The Seven of Us

Well, I had my first root canal today.  It wasn’t unexpected; I’ve had 3 teeth crowned this year. I’ve had some tooth pain. I booked the appointment and went to Greeley fully expecting I’d end up having a procedure- or two. (I guess I was lucky: Only one. (But I’ll need another soon.)  I do not enjoy going to the dentist. In fact, it’s become emotionally difficult. I had perfect teeth until I had children---just one small cavity. I also had braces. My teeth were pretty, and they were healthy. I always brushed and flossed and had regular dental check ups. (Still, after my fourth baby was born, I needed a mouthful of fillings. In the sixteen years since, my fillings have fallen out and been replaced with deeper ones. More teeth have needed work. Which brings me to today.  The dentist. It’s hard for me to go there. The past few times, I’ve cried. right there in the dentist's chair, during procedures. I’ve cried tears of frustration. Tears that come, unbidden, ...

The title of this post isn't the best; I've been told a sentence should never end with a preposition. I couldn't help myself, though:  I am truly in a good place. And it feels literal and  physical, not just metaphorical. I haven't blogged much for awhile. I haven't journaled much, either, but my thoughts are always there, swirling around my crazy mind. And my heart is one big, open book. I become more honest every day-- I'm not good at hiding my feelings and am sometimes too honest or even blunt (I always regret being blunt, but never being honest.  I'm thankful I'm comfortable enough to be honest. I hope I never hurt anyone's feelings. In reality, my goal is just to be authentic, real, and true to myself and my convictions.)  Also, I've realized how much I benefit from listening to others who are honest, even about their hardships. I want to be like that. And I think I'm getting there. Back to this place I'm in, though. Sometimes...