(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)
I went for a walk today. I thought about the next blog for this true story series. I am planning to write about the long car ride back to New Brunswick from Quebec before this seemingly impulsive interlude. It is a car ride most certainly worthy of journeying along. It is well worth your read. If not to help you with your own lightbulb moments, for entertainment at least. Especially if you have been reading along on my torred love affair thus far.
Writing the car ride experience is also invaluable for my continued healing journey. With that said, today I must listen to my spirit so that I can keep my little girl ego inside of me at rest.
It is highly important to check in with all aspects of your ego stages. When an aspect of me requires my attention, I let her speak so that her discomfort can feel heard.
With that in mind, my teeth are falling out due to a terrible infection I obtained back in the year 2022, whilst I was living with Rosie. My two top, four front teeth, are capped due to a cavity I had gotten back in 2015. My ex, Bill, had me on his benefits for two years preceding our physical separation from one another in 2013. He removed me from them some time later that same year. I think he did anyway, because neither my eldest daughter, nor I, were blessed with any medical nor dental from his benefits after that.When Liv had asked him to help her with her teeth he responded with something along the lines of “go get a job”, from what I understand.
I took full advantage of Bill’s benefits after our separation in 2013. Beautiful teeth have always been important to me. The dentist recommended I cap the two middle teeth to get rid of the cavity. Along with the teeth at either side of them. Both those teeth were slightly crooked and protruding in front of my two middle teeth. The dentist thought they would look nice all in perfect alignment together. I agreed to the procedure. I’m glad I did. My teeth did look beautiful for the longest time.
With that said, the dentist had to shave down my teeth in order to spike them for the caps. After I broke the tooth with the literal taco Rosie served me, I contracted an infection. The infection that took over my mouth has been rotting my teeth underneath the surface, and is still currently affecting my jaw, and speech to this day. I have had a toothache since 2022. Like I said, I have a high tolerance for pain on all levels. I know that. Thank goodness my little girl ego no longer desires me to prove it. I can rest from carrying so much pain of others alongside my own.
We were sitting at the dining room table eating tacos Rosie had made. Rosie did most of the cooking. I rarely cooked. Both his mother and he made secret judgments and joked about my cooking when I did put in the effort. They thought my cooking was meh at best. Rosie’s mother was also the proud chef of the family. Rightfully so. She is a beautiful Haitian cook. I did thoroughly enjoy her food. I hadn’t tasted harian food before meeting Rosie’s mum. She definitely knew what she was doing.
I also knew of the secret criticisms both Rosie and his mother projected toward me energetically. They didn’t know I knew. I read energy around me constantly. I still do on a regular basis. It comes natural to me. I keep my observations to myself most of the time. Due to the energy I was reading from them, I became self conscious over my cooking.
I still rarely cook even now. I remember back in the day, my children and their friends use to swarm around my house at dinner time. Especially when I made Sheppard’s pie. I would always make enough for leftovers and yet, there was rarely any leftovers to be had. I loved that.
I also loved being called “Momma C” by all of my children’s friends. They were all treated, and welcomed in my home as if they were my own children. As mentioned, I have a soft spot for all young people, big and small. It’s amazing how confidence can plummet quickly after it’s been chipped away at by the people around you. My zest for cooking isn’t the same now as apposed to back then.
Whilst we were all sitting around the table talking about the kids’ day at school, I bit into the taco Rosie served me, only to end up with half my tooth in my hand. It was incredibly embarrassing. The kids, seated to my right, and straight ahead of me, looked straight at me, then their dad, with a look of “what do we say?”. Rosie was standing to my left, beside me, with a look of disgust. I was there holding my broken tooth in my hand in complete disbelief of my luck. I looked at him and said “oh no. My tooth broke.”
I was blessed, or cursed, depending on how you look at it, with soft teeth. Both my children deal with the same issue. It seems it is hereditary. There may be some truth to English people having a predisposition for challenging teeth. I didn’t want Rosie to see that. He had already made fun of his ex, Gemma, behind her back about her teeth condition at that point in time.
