Hi and
I know you don't feel as though you have the courage to deal with this right now, but you do. It takes an enormous amount of courage to overcome the challenges that you have done so far, so underneath it all, somewhere deep inside, you do have the strength and courage - it's just that it might not feel like it to you at the moment. You found this forum and decided to post a message; that in itself takes courage, because it's the start of you reaching out and finding the help that you need in order to be able to move forward and get the treatment you need
.
I've done a lot of personal development work over the last few years. I'm aware that my fear comes from my abusive background. The thought of lying down with someone forcing something in my mouth terrifies me. I know that they're trying to help not harm me but somehow my fear is not reasonable or rational and I turn into a small child again.
The thought of lying down with someone behind me, putting things in my mouth terrifies me too; I had years of really bad and abusive experiences during dental appointments as a child, to the point where I still experience flashbacks and panic attacks during my appointments now sometimes, even though I now have a dentist who is very patient and understanding and who would never do anything to hurt me. On a rational level, I know that I'm an adult now and that nothing like the stuff that happened when I was younger, is ever likely to happen again, but that doesn't stop me feeling like the small and terrified child every time I'm in the chair.
Earlier this year, my dentist referred me to an endodontist because a root canal I had done a few years ago, needed to be re-treated before I had a crown on the tooth. When I went for the initial consultation with this endodontist, he turned out to be one of the rudest, roughest, abrupt and unpleasant people I have met in a long time. His behaviour was such that it felt like I was regressing back to being a 5 year old again when all the bad stuff was happening; I was absolutely terrified of him - even though I'm now an adult in my mid thirties. I ended up in tears as soon as I walked out of the building because I'd been made to feel so stupid and worthless and I was in so much of a state, that my mum offered to email an oral surgeon who she knows because she said that he would probably be able to recommend another endodontist. Fortunately he replied that night with the name of someone else and so the following morning, I phoned and made an appointment for an initial consultation.
Given how horrendous the first endodontist was, I was absolutely terrified at the prospect of meeting the second one, even though he'd been very highly recommended. When I went to the appointment, I sat in the waiting room absolutely shaking like a leaf and I was about 30 seconds from walking out due to nerves, when the dentist came in, said hello and suggested that we went upstairs into his office for a chat. I told him that I'd had a lot of previous bad experiences and that I have to know that the dentist won't just carry on if I'm in pain, too anxious or need a break. In the past, I've had dentists who have just carried on, even though I've been begging them to stop because I've been in pain and they just ignored it. I made this guy promise on his life that he would make sure my tooth was numb and that he would stop if I asked and that he wouldn't just carry on. He said that he didn't see the point in just carrying on if I wasn't comfortable, because it was about working together.
Six months later and I've ended up having six root canals. It hasn't been easy at all; every time I lay in the chair, I worry about having flashbacks to previous experiences and what might happen if I do. I've had to learn to cope with the rubber dam, which was almost impossible for me in the beginning because every time it was put on, it felt as though I was being suffocated just like when the dentist used to put his hand over my mouth to stop me breathing when I was younger (he used to do this when I couldn't open my mouth because I was too scared). But I've managed to get through it all (admittedly with the help of a few Valium pills
) and I couldn't have done it without the dentist being as patient, kind and understanding as he was. Reflecting back on that initial consultation I had a few months ago, he was absolutely right; it is about working together and that's something that had never occurred to me before because for me at least, dentistry was always something that was done
to me, not
for me or
with me.
Nobody will be forcing anything in your mouth; you are choosing to let them help you. You are the one making the choices now. You're the one who's now in control. Try not to worry about turning into a small child again; I've spent years worrying about what if it happens. Sometimes the fear of it happening, is actually much worse and harder to cope with than just letting go and deciding that if it happens, then it happens. Generally speaking (with one or two exceptions; one of whom was the first endodontist I went to see), no dentist has reacted badly whenever I've become scared or I've been panicking. The more pressure you put on yourself to be 'the perfect patient', the more worried you become; it's a vicious circle.
Somehow my shame and embarrassment is not so much to do with the dentist but with everyone. I feel transparent, as though everyone can see through me and see how ugly my mouth is. I wish I could where a burqa.
There is a saying: "Beauty is only skin deep"... and it's very true. The world is fully of seemingly perfect people who have perfect skin, perfect teeth and perfect hair. We spend so much time looking at other people around us, whether they're people we know, people on TV or in books and magazines, and comparing ourselves to them and how they somehow appear to be in some way better than us, that we forget that we are as we are; to love ourselves for who we are rather than who we wish we were. We spend too much time looking at other people and wishing that we were doing what they were doing, instead of deciding to do what we want to do. We become insecure and then start feeling unhappy because we've decided that we don't measure up. But who says that you have to measure up to anyone else anyway?
In my day job in an advertising agency, I come across all sorts of people - most of them 'marketing or advertising arty types' who are trying to be something they're not. Some of the people I've worked with over the years have been stunning beauties with their perfect hair, perfect skin and their perfect nails; but that doesn't mean that they can do the job any better than the small chubby person with a face full of spots who wears glasses (which is me
). At the end of the day, their nails are usually false and underneath all the makeup, they have just as many spots as I do.
I used to worry all the time about what other people thought of me, especially when I was younger. I used to have panic attacks and was quite withdrawn and shy because I thought that other people were better than me and I used to worry about what other people thought. I decided that I needed to learn to drive when I was 25 and so I went out and bought myself a car and arranged for driving lessons with a few of my friends and family. As it got nearer to my driving test, I booked a few lessons with a driving instructor, just to make sure that I was ready to take my driving test. One evening, during one of the lessons with the instructor, I was driving along and I can't remember what we were talking about, but I remember saying that he would probably think I was stupid. My instructor replied: "Does it matter what I think?" and that was a bit of a turning point for me, because I realised that it didn't matter because he was just a driving instructor who was there to give me a few lessons before I took my test. I said to him (with a smile on my face): "No, it doesn't". From then on, I decided that I was only going to care about what other people thought, if I actually cared about those people.
I'm sure you don't want to wear a burqa really - they don't look all that comfortable to me... And imagine how hot it would get in the summer
.
