Ask MetaFilter questions tagged with angst

Running out of beans, in my head.

Anonymous — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 13:07:02 -0800

Datingfilter: Did I just get blown off? Yes, there's more bean platiness to this. Several weeks ago I was enjoying a beer on a sunny Friday afternoon with my friend 'Dave' at a local brewery. We ran into his friend 'Jane' who then joined our table. Over the course of the conversation I realized that I was attracted to Jane but made no attempt to do anything about it (burnt out on dating, or lack thereof). We talked about music, upcoming concerts and such.

The following week, Dave and I carpooled to a free outdoor concert and Jane joined us (same concert we had talked about). We spent the whole day together, talked about many things, but I still did not consider making a move on her. Post concert (2-3 days later) she sends me an email saying that she enjoyed the day and that we (not all three of us) should do something like this again. I agreed, pitched the idea for a show at the end of the month. she seemed excited.

A week later I organize a meeting (work related), which Jane hears about (via an email list) and says she would come because it sounds exciting. Post meeting we go out for beers, and several hours later dinner, then back to her place where we makeout, talk, and just spend the whole night together. In the morning she files back east to see her family for a week.

For a moment I thought this just happened because we were somewhat drunk but there were other indications. She delayed her ride to the airport so she could spend more time with me. At least two times she said that she was bummed not to be able to spend the day with me.

Great, I'm excited. Can't wait to see her when she's back. We exchanged a couple of brief text messages after she got home but I didn't say/do much after that to not seem very eager.

3 days later I get a flirty text. So now I'm excited, (Hey she really does like me, and didn't chalk that night up to a drunken encounter. yay!). We exchange several messages over the week. I make her a mix (like we had talked about). She seems stoked. The night before she returns, she says something like Coming home tomorrow! Packing now, rather than last minute like last time ;)

I replied looking forward to seeing you. That's it.

From then on I get no reply from her. She flew home Tuesday and not a word from her. This is where I get all beanplatey in my head:

a) Did I freak her out by saying that?
b) Perhaps the message didn't go through, but it shows up as sent and I have no reason to believe otherwise.

So I figure I will give it a few days before acting on it. I saw her today, very unexpectedly. We literally ran into each other as she was walking out of the restroom. She said hey...um..I have to get back to my meeting (which is true, she did have a meeting then). What now?

Do I just leave this awkward like so for every future interaction?

My usual thoughts run like this:

Ah I guess she realized that she's not into me. Last thing I want to do is to freak her out more by getting pushy. I will just back off and let this go.

Another part of me says Hey stupid. That's what you always do. Why not call her and talk to her?

So what do I do? Respect her wish not to pursue this anymore (for whatever reasons)?

What are small ways you use to make a mundane life more bearable?

mmmleaf — Sun, 15 Feb 2009 01:47:23 -0800

What are small ways you use to make a mundane life more bearable? It probably sounds stupid to ask for ways to change without totally making over my life but I guess I'm stuck in the excruciating wait of the last years of high school.

School is pretty tough and with all this godawful pressure to do well and get into X college, I'm fucking my sanity up the ass with a few scant hours of sleep a night and awful weekends when my parents rail me about female domestic obligations and ask me how that job search is going. I go to one of those sad schools near the top of those U.S. News rankings so they are beating us with hypothetical whips of sorts. I respect my teachers and don't cheat, put in an awfully ridiculous amount of time into student organizations in need of devotion and can't help but get the feeling that none of it matters. It's just high school, after all.

When I get my report card, none of it matters, and it's not satisfying, but not doing well in school would make me feel crappy too. So I can't really change all of the above, the not sleeping and homework and shit, but I guess I'm looking for ways to make the days pass by a little easier. I don't exactly have sunshine coming out of my ass either. Sometimes I sit in the bathroom and read Harper's instead of doing math, which is really a piece of shit of a subject for me, and that makes me happy for awhile.

In short, I am a helpless nerd tied by all sorts of silly obligations who doesn't have time for herself. Being a teenage girl sucks and there's not much I can do about that, but wait.

