Voicelessness and Emotional Survival > Voicelessness and Emotional Survival Message Board

All those conversations in my head

(1/5) > >>

Redhead Erin:
All the stuff I would say to her, if only I thought she would hear it.

I will begin with the trip to the dentist. When I was 6, I had my first dentist visit.  It turns out I had 5 or 6 cavities.  This is not surprising considering, every night of my life, something happened to me at bedtime, in the bathroom, that resulted in my screaming and hysteria.  I don't remember the details (mercifully, I'm sure) but I do recall that the night-time drama was so intense that our dog became convinced that no one should enter the bathroom at any time, and would set up a crazed barking and snarling display any time anyone tried to go in there. So anyway, not big surprise to find out my dental care had been neglected.

So the old doc in town wisely decided that he didn't want to fill a kid's half-dozen cavities, and a new, young and energetic dentist in the next town would be a better fit.  Off we went.

Now my mother loves to tell people about this next part. She laughs when she tells it.  Again, I have no memory of it. They took me in the exam room and she stayed in the waiting area. I began to scream. I screamed and fought so hard it took all the staff to hold me in the chair. One of the staff members came out and turned the Muzak up really high to cover the noise. My mother continued to sit in the waiting room, embarrassed for people to know it was her kid. I emerged tear-stained and disheveled.  That dentist continued to treat me for the rest of my childhood. He always called me Tiger.

Not surprisingly, I have a history of dental horrors, many of which were exacerbated by my fear of dentists and my absolute hatred of brushing my teeth. (I had some rough times with the army dentists, too, which of course only confirmed my fears.) I had to go to the dentist again yesterday because my crown mysteriously disappeared and had to be replaced.  The visit involved the usual shots, etc., administered by my very patient dentist who knows I have a history of trauma and is always telling me I'm doing great, even when the tears are running down my face and my shoulders are mushed up to my ears. My sweet little son, who had been doing his school work in the waiting room, came in to say hi. 

SO anyway, as I was getting another shot, I flashed back to that visit, or at least her re-telling of it.  And I wanted to say:

Where the hell were you? Sitting on your ass in the waiting room while your daughter screams in terror at the dentist!  What is WRONG with you?  How could you even think that is funny? It was horrible, and as usual, YOU WERE NOT THERE FOR ME. Now I have a mouth full of problems brought on, in part, by a phobia of dentists that traces back to that very day. 

There.  Now I feel better.

sKePTiKal:
Wow, Erin... I have memories like that too. And this summer, the same experience of tears just flowing during x-rays and beyond; uncontrollable shaking during a cleaning session too.

Only, unfortunately, back then my mom was IN the room... telling the doc I had a high threshold for pain, so no point in paying for the novacaine (or whatever they used back in the 60s). I equate dentists offices with torture chambers (emotionally) - and truthfully, some of the torture looks preferable to me! Despite the fact that my recent dentists have been so understanding and gentle. She didn't CARE if I was in pain - according to her I was just being over-sensitive, anxious, and it couldn't possibly hurt that much. Because she wasn't the one in the chair, you know? She felt no pain, therefore I couldn't. (yeah, happy delusions...) In fact, I don't remember my mom going to the dentist EVER.

I'll bet you can think of other examples of how she didn't teach you other things, too... didn't think they were important, etc. There is an amazing amount of "common ground" in the types of things, among people's stories, that Nmoms did/didn't do that left us with bad habits... or bad thought patterns about our bodies and how to take care of ourselves. The GOOD NEWS, is that this isn't a permanent "conditioning" of our thoughts. We can change this, with itty-bitty little steps, over time. I've been making pretty good progress! Like you, I've gained some peace from the constant demand of Nmom lately... and it's just amazing how much EASIER life is - and even making those kinds of changes are - when I don't "hear" Nmom sneaking up on me with her latest tale of outrageous woe: which usually amounts to the horrifying fact that other people are different from her. </sarcasm>

Hopalong:
sedation dentistry

hypnosis-assisted dentistry


xo

Hops

Redhead Erin:
I have a whole packet of memories like this.  The dentist is only the beginning.  And a whole pile of unfinished converstions that go around and around in my head, that I need to get out. Stay tuned for more of my raving monologs.



