As I’ve gotten older, as possibly crazier, I’ve realized why I’m not meant to have children. I don’t think I could handle having them. I think the stress and anxiety would be too much for me to deal with and I’d probably break. I’m glad I can finally, and logically understand why I shouldn’t have children, and I’m kind of ok with it, because it is what it is, but I’m still not really ok with it.
Dentist, dun dun DUUNNN! One of the scariest words/things in the world. Sadly, I had to go to them last week. When I was a kid, I had a lot of dental work. I had braces, two types of retainers, and some weird bracket thing that my mom had to crank with a key to widen my mouth, not all in that order, and over the course of 6 or so years. The dentist we went to was actually pretty nice, but the orthodontist was a total asshole and he’s scarred me for life.
I stopped going when I was 16 because I didn’t need to anymore. 14 years later, my wisdom teeth had become abcessed and infected, and I was in excruciating pain. After popping ibuprofen and Tylenol for 6 months every 4 hours I finally made an appointment to have them removed. I found a dentist who, put me under general anesthesia and it was all over before I knew I had been put to sleep.
After a few years, I had to go back to have some cavities filled. By then I had gone for help with anxiety and had some ativan. That did nothing! When they gave me the numbing needles I had a panic attack and full-out bawled in the dentist chair. They were super nice about it, and when I had calmed they proceeded with their work.
Last week when I had my appointment to have another filling done, I was prepared for the panic. The days leading up to it were terrible. And the day of I took a Klonopin before I even left the house, knowing I’d need it. My pill kicked in and I was good to go. Once we got there however, it was like I didn’t take one at all. Panic kicked in and by the time I got in the chair and explained what was wrong, I was already crying.
After some x-rays and pictures the dentist showed up and told me I didn’t, in fact, need anything done! I was so relieved! Also, a bit annoyed that I went through all of that just to find out it was nothing. I’m hoping it will be another 16+ years before I step foot in there again.
I’m cranky, irritable, stubborn, and negative. I distance myself from people so I won’t get hurt. I’m not a happy, positive person. I don’t feel the need to talk to family. I’m not a touchy-feely person. I hate huggers. It takes a lot to impress me, and I find most things, that other people think are cool or funny, to be lame.
I know I’m not the daughter my mother wanted but she has my sister-in-law for that, and I’ve seen first hand that she’s the kind of daughter she wanted.
Finally routine is back. There’s no one around, and we have no obligations for the foreseeable future. Now if the heat would just cool down a bit and we could get some rain, everything would be great.
Three days was too long to go away. The first two days we were gone it was great. I was tired and didn’t want to do much, but my anxiety was down and I was feeling good. The third day was just terrible. I was so tired and worn out and anxious that I could barely get off the couch. There were too many people around and too much noise. Thankfully husband was there to steer everyone away from me and to give me some space and quiet time.
Now we’re home in our own space, where it’s clean and there’s no bugs crawling around, (I don’t understand how people can live like that), I’m doing a bit better. Except for now we have husband’s brother and family in town, and two family dinners scheduled for today and tomorrow. I really want to see the kids, but I really don’t know if I’m going to be able to do it. I hate that this happens. Especially since I had been doing so well before we went away.
I hate summer! It’s hot and sticky, I can’t use my kitchen because we don’t have a/c. This year is especially bad. It’s been 30+ for the last two weeks and it’s supposed to be almost 40 this weekend. Our house doesn’t cool off at night either. Thankfully if I open both the front and back door, and stick a fan in front of the front door in the morning, I can get the house down to 23. The kitchen is unbearable though. Looks like this summer we’ll be living off of sandwiches and salads. And takeout.
I grew up in a very religious household. Church every sunday, prayers before every meal and bedtime. Along with that came no celebrating Halloween. But that didn’t happen until I was around 8 years old. I remember having Halloween parties when I was really little, and trick or treating in costumes, and having normal kid fun. But then we suddenly weren’t allowed to celebrate Halloween because it was evil. We would be taken out of school, so as not to be subjected to the evil, that is going door to door, asking for candy.
One year, I remember the parents from my mom’s church (I would never consider it mine because I hated it and hated going) getting all crazy and having a big prayer circle, or whatever you call it, on Halloween night. It’s like they thought hell was going to open up, and spit out everything there was, into our little corner of the world.
I don’t really get why they got so crazy. Maybe it was all the rumors of razor blades and such in candy, after all, it was the 80’s. All I know is I thought, and still think it’s ridiculous. There’s nothing evil about Halloween. Or dressing up in costume. Or trick or treating! It’s fun, and I personally think depriving your kids of that is so not ok.