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Hello Anxiety, My Partner in Bed! A Note on My Teeth Grinding

“You’re doing it again!” the disgruntled boyfriend would mutter, wresting my jaw apart. “It’s time to get help!”

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It started innocuously. Like a tarantula that sneaks up on you in the middle of the night. (Alright, so maybe innocuous isn’t the right word.) Let’s call it like it is – it started like the devil hissing hellfire or, more accurately – as my boyfriend so benevolently chose to put it – like Terminator grinding someone to dust.

I was found one night grinding my teeth.

It wasn’t a big deal, I thought, as I simultaneously tried to push it out of my head and prise my teeth apart. My jaw felt like the literal rock in a game of rock-paper-scissors. I thought nothing else of it.

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