The orthodontist put a rotation wedge in the bottom row of one of my teeth to speed up the turning a tooth that persists in its original crooked roots instead of turning to be straight with its partners.
Immediately I felt the strain of my tooth fighting against the wires and wedge that were pushing against the bones of my mouth to move this crooked tooth.
Within two hours the soreness made eating pita and hummus a painful task.
My trips to San Diego are a rotation wedge.
I go there because I need to see my orthodontist, my psychiatrist, my therapist, and yesterday my dentist.
My orthodontist and my therapist. My rotation wedges.
They are working separately to help me straighten my life--and when this work is done I will be done with monthly San Diego visits.
Three to six months remain for the teeth. This gifts me with three to six visits to the therapist as well; since I'll be there, I might as well check in with someone who knows the piles I have plowed through over the last two years, to see how we think I am moving onward.
And so I consider changing my blog title to "looking for love in Los Angeles." Whom must I love? Me. Ironically, the one person I have traveled with throughout the years and miles is the one person I have never been enamored of the way I have treasured friends, lovers, family, acquaintances. Some of them have been so wonderful, so wounded, so workable, but me... I have been so worthless and worrisome.
Rotate, rotate, rotate.
Turn to self-care, self-love, self-strength.
Re-visiting San Diego washes me with the memory and longing of so much there that is past. Much of a past I must rotate away from, instead of staring at the scars and remembering where I got them and why they are there.
That's the only problem with going back--the swirling of those memories that can so easily just pull and drown me in all that is imaginary.
Rotate from what I am not.
Rotate from my imaginary friends. (real people, imagined closeness)
Rotate toward what is real and free and open and still.
Rotate toward my real friends--like Kristen and our so fun dinner in San Diego. Rotate toward my real therapist, instead of that LA quack. Rotate toward the good.