What do you when you're stuck and just have to wait for time to plod on by?

For all those beautiful bulemics out there, this song goes out to YOU!

Keter — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 17:57:43 -0800

A close friend and I are embarking on a collegiate radio adventure through the wrist-slittingly fun world of teenage problems and angst. We're developing a list of musical sub-themes and came to one we like in theory but don't have much material for: Eating Disorders! Does anyone know of any (any) any (any) songs about Eating Disorders? Please share!

How do I move on?

Yasuo — Wed, 24 Dec 2008 14:03:02 -0800

Still new to relationships and the heartbreak that comes with. Somewhat long post with teen angst inside. I have worked up the courage to post this question after weeks of searching and reading threads related to heartbreak on both Google and MeFi. Perhaps receiving advices specifically to my situation would assist me some more. This is possibly a simple situation to most of you adults, but I seem to be having a difficult time. First off, some background info because I suppose this would help evaluate my feelings and actions (especially the age part). I'm a 16-year-old girl who's daily activities consist of either going to school or browsing the internet. It has been this way for many years. I have never had a girlfriend/boyfriend nor even bothered dating. Therefore I am short on experiences to fall on.

The internet became more of a problem earlier this year when I fell in love with a girl from another country, whom I met on an internet community of an underground hobby. I've admired her art from afar, and felt an instant attraction to when we spoke a year later because I have a soft spot for artsy people. I am quite aware of unconsciously using fantasies to "fill in the voids" of any internet relationship, but I fell infatuated with her nonetheless. We mostly chatted on messenger, but have used webcam a few times too.

Our friendship hit it's peak when she was free to lounge around the computer over the summer. We both knew we had a thing for each other, but decided against acting on it because distance is a factor. We would make plans to collaborate projects together in the future, like building a website, but our time together slowly weaned when she entered college.

Before all the following bullshit happened, I tried ending our friendship when school started. College had helped her realize reality, and she stopped seeing me as more than a friend within a week. I had a feeling I would react like a total immature asshole if I hung on, but she wanted me to try anyways because she valued our friendship and that I had to find other ways of dealing with myself without hurting other people.

In the meantime, I would suffer some withdrawal-like symptoms, becoming more obsessive, and thinking about her every minute. I would become indecisive and angry towards her, trying to provoke her into becoming angry with me to show that she still cared (which, by the way, never worked). I now know after browsing MeFi that I shouldn't have listened for my own sake because all it did was to delay the inevitable heartbreak. I believe her plea contributed to a large chunk of the heartbreak I'm feeling now, and thus where I need advice most.

We had our on and offs that lasted a couple days each time I would get angry at her for not speaking to me more, until five weeks ago when she decided to end our friendship definitely. She claims that school work takes most of her time, and being bulimic has "sucked the life out of her". She couldn't maintain our friendship anymore because of time, lack of energy, and motivation. That she wanted me to be happy, and it wasn't anything I've done the past months. (Yeah, right.) Desperately trying to win her back, I told her what she told me -- to deal with problems without hurting anyone else, and I offered to be the friend who would be there for her. She replied back pleading that she's too tired to deal with this now, that if I really wanted to be a friend, I would wait for her to speak to me again. She said it was her last message to me, and that she won't respond to me anymore until then.

My initial reaction was shock that she wouldn't even return the favor of trying, and that she would dare tell me to wait for her as it would delay the process of grieving some more. I felt it wasn't fair that she has college which possibly helped her move on and to gain better perspective.

We've only been friends for eight months, and I'm still heartbroken on week five. Not only have I lost someone whom I connected with more so than others, I'm also guilt-ridden for being an asshole to her because I couldn't stop being infatuated with her, and that she did not return the favor of trying to maintain the friendship like I had. I read her blog sometimes too, and it's so heartbreaking to see her going through tough times battling bulimia and that I can't be there for her.

As I'm typing this now, my eyes are tearing up and my thoughts are still jumbled up. What is the right thing to do for me? How do I make peace with this?