--- Quote from: PhoenixRising on November 11, 2011, 08:05:49 AM ---


I'll bet you can think of other examples of how she didn't teach you other things, too... didn't think they were important, etc. There is an amazing amount of "common ground" in the types of things, among people's stories, that Nmoms did/didn't do that left us with bad habits... or bad thought patterns about our bodies and how to take care of ourselves. The GOOD NEWS, is that this isn't a permanent "conditioning" of our thoughts. We can change this, with itty-bitty little steps, over time. I've been making pretty good progress! Like you, I've gained some peace from the constant demand of Nmom lately... and it's just amazing how much EASIER life is - and even making those kinds of changes are - when I don't "hear" Nmom sneaking up on me with her latest tale of outrageous woe: which usually amounts to the horrifying fact that other people are different from her. </sarcasm>

--- End quote ---


Actually, she didn't teach me shit. I cant honestly think of one single useful thing she ever told me. I have been thinking of asking Dr. G to start a new section where we can ask questions that we would be too embarrassed to ask anywhere else, the kind of things our mothers should have taught us. For example, how do I mop a floor?

BonesMS:
Reading this thread has brought up memories for me too regarding the dentist.  I still have problems with trauma in the dentist office because the NQueen !@#$ INSISTED on taking both the NGCB and me to a CHEAP quack so SHE wouldn't have to spend any more money than SHE wanted to.  She never went to the dentist herself because she had a full set of dentures.  One nightmare experience was when the NGCB had one of his PERMANENT teeth yanked out WITHOUT aesnethesia and hearing him being told to stop being a crybaby!  He was screaming in agony!

When my permanent teeth started coming in all kinds of crooked due to my birth defect, she would often fly into an NRage because I couldn't talk right and I DARED mention that I might need orthodontic treatment.  I lost count of how many times she would beat on me for that.  At one point, she told the quack to pull out ALL of my teeth IF they were coming in crooked!!   :shock:  Now how F-ed up is THAT?!?!?  Thank God I was able to fight that off in spite of her attempts to beat me into submission.

Fast forward, to age 17, when I found a new dentist close to work when I found a cavity in my front tooth.  I shared with him about my prior experiences and the resulting terror I struggle with.  He told me that I should have gotten orthodontic treatment when my permanent teeth started to come in.  I told him he was preaching to the choir and explained what the N!@#$ did every time I attempted to have a discussion about it.  He happened to know an orthodontist right across the street and sent me over there.  (Apparently, the orthodontist was called before I got there because he was expecting me when I walked into his office.)  Between this dentist and orthodontist, they were able to document everything that needed treatment.  The orthodontist did a plaster casting of my upper and lower jaw even though there was no guarantee he would be permitted to treat me.  When they mentioned that I needed to get parental permission, due to being a legal minor, I was terrified of getting another beating.  I asked could I wait until I was 21 and they said if I attempted that, I wouldn't have anything left.  They both assured me that they had a plan and to please stop worrying.  They explained that once they had everything set up, they would ask me to tell the N!@#$ to schedule an appointment.  I asked what could I do if she refused.  Again, they stated they had a plan but would not elaborate further.

When they gave me the green light, with instructions that the dentist would call by a certain time if she had not called him yet, I gave the N!@#$ the dentist's business card and told her that he wanted to have an appointment with her.  Just as I expected, she flew into another one of her rages.  I don't know how but I managed to stay calm in spite of her violent behavior, but GOD did it hurt!  When she wore herself out, I stated that if she didn't call him, HE WAS GOING TO CALL HER by a specific time.  She refused to believe me until the phone rang!  When she spoke to the dentist, she tried to insist that I was "too mentally ill to know what I was talking about" and I got the sense that the dentist wasn't buying it.

I learned later that when she went in to meet with the dentist, she started up her tirade of how I was "mentally ill", a "liar", and I was always trying to "steal from her".  The dentist showed her the physical evidence that he had to prove that this was NOT a delusion on my part and that I REALLY needed treatment.  She attempted to counter with:  "She doesn't clean her teeth right!"  The dentist pointed out that HE COULDN'T CLEAN MY TEETH PROPERLY BECAUSE OF THE UNTREATED BIRTH DEFECT!  If HE can't get dental floss in between my teeth, what makes her think that I could do a better job than the dentist!?!  Then he shipped her across the street to the orthodontist, who was ready and waiting for her.

The orthodontist told her to wait inside his office while he was finishing up with a patient.  When she went in, she saw several plaster castings of different people's teeth on the desk and she spotted one that was badly deformed.  She picked it up and flipped it over and discovered my name on it!   :shock:  That's when the orthodontist walked in and found her with my plaster casting in her hands.  Between the dentist and the orthodontist, she was given no choice but to give her consent.  Years later, it dawned on me how and why they were able to succeed....she was given a choice of either sign on the dotted line, giving consent, or talk to Child Protective Services.  (She was always whining about "What would the neighbors think?")

It still boggles the mind that she had ABSOLUTELY NO maternal instincts and had to be FORCED to do what other responsible parents would do!

Bones

Navigation

[0] Message Index

[#] Next page