My teeth and I are not on very good terms.
After four awkward years of braces, I was required to wear a hideous glow-in-the-dark retainer. Tired of wires, metal and brackets, I went for months without putting the thing on. And then, out of guilt, I tried to start wearing it again. To my horror, it didn't fit. And this wasn't a "it's too snug" or an "it's bent" kind of fit, it was an "oh my god, how did my teeth shift so much?" fit.
That was seven years ago.
And now, I feel this odd tooth -- one of my front teeth -- in a place never I've never felt before. Of course I panic because I automatically think it's loose -- the stuff of nightmares. But, I guess my teeth are just shifting even more.
Adding to my mouth woes, I've been clenching my teeth at an alarming frequency. This was confirmed when, at my last dentist appointment, the hygienist pointed out the teeth imprints on my tongue.
I'm assuming that this is just another symptom of stress.
Yeah, what isn't? Even my attempts at de-stressing myself backfire in only a Mena sort of way. Tonight I decided that I would take a relaxing, candle-lit shower while Ben cooked dinner. After turning off the lights in the bathroom and getting into the shower, I started panicking that I would see some hideous face looking at me through the glass shower doors.
I don't know why I do it, but I always force myself into thinking of the most horrible thing that could be waiting for me around the corner, outside the window or under the bed. It's pleasure derived from fear. Or, maybe just fear derived from foolishness.
And then I wonder why I'm so stressed all the time.
What are you afraid of?