Help me navigate my crisis of meaning

Anonymous — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 06:35:04 -0800

Help me navigate my crisis of meaning Ever since I turned 32, I have suffered a crisis of meaning. I feel like I’m treading water, breathing through my days, waiting for my life to begin. Only I don’t know what my new life looks like, and I cannot even catch glimpses of it. My bones ache to have children, and I set my life up to have children at this age, but they are not an option for me right now, as I’m single and single women in my country cannot adopt. I am not strong enough to foster, to be loving and losing children. And so I must make an alternate life while I wait for the life I think I know will satisfy me to begin.

Only nothing feels enough. It just doesn’t feel meaningful. I have gotten to the stage where I feel that if I can’t have children (a.k.a. find meaning, a purpose, a personally compelling reason to live, something bigger than myself to believe in and give myself over to in entirety) I would rather consider extinguishing my flame. But then I wonder at the selfishness of my desires! Who do I think I am that I can bring a child into this world to give my life meaning, a purpose, and so on? And who do I think I am that I think I have the right to set my own expiry date without a thought for the people who love me? When it comes down to it, who is anyone to purposefully bring another person to life, cast them into the world, bring them into being because they want “them”? I am at odds with the world, and myself and can’t find a reason to believe in my future.

During my twenties, I tried to outrun myself after a very verbally abusive relationship of four years during which I lived with my ex. Running was pleasurable in many ways. I moved to the other side of the world and lived in London for six years. I backpacked solo to many countries, and threw myself into each experience, seeking out the truth with my camera so that I would never feel alone. I also partied very hard, and drank until I blacked out every weekend when I wasn't travelling. I didn’t have a degree, something I felt terribly ashamed of, and so I also worked exceptionally hard on creating a career where I could write for a living (which I did.) Life was not always rosy, but I was constantly distracted. Then I thought it was time to return home, to start a family, to put down roots with my own family again.

I like being home, I like the comparative quality of life, and I like that even though my family live many hours away, we are living in the same country again. But during the two and a half years I have been home, l have travelled abroad twice in a rather desperate bid to distract myself from my growing crisis of meaning. Both times I seized the experience with a new kind of daring. I lived like there was no tomorrow because I didn’t care if I died. Not in a suicidal way, or even a numb way, but in a “whatever” way. During my teens I was suicidal, which prevented me from making friends in high school, but after years of psychotherapy and meds that is well behind me. This is different. It’s a lackadaisical disrespect for my life, as if I am willing to push myself as deeply as I can to feel as deeply as I can, and in many ways I am daring myself to die. For example when I am at home I carelessly cross roads, sometimes I just walk out in front of cars on less busy roads, and mentally challenge (warped, I know) them to stop in time.

In the past year I backpacked solo through third world countries and felt intensely alive, just as I always do when I travel, but I took very few precautions, so I was often “high” on fear. I also feel alive when I travel because it’s not real life, it’s not my real life, I have no responsibilities, and most of the time I’m so intent on surviving that I don’t have to think about my existence, I just “do.” I’m operating on pure instinct and puzzling over seeming trivialities such as how to post a letter. More travel appeals to me as an escape, and a means to define myself (people seem inordinately impressed by others who pay for a plane ticket, board a plane and wander around another country.) But it’s not what I truly want. It’s a fun diversion for me, but it’s not my meaning. If I were to move abroad again or travel again for a long period of time I would be putting off the inevitable self-reckoning, as I have done for a decade or more, and would soon come face-to-face with myself again.

Career wise I have scaled back to part-time hours in a bid to find meaning. I abhor the pointlessness and falseness of the corporate world, so tried working for a charity to find meaning, but I could not. Unfortunately, I felt more unnecessary than ever pushing paper in a rich world, completely disconnected to the people who needed help, while observing political infighting that prevented even the simplest things from being done in a timely manner. I also undertook training for a crisis phone line, but due to my crisis of meaning, it only exasperated it. So now two days a week I write my novel in order to one day be truly seen and known (I love writing stories but those are the reasons I wish to be read by others). Only it is a slow process, and a rather emotionally gruelling process, and it bothers me that I am not grateful that I can do this two weekdays every week. I spend many hours in tears, wondering when my real life will begin (ridiculous, I know.) It feels more like a breakthrough than a breakdown, but I am impatient to emerge from the ashes, and fearful that I won’t.

