Somehow by accident, I misplaced pride upon my horrible disgusting mouth.  It happened a while ago without me noticing, right around the time I decided to do something about it, and created a light at the end of my ugly mouth tunnel.  Since I’ve been thinking about how bad my teeth are, I’ve felt the need to tell others.  Things nobody wants to hear.

I am a man writing towards a book on the power of the smile, and I have none of my own. I am not like the sad clown who’s makeup keeps him sad, but rather my very happiest full effort smile, is a flat lime without opening lips.  I don’t smile.

I never like pictures of me.  In them, my mouth is always closed, and that shows less happiness.  Other people may not light up in my presence without showing teeth.  This period in my history will always show me as – not sad.  I’m not frowning, but my smile is a straight closed lip line.   In the rare pictures wher I may have a happy open mouth smile, I see the yellow ugliness that is my teeth.  Not better.

White teeth are all the rage now.  50 products exist to help whiten your smile, and any Dentist will take your money.  Well, not my money.  Mine is beyond that trick.  Hollywood and TV have taught us everyone has a nice white toothy perfect smile, now even more than when I was young.  Even 39 day old island “Survivors” wearing dirty handkerchiefs as clothes have clean white teeth.

I know it to be true for myself, but I suspect everyone is effected by a good smile.  Smile alone almost gave one survivor her deserved million.

I have been talking way to much about my elephant tusks in the room. I have been dreaming nightmares of esteem of how people feel about my smile and teeth based mostly on how much I personally am effected, both by a smile and equally by an ugly… Or to honest, even a slightly flawed smile. I literally FEEL a great smile, and am distracted and bothered by an imperfect smile.  I have a few friends with poor smiles, but NONE like mine.  I have a hobo smile.  I can’t honestly believe everyone isn’t bothered by it.  Looking at me while I talk must be hard.

I will soon have the life change, of false teeth.  Not as some suggested, fake prop fangs, but full old fashioned top and bottom dentures.

I am torn between the optimistic belief that it will be something I adapt to, rather that live the rest of my life in painful regret.  I would hate having a beautiful smile that drove me crazy with pain or discomfort.  I have hope they’ll be great, and simultaneously fear they’ll be horrible.  I am stressed. I imagine both positive and negative futures post dentures.  Doing nothing is no longer an option, but it does have the advantage of not risking a worse future.  However, now doing nothing means a worse future with pain and new teeth falling out.  It’s not an option. 

It it goes well, I get a new smile and those I know will adapt as if I was wearing a toupee everyone knew about. 　I will look better to the new.  The best I can hope for is not to be worthy of odd stares or distraction to my friends.  I know it will be an odd adjustment visually, but that isn’t the real fear. The real fear is that they’ll hurt, or be loose, or just feel horrible.  My mouth is a very important part of my happiness.  It crushes my food and helps me taste.  If it hurts, it’ll be hard to ignore.  Chronic pain for the rest of my life is a real fear.

The dark side assures me it wont be paradise. Pain, bleeding and swelling and a loose fit that might need goo. I hate goo. I have lived my life trying my best to avoid it.

It could take me mentally, a very long time to recover. I may actually not be ready for July 16

Or ever. I have written before of depression based on self loathing or just low self esteem.

I am hoping, but scared to take the risk. This is a serious surgery that will change my life, and the part that is scary is I am the one who’s running my own ship. 　It could be bad.

I’m brought up that way. I always see the bad.