I didn’t have much of a choice. It wasn’t like the man was blind. Spiritually blind, maybe. Physically blind, not so much. I relinquished the rest of my meal. I gave it to the kids to share. Then proceeded to distractedly listen to the conversation between Rosie and his kids whilst they ate. I wasn’t able to eat, nor did I want to eat. Out of fear of breaking off more of my tooth.
My tooth wasn’t brought up in conversation again after that. Rosie didn’t offer to help me with my tooth, even though we lived together, and he made an almost six figure salary, with a side hustle of some kind to boot. The same thing happened to the capped tooth on the left of my main front capped tooth, as well. That one fell out in the exact same way with a different meal prepared. I was living with Rosie, along with his mom, and kids, in their new house closer to the city of Montreal from August, 2023, to August, 2024. The infection from 2022 when I was in Rosie’s old apartment had started to migrate towards the front of my mouth.
My two front capped teeth used to be snug tight together in the center. Today, whilst walking, I can feel a gap with my tongue. The capped teeth are also protruding forward more. I never had bucked teeth up until now. It’s weird as hell and takes some getting use to, to be honest. My teeth are eroding from the inside out. Those stumps underneath the caps do not have enough enamel, nor strength to hold the caps for much longer. I know this. My intuition tells me so, even if I haven’t had any dental work, nor benefits in over a decade.
With that in mind, my ego wants to have a crying fit in frustration, and say “hurry the fuck up manifestation! I am open to receive my new teeth!” I do have faith all my efforts to make something of myself does in fact pay off. I also know my teeth, and physical health are a serious issue right now. As I come into making a name for myself, my health is my top priority. Point blank, period.
That’s the thing. Life throws curve balls. Sometimes we get smacked by our ego sensitivities. Even after waking up from the oppressive matrix. Life is a constant healing journey. Having a “fuck it day”, where you do whatever fun thing you want out of sheer frustration, is a form of healing. Even after discovering all the many layers to your psyche, with the subliminal patterns, and conditioning through self criticisms, and blame, has been uncovered. There is still plenty of time for plenty of healing and self discovery.
Knowing that, I had to write about this now. I have built a loving relationship with my little girl inside. She trusts me to take care of her now. She trusts that I will keep my promises of a prosperous, and loving, enriched life. When she starts to voice a little temper tantrum or fear, I check in. I acknowledge the painful emotional fear, and then reinforce a proactive line of thinking. In this case it is “Clair, you are writing. You love what you are doing. You are also healing a shit ton of trauma. On your own, with spirit’s help, I might add. Keep going. Keep writing. Trust the process. Trust in spirit. You are free to be you in all your beautiful, healthy, radiant glory.” That’s the way my mind works. That’s the way the loving voice inside my head whispers to me. I have learned to listen. I can do this, and I will.
Anytime you get smacked down, acknowledge that you are. Allow yourself to feel the pain by acknowledging the emotions, and what is triggering them. Then decide, do you maintain the emotional pain?, or, do you choose a healthier, more proactive line of thinking? This is how you can come to respect, know, and truly understand yourself. Then you get to consciously choose what to proactively think. It’s kind of like lucid dreaming in a way.
As my daughter, Liv, so eloquently said to me one day, “if you are experiencing the emotion for more than eight seconds, you are choosing to experience the emotion”. It’s true. I’m not about to choose to live in that, beat-myself-up, energy, any longer. I choose to feel good. To do that, I am choosing to stay focused on what I am writing to you, my welcomed and highly valued reader.
p.s.Thank you so very much for your compassionate heart to see past my plethora of formatting, spelling, and grammatical errors as you read. I appreciate you
Back to the regular scheduled program. Driving nine hours with an ex husband in a small Honda Civic. After five days of emotional hell with Rosie. Fun times.
LivWithClairity 
Leave a comment