I live by myself, and have found it difficult making new friends since I have returned home. I had no friends before I went abroad, as I had only my ex-boyfriend. I have a few acquaintances, but find it hard to deepen the relationships. I am also naturally quiet and reserved which I personally don’t mind now, but others sometimes seem to. I used to drink myself into oblivion each weekend because it allowed me to come across as sociable and meant I could effectively wipe out two days of the week, but I gave up drinking a year ago as I was tired of embarrassing myself. I am now trying to be authentic at all times and finding it quite exhausting getting by without a crutch. I feel naked and long to have a partner or close friend by my side to walk into a room of people with! I avoid going to social events by myself if there are groups of people present, such as workmates, as I feel overwhelmed by the effort required to socialise with so many people for so long. I do however go to classes and art galleries and lunches and dinners and all such events where I am only required to talk to a few people at a time.

When it comes to love, I long for the comfortable love that comes after romantic love, and I would like nothing more than to meet a best friend whom I could love for the rest of my life. But the only way I have been able to fall for men in the past is if we have been friends first, for quite some time, and I don’t have any male friends! Internet dating I found soul destroying. I have closed myself off and I don’t know how to open up again.

How can I open up my heart? How can I stop feeling that my life is meaningless? How can I stop feeling the urge to run? How can I stop daring myself to die? I realise this forum isn't a substitute for therapy, but I'm interested in your responses.

Is there help for people who suck at helping themselves?

Anonymous — Fri, 03 Oct 2008 10:13:16 -0800

Angst and melancholy aside, I persistently fear that I will never be able to happily integrate into society. I know I need help, but I can’t figure out how to overcome my negative emotions and in succumbing to them I only feed into my cycle of avoidance and disappointment. I live in a state of persistent flight response. The depressive lethargy that accompanies this anxiety only worsens the problem. It has taken a long time for me to understand the avoidant urges I experience as anxiety. Basic functional tasks have become drawn out, painful exercises in will. Mustering the energy to overcome an irrational fear of showering can take half the day. Yet I know that I feel energized and happy when I am clean and comfortable. I’m not afraid of the shower – I think I subconsciously fear being rejected or negatively judged in spite of my efforts to adhere to social norms. I experience the same process whether I want to buy groceries or do my class work. It is hard to describe, but I am regularly overtaken by an intense “scrunched up” feeling, as if there were a black hole in my chest about to implode my limbs and body. I have had a very moderate amount of success overcoming this by telling myself that the worst case scenario is better than the outcome of avoiding the situation/activity that stimulated the fear. How can I approach this subconscious mechanism so that I may understand the reasons I respond the way I do and effectively change my behavior?

At the same time, I consciously reject many of the principles that direct modern society. I am not religious, I believe in the spirit of capitalism but am appalled by the excess and irresponsibility of our consumption oriented culture, I would rather make someone happy than make a profit. To be concise, I love humanity but am overwhelmed by society. I fear that even if I successfully finish my studies and find a productive role within society that any good I am able to accomplish will be outweighed by my taking of a functional role within a civilization that values punishment over forgiveness, wealth over health, and violence before understanding. I’m not okay with that on a deeply existential level. It’s hard for me to accept that in order to meet the expectations of society I must condone some level of morally reprehensible actions.

I also need grief counseling. My mom was diagnosed three years ago with terminal cancer, and while she’s alive and doing well I cannot avoid the ticking time-bomb of reality. I spent a long time helping my mom through her initial treatment and have grown closer to her. But the topics of death or cancer are usually enough to set me off. I can’t handle it now – what can I do to maintain some dignity and respect when things finally go pear shaped? In truth, I am writing this because I encountered the topic of death in my studies and couldn’t bring myself to do the related work. Though I have experienced anxiety throughout my life, I suspect my response to my mother’s illness has exacerbated the problem. If I were to rate my emotional stability, I would say that I am less stable today -- more prone to outbursts of anger, fear or sadness – but the actual presence of negative emotions is not significantly greater than my historical baseline.

