I have a condition called temporomandibular disorder (TMD) which
basically means my jaw joints hate their JD. Symptoms include headaches,
popping, clicking, locking or limited movement of the jaw and
difficulty in opening mouth; making it painful to do simple tasks such
as chewing or yawning.
There are a variety of causes for TMD, such as
aging, tension or past injury however simple activities that most of us
don’t think about such as clenching and grinding of teeth and opening mouth too wide (ahem) can aid in its continuance. I’ve had it for a while and usually it’ll fix itself. Until this time, when it is refusing to go away.
So I consulted my go-to-physician (*cough* WebMD) and found that there
are different strategies that can be used to treat this including
medication, physiotherapy, massage and also behavioral change to stay
away from harmful everyday practices (such as yawning, of course).
On a path to self-healing, I started to consciously monitor when and what I was doing wrong so that I could fix it. Only then did I realize that I clench my jaws, all the frikking time.
Every day, every single time that I walk out into the streets of Dhaka, every second that I am not in the safety of four walls or a fast moving vehicle, I grit my teeth. My only defense mechanism against the obnoxious stares, the ugly words and the lewd hand gestures is clenching my jaw, knitting my eyebrows and wiping any sign of happiness off of my face. I put on my resting bitch face, look downwards and pretend that I have earmuffs on. In Baridhara, which apparently is the safest place in Dhaka right now, I cannot walk four blocks down the street without hearing a guard commenting on my ass, a driver telling me to put on a borqua, a RAB officer saying Nauzubillah to my face, a teenage boy calling out “uff ki piece!” or a group of four men vocally judging first my front and then my back assets as I walk past them (yes, all incidents are true and have occurred this month).
I’m telling you, I’m exhausted. I guess my disease has nothing on the infestation that my City suffers from.
#getwellsoon #Dhaka #everydaytrauma #PTSD #TMD #lifeandtimesofawomaninDhaka #safecitiesbecause #VAW
On a path to self-healing, I started to consciously monitor when and what I was doing wrong so that I could fix it. Only then did I realize that I clench my jaws, all the frikking time.
Every day, every single time that I walk out into the streets of Dhaka, every second that I am not in the safety of four walls or a fast moving vehicle, I grit my teeth. My only defense mechanism against the obnoxious stares, the ugly words and the lewd hand gestures is clenching my jaw, knitting my eyebrows and wiping any sign of happiness off of my face. I put on my resting bitch face, look downwards and pretend that I have earmuffs on. In Baridhara, which apparently is the safest place in Dhaka right now, I cannot walk four blocks down the street without hearing a guard commenting on my ass, a driver telling me to put on a borqua, a RAB officer saying Nauzubillah to my face, a teenage boy calling out “uff ki piece!” or a group of four men vocally judging first my front and then my back assets as I walk past them (yes, all incidents are true and have occurred this month).
I’m telling you, I’m exhausted. I guess my disease has nothing on the infestation that my City suffers from.
#getwellsoon #Dhaka #everydaytrauma #PTSD #TMD #lifeandtimesofawomaninDhaka #safecitiesbecause #VAW
