute shit. The past few days have been wonderful for me, in terms of mood. But now I feel I’m right back where I started. I feel like I am the absolute scum of the universe. I don’t know why anybody wants to be friends with me. I don’t know why anybody would ever want to spend time with me. I feel like I am absolutely worthless. And there is nothing I can do to fix anything.

I feel like I’m building my mental health out of a house of cards, and then there is one thing. Be it big, small, forceful or unintentional. And it just collapses in on itself.

I wrote out this entire entry about what was really bothering me. Play by play. But it just made me feel like a shitty person for doing it. So I put it on private. I don’t know if I was trying to justify how I felt, or if I was trying to tell myself that this is how it is and trying to make myself believe it. Either way, writing it all out just made me feel like an awful person. Mostly because I wrote it. And some of the things I wrote… I don’t know if that is what I really think, or if I’m putting it down to perpetuate the awful feeling I have, or if I’m doing it to hurt someone else.

I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to even make the attempt to fix anything. I’m tired of being asked to give input, and then when I do I get called a shitty friend. And that I’m trying to take over everything. And I’m tired of having everything thrown back in my face in the worst way possible, then being told, "Well. I’m under a lot of stress and you’re not helping." I feel like there is nothing I can do. And I…give up.

A few of my friends wanted to celebrate my birthday with Knit Night next week. My birthday is a week from today. I cancelled on them. I can’t find it in me to celebrate myself when I don’t even know if I’m worthy of being liked. Let alone celebrate. I hit the bottom of the pit hard today. And I don’t know if i even want to get back up. It gets harder and harder each time. And I don’t even know who I can really talk to about anything anymore. And I feel like every time I break down, I’m one step closer to losing Sam. Because I can’t even talk to him about how I feel. Every day that passes, I feel like I’m one step further away from holding on to him.

And even though I am crying as I write this, I can’t say that I’m upset about losing him. I’m crying because I’m scared that I don’t feel anything when I think about that.

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I took a break to make some instant mashed potatoes.

I reread the top part of this entry and it reminded me of my 7th grade history class. We were assigned a creative writing piece, and we had to describe going to see a ‘person of medicine,’ in like… the 1500’s or some such time period. I remember my history teacher telling us that there was not always a thing called a ‘dentist.’ And when you needed help extracting teeth, or severing a limb due to gangrene or something equally horrific- you went to the person who had the tools necessary to get that job done. Which was usually a blacksmith. And this was long before the days of ‘sterile environments.’ (I don’t know if this is accurate. But it seems legit.)

I wrote about having to take a rotten tooth out. I wish I still had the paper, because it was truly disgusting. My teacher gave me an A+ for being descriptive and inducing the ‘heeby-jeebies.’ He also had to brush his teeth.

I’m not going to even attempt to write it out, because I don’t think I can do it proper justice. But I basically described going to local blacksmith, who had been taking his lunch in the shop that day. The narrator (it was first person) explained what the situation was, and was there anything that can be done to help. And the blacksmith told them to take a seat on the bench. The knife he had been using to cut the meat of his lunch was wiped on his grime covered pants. And when the blacksmith leaned in to jiggle the affected tooth, the narrator he could feel the grit and grime on the blade and smell the stomach churning stench of the blacksmith’s breath. I ended it with the taste of blood in the person’s mouth and them passing out from the pain.

It was two pages long of pretty disgusting imagery.

I have to say, I’m glad that dentistry has come a long way. Because if it hadn’t, I don’t think I would have ever gotten my wisdom teeth out.

ALW