Understanding that I hardly qualify as a functional human, how can I overcome my subconscious perceptions and become a productive member of society? I need friends and social support, but I am very isolated. I am going to give pharmaceuticals a chance, but I haven’t come to terms with the fact that I may need to pay for a magic substance to “fix” the way my brain functions. There is something sick and twisted about paying to pharmacologically manipulate my neurochemistry so that I can functionally exist within a consumption oriented society so I can have enough money to pay for my pills so I can maintain a job so I can buy more crap ad infinitum.

Is there a support group or some form of social assistance for people like me? I just want to be happy and productive. I want to have the energy to read a book, keep my house clean, and maintain friendships. I am sick of this miasmatic angst that clouds my perception and prevents me from achieving a functional existence. Your thoughts and suggestions will be appreciated. I've set up a throwaway email account if you wish to contact me.

communal apartment laundries...making you hate laundry even more since 2008

sararah — Fri, 09 May 2008 19:34:19 -0800

The communal washing machines in my apartment building are worthless. They don't remove any sort of stain or spill, regardless of solubility or severity. When I remove the wet clothes from the washer, nasty stripes and splotches of lint cover my clothes (especially obvious on darks). Is there a specific complaint I can make to my landlord, or should I just give up and go to a laundromat? I can't believe I have to pay $1 per wash for these totally worthless machines. I use liquid Tide Coldwater (and wash in cold, always) and currently it is the "old" Tide that is not super concentrated, so I would say I use about 1/3-1/2 cup per wash. I try not to overload the washers, and I usually fill the tub partially before loading. Based on the results below, is there a specific complaint I can make to my landlord? I don't just want to call and say "the washers suck, fix them..." I feel my unresponsive property management might be a little more on the ball if they knew what the problem was. (And no, I don't think I'll be trying to do all my laundry in the bathtub)

Some examples of the laundry awesomeness:

-Just last the other night I attempted to wash a pair of khaki pants with small splotches of whipping cream on them. I poured a little detergent on them and rubbed the pants together near the spots in an attempt to pre-treat...not only did the spots not come out completely, today in the sunshine I noticed a huge spot that was lighter in color where the detergent did not completely rinse out.

-My mom tossed a few of my clothes in the wash when I was home visiting, and had to wash them twice because they had so much soap residue left in them.

-I pretreated a stain with some Stain Stick (the deodorant-like gelly stuff) and the frickin' Stain Stick didn't even wash out. I had to rinse out the garment in the sink.

-Since I line dry ~3/4 of my clothes the white lint crap stays stuck to my shirt and is especially nasty on dark shirts.

-Stupid crazy bizatches that live downstairs complain when I remove their laundry because they left the washer unattended for an hour while they had an "important phone call" and felt the need to be all dramatic and scream and me about it and proceed to re-wash their husband's clothes. (Well, that's probably out of the scope of this question, but it just adds to my LAUNDRY ANGST)

Needless to say, I was quite depressed this weekend when visiting a married friend's new house and seeing her brand spankin' new LG front loading machines....forget the yard, I just want a washer that works!!

No olvidarse de mí

phrits — Sun, 02 Mar 2008 21:15:50 -0800

Seeking quality Spanish language young adult or youth fiction, in its original language, way cool if it has one or more of science fiction/fantasy, coming of age, teen angst, or subjects parents usually have difficulty discussing with their offspring. I'm trying to learn Spanish. Again. Still. I've had several scattered years of public school classes; tried a few books, tapes, and combinations; make a half-hearted attempt to do word-of-the-day things; y otras cosas. American, in my early 40s, I'm probably about 10% literate--reading--without a dictionary at hand, (wildly!) variably 30%-80% with.

