You should probably read my original post first -the general gist being that after ELEVEN YEARS of avoiding the dentist due to sheer terror, I decided to try to actually deal with my phobia instead of hiding from it and feeling like I was being followed around by an ever increasing dread cloud the last few years.
Actually, I never really made an update after that post. I talked about my plans to psyche myself up to make an appointment and confront my biggest fear and ... then never followed up. What a tease!
So, come settle down children and mama's gonna tell you a story. A wonderful story, the best true life story that ever was since Homeward Bound! Well, just before Christmas 2011, I went to the dentist. I just ended up going to a local guy my mom regularly goes to. My doctor had prescribed me valium for the occasion, but on the morning of the big day I was so stressed out that I forgot to take it until five minutes before the appointment and by that stage there was no point. (Don't let me make the same mistake on my wedding day! Eh? Eh?). My sister drove me up. The surgery (why do they have to call a dentist's office a surgery? Why not just call it an office? Ugh) was located in a regular house. I sat in the waiting room for about five minutes, nervously laughing (while secretly wanting to vomit) with my sister who was totally getting a kick out of the thing, but still being nice and sisterly and telling me I'd be fine. Then the dentist came out and lead me into the room.
First off, it was pretty nice! It had French doors that looked onto a backyard with lots of flowers, and felt a lot less formal than I expected. The chair too -that looming figure from my nightmares -was also less intimidating than imagined. It was smaller than I remembered, and much lower... less like an operating table and more like a chaise longue. The dentist was super nice too. I guiltily told him how long it had been, feeling like a lapsed Catholic at confession and he just told me there'd be nothing to worry about. Next thing I'm saying "ahhh" and I can taste the latex gloves as he pokes around and prods a little with the little mirror and pointy thing. I was still nervous, but a few months beforehand, just imagining this much would have had crying and retching. But here I was, doing it, in real life! And I just remember thinking "this really isn't so bad...". I'm still waiting for him to recoil in horror, to call for back-up, to give me some indication of just how far gone things are. Instead he asks if I grind my teeth. I said I didn't think I did, but I drank a lot of soda -my big, dark, dental secret. (Why would someone who hates dentists do much do that to herself?). Then he said he wanted to take an x-ray, so I had to bite down on these weird metal things that made me think of electroschock therapy, but obviously, it was painless. This whole thing took about five minutes and then he pushed himself back on the wheelie stool he was sitting on and said "Right!" as if that was everything. Here it comes, I thought, trying to absorb and appreciate these last precious moments of ignorance before hearing the verdict, the long list of things that needed doing.
"That's perfect then. Just come back in a few months and try not to grind your teeth, I can see some wearing on your enamel."
"What, you mean that's it?!"
"Yep. See, nothing to worry about."
"You mean I don't even have any cavities or... anything?!"
"Nope. Don't let anyone touch your teeth, they're fine! And really, once you get to your twenties if you don't have many cavities it generally means you have strong teeth and shouldn't expect to get cavities as long as you look after them."
This was insane. I could not believe it. This was impossible. I hadn't even hoped for an outcome as unrealistic and awesome as this one. I walked out to the receptionist to pay up and was stunned. My sister saw my face, probably white as a sheet from the shock, and asked how it went, excitedly. Frankly, I think she was a little disappointed when I explained I had been given the all clear, and who could blame her... there had been such a build up to this, that it was almost a anti-climactic. Almost. I was on top of the world, and I still think that's always going to be one of the best moments of my entire life. And if you think that's sad then you just don't understand how big this fear was and what a triumph it was to face it. To not need any work was just a dream come true on top.
It was a Christmas miracle!!
That was a year and a half ago. I purposely didn't visit a dentist during my year in Korea because I had heard scary things, and meant to go as soon as I came home, but of course it's pretty easy to put off things we don't want to do. Still, it's been well over a year and I do not want to let it go so long that all that fear builds up again, I know it's best to go when the memory of that super positive experience is still fresh in my mind. So, I phoned today, like the total badass that I am, and I have the check-up Thursday. And I'm certainly nervous and fearful and worried but it is absolutely nothing in comparison to how I felt two years ago. Two years ago, choosing to go to the dentist of my own accord was just an impossibility. Downright unfathomable.
I know it all sounds very trivial and first world problems of me if you've never experienced a phobia to the same extent. But it honestly changed my life, to know that I could do the one thing in life that scared me most. That means I can do anything. (Well, not anything, I'll still never be able to do a cartwheel or ride a bike with no hands or drink cream liqueurs, but you know what I mean.) It's weird though, to think that two years ago I had this crippling phobia that was affecting me on a personal level, I mean I got depressed about it every day. And now, I actually feel free. I don't know, I'm really not into all that new-age-y bullshit, but I will never underestimate the power of positive thinking and ideation. If you have a phobia or just a fear/dread of something that is affecting your life, I really would urge you to do something about it. Make a plan, start imagining positive experiences, create favourable memories even if they are fictitious, KNOW that the imagined fear is a zillion times worse than the actual experience will be, take small steps, think about how fucking rad you will feel about yourself when you conquer it, and how you will wish you had done it sooner.
And if that doesn't work, just be grateful you don't have mangoworms. (Seriously, do a youtube search for mangoworms. It's THE WORST. I can't stop watching.)
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