Seventh


Dear July,
I got a filing replaced today and I didn’t cry. Im not good at dentists. I pretend that I’m completely calm and in control, despite the way my voice cracks and my breathing is too fast and I clench my hands into fists. They can absolutely tell that Im not fine, from the way I scrunch up my eyes and curl my toes as far upwards as theyll go. I don’t know why I want to pretend that I’m fine. Maybe because the alternative is giving in to the panic and that would mean letting it engulf me. Maybe it’s because being relentlessly cheerful despite it all is somehow easier than actually saying “I’m super anxious about this but I promise I’ll be fine”.
There’s a part of me that wants to be stronger. I want going to the dentist without crying to feel normal, not like an achievement. It’s hard to not equate mental illness with weakness when it can make you feel so physically weak. At one point today, I sat up to rinse my mouth out and my hand was shaking so badly I could barely hold the cup. It isn’t weak though, to do something that’s hard even though it scares you. I tell other people that all the time. I need to get better at telling myself.
Alex x

I’m posting a blog for every day in July. Letters to July was inspired by Emily Diana Ruth.

Further reading

December – home

I spent the first minutes of 2018 on the beach. I’ve never actually spent New Year