677 - A New Past

It began with a dental appointment on Tuesday. I saw my X-ray photos on the screen: I have over 12 crowns in my mouth, three bridges, and almost all teeth have had a root canal; my front teeth are not my natural teeth but are three crowns forming a bridge. I am scared daily of accidentally cracking one of the roots so I would have to replace them with implants. These are X-ray photos that would alarm a seasoned dentist. If it were in the US and such an outcome were to happen to a teenager or young adult, someone needs to be in jail. My first dentist once asked me how did I come to this stage, I did not know what to answer; there are only so many things I can blame my parents for, and I am way beyond the phase for that. I know people with much greater difficulties or ailments, and what I am facing is only a fraction of theirs. But I could not take it. I am 31, and in a few years, I will have to replace many teeth with implants. It’s January, and I have already maxed out the insurance allowance for this year. Besides financial liability, every visit to the dentist is to re-traumatize me; the doctor will pass out the sentences to a crime that I, to a large extent, did not commit. I had one root canal retreatment on Tuesday because of a reinfection after the previous treatment, then a dental filling in the afternoon, and another root canal retreatment on Thursday. During the retreatment today, the doctor had to drill through my dental crown and vibrate out the post with ultrasonic. In the middle, I started crying, and the doctor was upset even if I told her it’s not due to the procedure. I couldn’t take it. Out of the building, I started crying in my car. At some point, the insurance is going to bounce, and I don’t have enough in my HSA to cover the rest.

What I had been through were three surreal days that I am still in the midst of. I have been to low points of my life but I didn’t know that I could have gone this low. I am only at the beginning of my 30s. Looking forward, I see a minefield of triggers, how am I to be strong enough for them? The dental appointment was only a trigger of the underlying deep grief that I was thus far able to hide but could no longer. I wish I could say it out loud that I will get better, but I am not strong enough for that; people who had been through much greater hardships are stronger than me. I knew that this would not remain forever, but what I needed was knowing that I know it.

In the culture I was raised in, life was very inappropriately likened to a race, a sprint perhaps. Going with that, from the get-go I had been running backward for the first 19 years and then turned around painfully, facing a horizon that had since forever been tainted with grief and even resentment. I have missed the scenery that I should be seeing when I was much younger; the road is steep and feels perpendicular at times. I have made the decision to turn around out of my own will against the cultural backdrop that continues to suck me backward. There can be no rest: if I ever stop climbing and reaching for the next grip with all I have, I fall. I dare not look back because it’s all blackness; there had not been a single happy memory in the first 19 years of my life that I have leaned on to, and of course, all the struggles started at age 19. Have I at various points convinced myself that I have come thus far in my life and I have done honorably with what I have, and feel peaceful to let go? If all of the past was there for me to overcome and emerge stronger, would I still want to emerge after all? If God was to make a point using my life, what point could that be? Would it even be worthwhile?

I may not be blessed with strong enough faith yet, but I am blessed with a group of friends that came into my life at various points along my journey, who continuously surprised me with their availability given the extent of help they have already rendered in the past. C, E, B, S, M, Princess Rachel, Y, E, V, R, M, and of course, my mom, you are going to be the reason I will go on. I know that all the time we have spent together will one day forge me a new past. It cannot end like this, I know. I believe that God would not write a flat story, and even if it were to be flat, I am bending it anyway. It must mean more than what I have already accomplished. It must mean more. And what comes after must be something beautiful. I did not come to this country only to make a good living, to make money and start a family. Those will come, I believe. But I am dreaming much bigger. I come here not only to heal from the past but to build a future with a brightness in exponential proportion to what I have suffered. I come here to grow from a small reservoir to an ocean and to help others become an ocean. This will be my American Dream. I am increasingly aware of my strength besides that I am smart. First, I am a born leader; I have essential qualities; I am compassionate, just, and I am willing to put the need of others over myself; during the salsa class where there were 7 ladies and 5 guys, when matching for partners, I would blurt out that “I will lead”; and besides all of these, I am extremely resilient. Second, I have a capacity for love. The world needs people like me, and if time allows, I will build an organization with such a promise that would not only justify but also necessitate everything. I would have no regret and not only want what is, what was, but want the same life over and over and “shouting insatiably da capo” (Nietzsche, BGE).