(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Mature subject matter. Reader discretion is advised. 18+)
I had gone for a walk today. I thought about the next blog for this writing of my life story. I plan to write about a long car ride back to New Brunswick from Quebec. This seemingly impulsive interlude is more important at this time. It is most certainly a car ride worth journeying alongside me. It is well worth your read. If not to help with your own lightbulb moments, for entertainment purposes at least. Especially if you have been reading along on my torred love affair thus far.
The car ride experience is also invaluable for my continued healing journey. I must write about it if I desire my mental health. 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 be heard.
With that in my 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 jaw is in some pain on a daily basis.
My top four front and center teeth have been capped due to a cavity I had gotten back in 2015. I had access to Bill’s, work benefits for two years after our separation back in 2013. He removed me from his benefits some time in the latter half of that year. I think he did anyway, because neither my eldest daughter, Liv, nor I were blessed with any medical, nor dental, from his benefits after that. When Liv had asked her step dad to help her with her teeth, his quick response to her was something along the lines of “go get a job”, from what I understand. His budget may have been stretched and Liv loves her dad. That was still a shitty thing for him to say to her though. It had stung us both.
I took full advantage of Bill’s benefits after our separation in 2013. Beautiful teeth and smile 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 in perfect alignment together. I had 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 front teeth in order to spike them for the caps. After I broke a tooth with a literal taco Rosie served me, I contracted an infection. The infection took over my mouth and has been rotting my teeth underneath the surface. My mouth and jaw and speech are currently affected 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 inside no longer desires action to prove it to anyone else. I choose to rest from having to carry so much pain placed upon me by other people’s opinions of my looks. I have personal opinions of my own to work with. That’s more than enough for me.
The day I had broken my tooth, Rosie, Jean, Alyssa, and myself were all seated 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 the proud chef of the family. Rightfully so. She is a beautiful Haitian cook. I did thoroughly enjoy her food. I hadn’t tasted haitian food before I had met Rosie’s mum. She knew what she was doing when it came to pouring love into her meals.
I also knew of secret criticisms both Rosie and his mother had projected at me energetically. They didn’t know I knew. I can read energy constantly. My ability to read vibes around me comes by me naturally. I keep my observations to myself most of the time. The energy I read from Rosie and his mum had allowed me to become self conscious about 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 always made enough for leftovers and yet there was rarely leftovers to be had. I loved that.
I loved when my children’s friends called me “Mumma C”. Everyone was treated the same and welcomed in my home as if they were my own children. As mentioned before, I have a soft spot for all young people, big and small. It amazes me 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 opposed to back then. No one calls me ‘Mumma C’ anymore either. I am now a hermit it seems.
Whilst we were seated around the dining table, talking about the kids’ day at school, I had bit into the taco Rosie served me. In that instant, my tooth broke in half. It fell onto my hand. It was incredibly embarrassing. Rosie’s kids looked straight at me, then their dad, with a look of “what do we say?”. Rosie had been standing to my left. He was 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 wanted to hide away inside a cave. Damn that was embarrassing.
I was blessed, and or, cursed, depending on how you look at it, with soft teeth. The enamel which coats teeth is weaker than the average person’s. Both my children have the same issues. It seems it is hereditary. Perhaps there is some truth with 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 Rosie was blind. Rosie was spiritually blind. His glasses worked perfectly fine otherwise. I relinquished the rest of my meal. I gave it to the kids to share. Then proceeded to distractedly listen in on 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 that I might have broken 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, he had medical and dental benefits, and Rosie had made an almost six figure salary, with a side hustle of some kind to boot. Rosie was money hungry. The idea of him losing money had trumped my comfort.
The same thing happened to the capped tooth on the left of my main front capped tooth as well. That one broke apart in the exact same way with a different meal prepared. I was living with Rosie, along with his mom, and his kids, in their new house closer to the city of Montreal from August, 2023, through to and including most of August, 2024. The infection I contracted in 2022 when I was in Rosie’s old apartment had started to migrate towards the front of my mouth. There has been little to no stopping it. I have little choice but to suffer. I have no resources to help me.
My two front capped teeth used to be snug tight together. Today, whilst walking, I can feel a gap with my tongue. My capped teeth are 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 currently 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. The men I had dedicated my life to had benefits and used them regularly. Whilst I was witness to their luxury in silence.
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 new teeth!”
I love to laugh and smile. I can’t do that comfortably these days. I am so sad about this.
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. I invest in medical procedures to get my full physical health back on track. I also exercise and eat extremely well. I am healthy in all aspects of my life, damn it!
That’s the thing. Life throws curve balls. Sometimes we get smacked by 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 self 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. Lifetimes worth to be exact.
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 painful and high emotional fear. 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 and 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 currently triggers them. Then decide; do you maintain the emotional pain?, or, do you choose much healthier proactive thinking? This is a way that you come to respect, and truly understand yourself on all levels. Then you get to consciously choose what to proactively think. It’s kind of like lucid dreaming in a way. You become aware that you are the one who translates an experience and final outcome of your dreams. Your life is what you decide it is for you. That’s what I do anyway. My health improves everyday with this mindset. Even when I am unable to see it. A seed starts to grow in the dark before you can see it in the light.
My daughter, Liv, eloquently said to me one day, “Aside from extreme sudden trauma, if you experience an emotion for more than eight seconds, you are choosing to experience the emotion”.
It’s true. I’m not about to live in that beat-myself-up energy any longer. I choose to feel good. To do that, I choose to focuse on what I am writing, to you, my welcomed and highly valued reader. As well as for myself.
p.s. Thank you so very much for your compassionate heart. You choose to read my work with a plethora of formatting, spelling, and grammatical errors. I appreciate this about you. I’m perfect and being an imperfect me.
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 