The logistics of immersion preclude that approach indefinitely. Second choice, just as with learning my native tongue: Read like hell.

I'm not ready for untranslated Marquez. I am interested in youth-targeted content. I like quality science fiction and fantasy, but Harry Potter en español would probably be a rerun with blurred subtitles.

Authors, series, sites, or whatever makes sense. I expect amazon.com has everything I'd want, but I've not found it through their search capability.

Anyway, I know all that's hugely specific, but I'd be glad for partial leads. My almost parallel music search--while less fruitful than I'd like--has actually been worth the effort, so I'm up for a poorly marked trail.

Very short nonconsensual sexual activity: confused, upset, guilty, anxious, please advise!

Anonymous — Mon, 14 Jan 2008 20:54:27 -0800

I had a bad, less than entirely consensual sexual experience that I'm confused about and having difficulty moving past. I'm hoping for insight about resolving this and moving on, because it's causing me some anxiety and I want to feel good about my sexuality. Sorry for the length!

I'm a woman in my late twenties. I haven't and don't want to talk about this with anybody out loud. I feel a bit too stupid and I didn't want it to be important. But I can't let go and I can't seem to process any more on my own, even if it is silly.

About four months ago, I was starting to 'fool around' with a guy I had just started seeing. It was actually really good. I told him that I didn't want to have sex and he agreed. Not ten minutes later, he subtly moved from fingering me to putting his penis into me. At first I didn't even realize what he was doing, which is weird for me believe now! I don't know, I was just into things and I couldn't *see* what he was doing, and I didn't want to think he'd do that. I realized, but by the time I sat up and pulled away, I'm pretty sure he'd been all the way in.

I was really upset. I got up and started getting dressed. He seemed upset too and wanted to talk about it and kept saying how 'he was sorry, and he was just so into it, he was sorry, don't leave, wouldn't I come back, he was sorry'.

And I went back! It *had* been good and it was good after. I thought I explained how upsetting it was, and that he got it, and that it was fine. I fooled around with him once after that, and even saw him a couple more times before things fizzled out.

I feel dumb for going back! It was really upsetting! I've had sex with one man before this, and I've messed around with plenty of guys over the years, and nothing like this has *ever* happened to me before. I told him, I *said* I didn't want his penis inside me.

I wish I'd just walked away. I feel like I should have known better, should have known to give myself the distance to process what happened before deciding about going back to bed with him. But I wanted it to feel good again, I wanted it to not be a big deal, I wanted to not feel raped.

Did I have sex with him? I didn't want to have sex him. I planned not to have sex with him. But he had his penis in me. I don't want this to be sex with him, I don't want to have had sex with him.

I wish I'd never went out with him. He was a friend (but not close) of friends, who warned me that he went after a lot of women and was sort of a player, or at least a wannabe player. I'd just been dating someone who said 'I love you' on the third date... I wanted easy. I thought he would be easy. I feel so dumb for not listening to my friends!

I wish I wasn't so hung up on the traditional definition of sex, which intellectually I criticize, but I guess emotionally it still means something to me, and for me there is a difference between, well, penis-in-vagina sex and other forms of sexual gratification. I wanted to have more experience and a greater sense of familiarity with him before that.

But I keep thinking about it and I can't get away from that it SEEMS like it WAS nonconsensual sex. I don't even want it to be sex at all! And when I think about it, I feel dumb, so dumb, and gross, yucky, guilty, anxious. I don't want to have slept with him. I don't know why but that's so important to me.

I've always had such good sexual experiences before (and I KNOW, I KNOW how incredibly lucky that makes me). Sex/uality was just *fun* and good and pleasurable. I haven't been in a sexual situation with a guy since then, and I noticed that I feel more, I don't know, reticent? wary? than I used to.

I know that as bad sexual experiences go, this is practically nothing, and I should and do still feel pretty lucky. But I'm still chewing on it and I want it to be gone!

Please, I would love to hear insight and experience and advice. What happened? Did I have sex with him? Does it matter? How do I get it out of my head? I want to make it not a big deal.

