Damn do I not feel like blogging right now.
Anyhow, lost a tooth. It was rotted clean through, to the point where technically, I only lost half a tooth.
I now have a fourth gap where a tooth used to be. Two above, two below.
This is not a surprise. I never brush my teeth. Haven’t since I became depressed after my parents took me out of school.
Depression ate that habit pretty much right away.
My breath is quite atrocious as a result.
Of course, the problem would be a lot worse if I ate sugar. So I at least have that.
Still, the main symptom of its loss is depression. Yet another reminder of what a disgusting and wretched pile of disease and neglect I am.
And speaking of disgusting, I find it oddly soothing and pleasant to hold the tooth fragment in my hand and roll it around a little in my fingers.
So much so that I have grown emotionally attached to it, and grow panicky when I don’t know where it is.
And I got no idea what the fuck that is about. Some weird instinct making an appearance, I suppose.
Something to do with grooming, maybe? Who knows.
I know my dental health is atrocious. Makes me way too ashamed to go to the dentist.
Not a lot they can do anyhow. The province doesn’t pay for much in the way of elective dentistry – meaning anything that doesn’t end pain or protect physical health.
Some day, I will be able to afford to get everything fixed, hopefully including all the stuff my parents refused to pay for when I was a kid.
Would be nice to know what having healthy teeth is like before I die.
Hey, if you’re going to dream, dream big, right?
A picture is worth a thousand eeks
You should be glad /i seem to have misplaced my part-tooth for now because I was going to show you a picture of it.
Not because I thought you wanted to see – trust me, you don’t, it’s gross – but because I want to keep reminding myself that I can do things like that now that I have my webcam,
Speaking of which, let’s talk about this little webcam of mine and how it’s been lurking there largely unused for months.
And I do mean lurking – ever since I established that I could, indeed, make videos with my webcam, aversion stepped it and made it damn near impossible for me to do so.
Because, you see, now it was something I should do. As in, I really should start making all those videos I planned to make. I should be working hard at forging a new life as a YouTuber. I should be taking advantage of this awesome opportunity to finally really express myself artistically in a way that might even lead to success.
Should, should, should. I don’r respond well to that word. That word is, in fact, toxic to me because inherent in every “should” is an extrinsic call for action.
And so I respond to “shoulds” like I respond to anything that seems like it’s trying to pull me out of my tiny little hidey hole : I close up like a barnacle and cling tenaciously to my rock until the scary thing goes away and leaves me alone.
And it matters not one whit if the “scary thing” is actually something good that would really help me and make my life a whole lot better.
This is not an act of reason. This is instinct. Clinging and covering and withdrawing – call them the Barnacle Response – is my default gut level reaction to absolutely anything that threatens to take me out of my barnacle shell of safety, and that very much includes my own drives and desires.
I resist everything, especially myself.
Because that is how life programmed me. On the deepest level, I feel that the only safety lies in hiding and not moving and above all not being noticed, and like a lot of traumatized people, safety is more important than anything to me.
More important that happiness, even.
So until I can talk that part of me down out of its tree by convincing him that it is now safe to let go and come down, I will keep getting nowhere in life.
AND YET, on the other tendril, putting it that way – that it’s do X or be miserable – turns it into yet another way for my depression to torture me.
Because my depression doesn’t hear “if you do this, you will be happier” and think, “Oh great! There is a way our of this mess! Let’s go do that now!”.
It hears “if you do this, you will be happier” and says “Hear that? UNLESS you do that, you will keep suffering because you SUCK, and we both know you will never do that, so that means you will suck and it will ALL BE YOUR FAULT”.
The worst bullies are the ones inside your head.
So the question as always comes back to how to successfully motivate myself.
It’s clear that my internalized bullying doesn’t fucking work. The question is, then, is there anything that will work?
Or maybe that’s the wrong question entirely. Maybe even framing the question like that makes it all too easy for my depression to kill every possible positive response.
It can do that shit without even getting out of bed.
The answer has to be something more internal and intrinsic. Something that doesn’t involve my diseased reason at all. Something that operates well below the reach of my big bad brain. Something that is impossible to do consciously.
Something that my rational mind can’t even imagine.
But if I can’t dream it first, how can I do it?
To be honest, I don’t know. But for obvious reasons, that’s my rational mind walking. Of course it doesn’t know. If it did, it would fuck it up.
So no, I have no idea how I am going to do it.
But I am.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.