The Return of the Beast
Yep, just that. I was easily fooled and actually thought I was recovering but then the beast materialised and buried my hopes in an onslaught of panic and anxiety that so far has lasted nine days. Just when I thought it was safe to announce, “I’m nearly healed”, it crashes in and devours my dreams.
There’s no doubt that it had a trigger. I broke a back tooth. It crumbled away beneath my toothbrush and panic immediately took the place of calm. “What if this couldn’t be mended and I have to have it out?”; “How am I going to get to the dentist?”; “Any dental anaesthetic is going to cause a wave”. On and on went this negative pattern of thoughts with the obvious result that the dormant Benzo beast put in a rapid and ferocious appearance. I spent that night awake and for the following nine days I’ve had just three nights of sleep. I’ve spent the rest pacing my house, shaking on my bed, sweating and well, you know the picture.
Somehow I drifted into the dentist’s surgery in a haze of determination. I successfully underwent the rebuilding of the rogue tooth with not a moment of panic. All went calm as soon as I lay back and just let what would be, be. I have a good, understanding dentist. He gave me a mild injection of Citanest (Prilocaine with no adrenaline component). There was virtually no numbing effect and no pain. I came away mildly euphoric that my tooth was whole again and that the rest of my teeth and gums are standing benzo withdrawal quite well.
I slept that night but the beast wasn’t so easily satisfied and the wave has continued to swamp me and take away much of my previous calm. It will go but for the moment I’m writing in a mist. We are so very fragile that believing full health will one day be ours gets easily quashed. I must just accept and move on.