I wanted to be anonymous so I understand if other people do too, I made an e-mail address: questionsregrets@gmail.com

Thank you!

midlife crisis?

InkaLomax — Sat, 24 Nov 2007 11:47:09 -0800

Recommended reading for midlife crisis/moral quandary? I am having persistent misgivings about my place in the world. I have spent most of my life avoiding issues that cause me discomfort. I try to do no harm and for most of my life that has been enough. Now I am overwhelmed at the state of the world; my country, my job and how little I have done to change anything for the better.
I alternate between wanting to retreat and to join and work for change.
It has manifested as a mild anxiety, not quite depression.
Can anyone recommend any reading that might help direct me.

Fresno? Ono!

scrump — Thu, 01 Jun 2006 19:54:24 -0800

Help me figure out whether I can live in Fresno. I'm considering taking a paramedic internship in Fresno this fall (August/September timeframe) for several months, and I know next to nothing about Fresno except as a place I drive through.

I'm 34, married, with a kid, and the wife and kid would be staying back home in the San Francisco Bay Area while I flew solo in Fresno.

My questions include but aren't limited to:

What are the "nice parts of town" in Fresno, specifically in terms of living conditions?
What are Fresno's cultural attractions (museums, etcetera)?
How much time can I expect to spend on the road "commuting" back home from Fresno?

How can I learn to stop worrying and love the dentist?

Anonymous — Wed, 16 Nov 2005 09:35:45 -0800

Help me not be terrified of the dentist. I know plenty of other questions like this have floated across Ask MeFi before, but I think my case is probably unique. Or at least I'd like to think so.

I'm 22 years old. By my own admission, I take pretty bad care of my teeth; generally I brush once a day, in the morning, but on weekends or vacations or other occasions where I don't have class (or some other thing that I have a routine in preparation for) I tend to slack off and not bother. Also, I don't floss. Ever. (The hygienist at my most recent dentist visit a few months ago actually recommended against it due to the current state of my mouth.)

The first time I ever saw a dentist was when I was in sixth grade, which is about 10 years ago now. I had to have some fillings (which wasn't too bad) and then in a visit a few months after the first, a root canal. Except for an abortive attempt at a tooth-cleaning a few months ago, I haven't been back since.

I say "abortive" because they had barely cleaned one tooth before I wussed out. The tooth-scraping and gum-poking and blowing-air-on-my-teeth was too much for me to take. (I realize much of the discomfort was likely because my teeth and gums are in shambles from not having seen a dentist in a decade.)

I told the hygienist who was cleaning my teeth that I was extremely uncomfortable, couldn't stand the scraping, etc. (I'm sure I had a white-knuckle grip on the armrests, and I know she kept having to ask me to open my mouth wider because I kept trying to close it, probably because I wanted to reflexively grind my teeth in terror or something.) She stopped and got the dentist, who made a cursory examination of my mouth, told me it was in pretty bad shape but there was still hope, and furthermore told me that we could reschedule my appointment for another time and they'd use novocaine the next time (although it would actually end up taking two appointments because they can't numb my entire mouth at once). This is the option I chose, of course, but obviously I haven't been back or I wouldn't be making this post now.

Injecting my gums with novocaine is all they're willing to do. I asked them; they will not gas me, nor will they prescribe me any drugs. I'm afraid that local anaesthetic will not be enough, because I'm sure I'll still be able to feel the scraping resonating through my skull, a sensation which I found incredibly unpleasant the first time around, and even if I can't feel it, I'll still be incredibly anxious, because I'm not a real big fan of needles either (though I'd definitely choose getting a shot over seeing the dentist; too bad I'd be getting both in this case).

I guess basically my questions are thus:
Should I see if another dentist will drug me, or should I try to face my fear without the aid of pharmaceuticals? If the latter, what can I do to ameliorate the mix of sheer and utter terror and dread that a visit to the dentist (let alone the actual procedure) fills me with? And how can I make myself be less slack about taking care of my teeth?