I think I'm cursed
So I got my wisdom teeth removed. It wasn't anywhere near as big a deal as I'd made it out to be, just like everyone had said. The worst part was actually just the IV, and by the time it was in me, the laughing gas had me to the point where I didn't really care. I was numb. Actually, they even put me under, which I wasn't expecting, and neither was my family.. though that isn't to say I didn't appreciate it. Three of my wisdom teeth were already erupted, or pushed up out of the gums like normal teeth, but the fourth was completely sideways. I was pretty fortunate, since the erupted teeth came out just like any other tooth would, and they didn't prove a problem at all. The last tooth, my lower right one, had to be removed by an incision in my gums. Before the operation began, I was told that a very small part of my jaw would have to be removed as well.. but it turns out that didn't have to happen after all. When I finally woke up, I was back home.. I spent the next couple of days drifting in and out of sleep, watching TV, and thinking. Eventually I felt well enough to get on the computer and goof around, but I didn't have anyone to talk to, and I wasn't in the mood for games, so I thankfully decided to try and learn something. I turned to writing, and scoured the net for a few tips on technique before actually trying my hand at anything. I didn't get a whole lot of actual writing done, but I'm glad I did it all the same. I do realize that I don't separate anything by paragraph in my entries, but it's not a big deal.. this is just rambling, and talking, so separating ideas isn't really an issue since rambling isn't often organized. Anyway, I woke up and discovered that I had small red marks all over my chest.. my father recently had poison ivy, so I guessed that I had been afflicted. After consulting with my mother on the issue, I came to discover it wasn't poison ivy.. so I went to the doctor with my brother, who is sick right now. I'm inspected, and diagnosed with pityriasis. Pityriasis is, as I was told, a non-contagious, inflammatory skin disorder that affects the torso. It's like a faint rash, and can last from 5 weeks to 4 fucking months. All it does is itch every now and then.. that's it, that's all the disorder does. I'm grateful that it's a ridiculously harmless disorder, but I'm going to be stuck with it for a while.. so I'll have small red spots on me for some time. Hooray. On to other things.. I think I'm changing again, and I'm pushing for it to be a good change, and by pushing I mean that I'm actually making an effort. I think that I have a fear of failure, I've thought about all the artistic projects I've tried to do but never really finished, even if I had a strong desire to do them at first. Things like writing, or art are abstract in that they don't have any definite process, while science and math most often do. Two plus two is four, I succeeded in solving this problem.. I didn't stop in the middle, I didn't question myself or try and abandon it because there was a specific structure to it that I'm aware of. I started a lot of drawings a long time ago, but never really finished very many.. that's almost as bad as failing, maybe even worse, but it's not a literal failure. I started writing poems or stories with the same results. I'm almost certain I have a fear of failure, and the only way to really do anything about it is to just face it, and I'm going to try. I've also decided to start applying for jobs again as soon as I can, and I'm going to speak with my parents about furthering my formal education. I think the next semester starts in January, but I'm not sure. I'll have to be serious about it though, which means sacrificing some time with friends, and with myself.. but I actually think that's okay now. I don't need people to congratulate me on anything yet, though. I need them to give me a little slack, and be happy and hopeful for me.. but at the same time hold back a little, and keep an eye on me, maybe be a little doubtful. I'd really like them to keep an open mind on trusting me, even if I'm not the worthiest person of something like that. Things noteably went downhill right after I broke up with Amy. I used to think I was numb, that numb was just how I was, and that was that. I think now that I wasn't ever really numb, but I was scared. Numb is what I was at the oral surgeon's office. If I was numb, it wouldn't have hurt so much when Amy referred to how I felt about her with the word love in quotes, or when she decided that she might want to just go ahead and date someone to get over me. If I was numb, I wouldn't have made the decision to break up with her in the first place. I think that I was scared. I think that I've kept an easygoing attitude because I was scared to really get involved in anything. I know now that I broke up with Amy because the relationship was asking for something rather serious, and I was afraid to get that involved and to really make a personal commitment. I think that I hate myself for it now, and I know that I was being stupid. I think that I want to get back together with her. I think that I'm finally thinking, and not just relying on intuition, or sitting down and watching things pass me by. I started this entry with the wrong title, and I'm not quite so sad anymore, though I did cry. I don't know what the title should be now, but I'm feeling refreshed, among other things.