The Summer of 2015, Part 2: The Struggle

I am a privileged man, born into and raised by warm, loving, caring and accepting parents who created a stable nuclear family with no major dysfunctions. I am socially, materially and financially comfortable with a job I love. I don't suffer from any health issues or conditions that incapacitate me or require lifelong treatment. I have never starved, never been abused and never beaten. What do I have to complain about?

The answer is obvious, nothing really because I am most certainly among the 5% of the world's population who are best off. So I am aware that there are billions upon billions who are worse off if we were comparing or in a suffering contest. But we aren't, are we?

Just writing this post makes me feel petulant, childish and prissy, so please bear with me. With all my fortunate situation, I have still not been happy this whole horrible year.

I hate death!

Death means someone I love leaves. And not only that they leave me. Being left makes me very angry. I have never learned how to relate to that in a good way.

So my father died in January and my mother went sort of crazy for a while after that. I haven't grieved my father's death properly yet. I haven't shed a tear yet, instead I have been sort of balancing and "coping". Whether this lack of reaction is due to my antidepressants or not, I cannot say.

The reaction I have had instead is fatigue and tenseness and being antisocial. I am so tense that I actually gnawed through two perfectly healthy teeth and a tooth implant in my sleep. Now it seems, I may have damaged another one despite the fact that I now have a tooth guard. The fatigue and anti-socialness leads to me withdrawing from the company of almost everyone, except those who are closest to me.

Although the worst bit seems to be over now, there is still a way to go. And I will make it, thanks to myself, my Tomais and my friends in first life and in SecondLife. 

Strange Nightmare

Matt Damon's A1+ Quality smile

Tonight I had the strangest nightmare, which made me wake up with a scream. I dreamed that I felt something logged in my left cheek. When I pulled it out and looked at it I saw it was a partial denture for the four lower front teeth. I wondered who they belonged to, but as I was thinking about that my tongue felt a big gaping hole in the front of my lower jaw. When I tried the dentures they fit right into the hole. That's when I wake up, sitting up in by bed with a scream.

The thing is that, through a fluke of nature, I am the only one in my immediate family that has excellent teeth. Other than having the two upper wisdom teeth extracted, because they were growing crookedly, and succeeding in splitting a lower teeth while biting into a pebble in some badly cleaned rice, the rest of my teeth are immaculate. Unlike my parents and sisters I have always looked forward to my visits with my dentist and dental hygienist and I go there with joyful steps.

Despite my great teeth I have had a recurring nightmare since childhood. In the nightmare I am walking down a flight of stairs when I trip and fall. In the fall I manage to get all my front teeth knocked out.

The new nightmare seems to be a variation to the old familiar one, but after the fact of the fall instead of during it. I don't like it all and don't understand it.