All my teeth will eventually need to be fixed. I found I have three cracked teeth. I don’t grind them unless there is a painful crack that I feel pressure and apply pressure to relieve the pressure. I can’t stop either. That sounded like grinding but it’s an attempt at self soothing. Cracking them further. I can’t wear guards either. I barely sleep and a guard is felt and creates pools of saliva I choke on. I could drown in my own saliva? I can’t take something to sleep, I may never wake, or I may wonder around and do things asleep, or it won’t work and they will try to make me take more. I sleep enough to sustain my life but not enough to protect my teeth from cracking.
I might just lose them all. I will have no teeth. Maybe I will get new teeth. Maybe they will cooperate with my life. Set them right in my skull so they don’t hit each other when I talk, cracking them and opening them to decay. Once I was told to just talk less.
I have a misaligned jaw.
Once I went to a surgeon to make him break it and reset it. Countless weeks of drinking through a straw he said. Be proud of your stubborn jaw. Easy for him to say he has a perfect jaw and tanned skin from all the money he makes from people who are afraid of him.
I just can’t think of all the people who might die today. One by one they are being named and known to me. Someone for me to think about, her children now motherless, a brave person who fought cancer only to die from a virus. The numbers are growing, will they continue to do this? We will only be reading about people who died soon? There will be thousands. When will they stop? That next person who they stop at isn’t worth the story? Too many have gone to keep up? There isn’t enough time to report the hundreds? For me the shock value of hearing a large number not attached to personal lives and stories is easier than a tally and countdown of a population gone out of control. I can handle thousands gone but not one if I know she loved puppies and sunsets and desired to be a veterinarian.
It happens all the time. I’m sad. It is sad. It is also life. Death is life. Life is death. The grandeousness of finding that comfort is an overwhelming feeling in itself. Then why am I here? Why bother? What is there to live for if I’m going to die?
Change the question.
What is there to die for if you don’t live?
Make every moment count because they could end. Once I asked my therapist if a good deep cleansing belly breath is as good for you if you are thinking it could be your last one? She nodded in her therapist nod way when she seemed to ponder yet be confused yet totally see why I’m there. Breath in really great. It could be it. After about five I start to think I’m not going anywhere. Unless I check the news. Then the world is trying to make me afraid. Afraid to even leave my home. It’s cautioned yes. But I’m a sensible, mostly hygienic aware person who naturally demands social distancing. I have nothing to be afraid of because I’m already afraid of everything. Goodbye news.
Every time I open an email it’s headlined with a picture of this new virus, to me it looks like a kids toy my kids once played with, or a dog toy, yet it’s scary spiky clingy proteins are showing you how scary spiky protein it is. It’s been magnified to look like an asteroid. It’s the scariest image I know right now. I’ve unsubscribed from any email that doesn’t directly involve paying a bill or my kids schools. Now I check my email and get zero emails. Goodbye emails.
There are lot of new rules. I’ve lost my rhythm. I’ve slept in twice, missed bedtimes, googled dangerous unknown virus’s, written with a tablet and not by hand, had a glass of wine before bed. I’m out of whack.
I went to the store. I hadn’t for several days because there are too many people there. They want us to be not so close yet here they all are. They want us to not be afraid but all the shelves are empty of bread. Hundreds of loaves of bread bought in a day out of fear. People buying too many things was starting to make me feel like I needed more things. I looked in my cabinets, was 7 peanut butter jars enough? I have 6 boxes of pancake mix for some reason and 4 boxes of instant mashed potatoes? I naturally apparently prepare myself to need strange things. I don’t have a freezer even big enough for what I need for a week so I can’t buy 14 pounds of hamburger. I also can’t think of that many things to make with hamburger except 14 meals of hamburgers. I also might be too afraid at some point to eat hamburgers. Aware it was a cow once. It depends. They are putting restrictions on the amounts of some things. They have to make rules because there are so many who can’t make them for themselves. It’s the world now.
I took off to the woods with the only goal of getting muddy and soaking wet in the rain. My daughter is a small version of me and joined me. Bluebells are coming up, buds on trees are swelling, birds are all clustering and singing, life is still here. I borrowed theirs for a moment to gather what I felt lost again. I’m careful to tread lightly, unless splashing. Leave myself not there so they can feel safe to have their space too. A toad crossed our path once. On the man made pavement. He went back and forth confused it was not land. We helped him find his way to tall grass and wet ground. I’m sure his little toad mind wondered what kind of creature was going to eat him. I couldn’t, he looks too much like himself when cooked. He was safe.
There are books about making your bed. Actually I think one book plus maybe a kids book. I’ve never read it but it came up as a book I should read. I haven’t read it yet because I don’t want to read tons of books of how others gained control yet. I’m trying to find mine on my own. The title got my attention simply because it stated what I had already found. Someone else knows? Amazon knows me. I bought a book and it said, “you might also like these books on how to feel control when the world is not.” Make your bed. It’s simple. When I wake it looks like a tornado slept there. So I shake it all out and straighten it. Hide the chaos that ensued. No one will know. Make it to a perfect military manner and get mad when the cat lays in it and wrinkles it up before bed. Once it’s made no one is allowed to touch it. I have this all under control my bed is made. My dishes are done. My kids beds are made by them. There is order.
I need a new rhythm is all. A new cadence to march to. I wrote cadences in school for our drum line. I can make a new rhythm. Everything is less scary simply because I chose to not less anyone else make me be afraid.
I’m on borrowed time, borrowed land and need to take better care of my teeth. Be less afraid.
Aspenleaf 