Yes, I Know There’s Nothing in My Teeth!

Posted: October 9, 2012 in Self-Deprecation
Tags: , , ,

Yes, my sweet little digitized denizens, you get a twofer today!  Well, that’s not entirely true, yesterday’s edition was mostly done– I just didn’t finish the edits before midnight.  So, is this going to be an issue about dental hygiene?  Nope.  This one’s gonna be devoted to the funny shit that the human body does to cope with stress.   I’m not talking about things the human psyche does to actively mitigate the desire to indiscriminately wring necks– at least not this time.  I have enough posts dedicated to alcoholic avocations…

For years, I’ve been a compulsive knuckle cracker.  You know the type, the ones that sound like a walking Rice Krispy Treat and they aren’t walking across bubble wrap.  Bored?  Crack each individual knuckle, sometimes twice.  Stressed?  Crack-snapple-pop.  Idle hands?  Not now!  Granted, as my age has advanced (much to my dismay), I’ve also moved on to popping my neck/back/elbows/wrists/knees/ankles…  pretty much any joint that can garner temporary relief (often at the disgust of those in earshot) is fair game to me many times over during the course of a normal day.  I haven’t had a “normal” day since June 4, when I signed on to this company.

Become the Gear...

Welcome to the Machine…

So yeah, I’m no stranger to stress.  I’m no stranger to being under pressure.  I can handle my body’s usual responses to being on the verge of channeling Wayne Brady to choke a bitch.  In the past, shit, here’s a short list of common and/or bizarre stress reactions I’ve dealt with:  migraines, insomnia, hives (that one was a bitch), gastrointestinal “issues” (too damn early in the day for poop humor), depression, anxiety, facial/ocular twitches…  so far, fairly standard stuff, right?

Here’s where shit gets twisted:  I’m developing nervous tics, well above and beyond the knuckle cracking.  First and foremost, I’ve developed this weird thing where I’m constantly sucking at the backs of my teeth at a particle of food that I know full well isn’t there.  This isn’t intermittent either, on the hour drive to Edinboro for Homecoming–  Cortana thought I actually got some of dinner stuck in my teeth.  No, sweetheart, that’s just my arthritic grip on sanity holding on like a boss.  As for the rest of you, kindly keep the oral fixation jokes and the suck jokes to yourselves–  I’ve already thought of them and laughed at my own expense.  On the upside, I never do have anything stuck in my teeth anymore… well, except for leftover sarcasm.

I’ve also taken to digging a nail into my right thumb.  Now, this may seem fairly innocuous compared to the rest, but I’m apparently picking and digging to a point where I have a callous right along the inner crease of the joint.  One that I repeatedly have to cut off or tear off.  As if the constant cracking and sucking (that sounds so wrong) wasn’t annoying enough, I have this tertiary little gem.  Here I thought I was a stress machine, one that I thought ate stress for breakfast.  Apparently it’s lunchtime and stress is back on the menu, ladies and gents!  Who wants seconds?  And don’t get me started on how stupidly fast I’m going grey– and we’re not talking 50 Shades of Giggity kind either.  I’m gonna look like a curly-haired Anderson Cooper before I’m 35.

All of this I can deal with, but the newest reaction is dangerous: hallucinations.  Now, I know what you’re thinking, and no–  I don’t need a nap or a rubberized room.  I would totally like both, in case you were wondering.

Winter attire?

And no, I don’t have one of these…. yet.

There are positively no hallucinogenic compounds in my system, and I swear I’m not inordinately sleep depraved.  Yes, I realize exactly what I said there, it was intentional.  In college, I’d once gone 67 hours straight without sleep.  Believe you me, I know what hallucinating is, and the best way to shut up the auditory ones is to crank up your music louder.  The visual ones though…  Those are a different beast entirely.  In fact, these things I’m seeing actually qualify as beasts.  Oh the entertaining ways your mutinous body can force synapses to misfire, causing you to trip balls….

Let me back up– the last few times I’ve gone into sleep deprivation to the point of seeing things that I knew full well weren’t there, I’ve seen shadows leisurely skulk across the wall with nothing to cast them, and other (more textbook) hallucinations of shadow people.  Granted, the first few times I saw those things– even knowing they were a direct result of boycotting sleep– they freaked me right the Hell out.  As in so freaked out, I immediately jumped into bed, flipped off the offending imaginary friend, and covered my head like a 5 year old hiding from the monster in the closet.  Yes, I’ve been sleep deprived enough times to not be tweaked out by such things, so don’t judge me.

These things I’m seeing–  yeah, far more dangerous because I’m on the road, all the damn time…  I’m seeing shadow deer.   I am also getting 5-7 hours of sleep per night.  Usually.  And noooooo, I’m not on any fun drugs.

Anyone wanna start a pool on how long it takes for me to dismiss a shadow deer, only to realize that my front bumper has discovered that it’s real?

Unplug.

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Comments
  1. Hehe I can truly say it now… “WELCOME TO MY WORLD!” lol

  2. Fred J Love says:

    Stress like that will kill you. No job is worth your life.

  3. Fred J Love says:

    You moderate comments? That’s quite wimpy.not what I’d expect from you.

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