The title says it all! I am currently in the position where I am constantly having to remind myself that I’m an adult and can’t just hide in the corner, curled up in the fetal position- though that is very much what I would like to do most days. That or run away. I’m not picky; I think either one would do. Where to begin… Life kind of went off the rails for a bit in and around November. My son was having a hard time with peers bullying him on the bus and at school- along with the normal transition to high school. I won’t go into all the gory details, but I will just say that he now has half the alphabet in diagnoses- and they all circle around anxiety. When you deal with it yourself, it stinks- but seeing your child have to deal is a whole new level of awful. He is doing better, but it has been a long, sometimes painful, road for everyone. About a month after he was diagnosed, one of our daughters also went on medication for anxiety. This has been expected since she was diagnosed with Tourette’s Syndrome in fifth grade because anxiety goes hand in hand with that- but the timing wasn’t great. My husband jokes that we should turn the M&M dispenser I inherited from my grandparents into a Lexipro dispenser. That would be better for my waistline, I suppose- but I’ll get to that in a bit.
I wasn’t going to share any of this because my kids don’t need their business put out there for the world to see- and because I didn’t want people judging them (or, let’s be honest, me). However, there is nothing to be ashamed of- and that is what I have drilled into their heads! Also, I asked them. This is no different than being diagnosed with a chronic physical illness like diabetes. It all comes down to a chemical imbalance. That is what I have told my kids and what my rational self believes- because it is true. My irrational self, however, is having a REALLY hard time with all this. The biggest thing I’ve been chewing on is this: What the hell did we do wrong??? We have always prided ourselves on having well-behaved, polite, seemingly happy children. I thought I hid my anxiety reasonably well from them, but now I wonder. Growing up watching me worry about EVERYTHING has, I am sure, caused many of these issues. How can you grow up with a neurotic mother and not become a little neurotic yourself? Then I start comparing myself and my kids to my friends and their kids, to my brother and his kids. That is a slippery slope, for sure. I know this, but I can’t help myself. Needless to say, this has led me to feeling like a failure on the parenting front currently. That is a lot of baggage to carry- though I am happy to report that all the kids are successful; they just stress out more than the average bear- a lot more, as it turns out.
Just as things were starting to stabilize on the home front, I was running with my husband on a trail in March and tore a ligament in my ankle- three weeks before we were supposed to run a half marathon that we had trained for weeks for. You want to talk about depressing!!! I was in a boot and on crutches for two weeks, then a boot for two weeks, and then a brace for two more weeks. Have you ever had to teach on crutches? It stinks- especially when your school is huge with multiple buildings and long hallways. Being the type A, neurotic person that I am, I followed the doctor’s directions to a T- and it still isn’t right! The one thing I didn’t do that he suggested was go to the gym and ride a stationary bike regularly. I did it once and was so uncomfortable that I never went back. I only like to go to the gym in the summer at odd times of the day when I know there won’t be a lot of people there- and the ones that are there are in their 70’s. I just feel fat and frumpy next to all these 30 something, halter-top wearing, toned and bronzed goddesses. Seriously, why do they even need to go to the gym?!? Don’t answer that. I just recently have started doing body weight things and running on the treadmill at home again, but my ankle still swells afterwards and feels weird. Anyway, I am a stress eater; this and the issues with my kids have been stressful. Needless to say, it has not been pretty. I estimate that I’ve put on twenty pounds since I injured myself at the beginning of March. TWENTY pounds, y’all!! That’s like 10 pounds a month, or 2.5ish pounds a week. It is unbelievable- and still I eat. I hate myself for doing it and hate the way I look- and still I eat. The worse I feel, the more I want to eat and the less I want to work out- and the less I want to leave my house. As I sit here typing this, it sounds ridiculous. I KNOW it sounds ridiculous- and yet my irrational self tends to take over when things are not going well. Has anyone besides my husband picked up on this? I don’t think so; I am back to putting on my happy facade and then retreating to my house as soon as possible. It is exhausting.
Speaking of exhausting, I am tired all….the…time. I can go to bed at 8pm, wake up at 8am, and still feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. I really thought something was physically wrong with me until I really gave it some thought (because I am not going near any doctor’s office where I have to step on a scale unless a limb actually falls off!!). It is because I am lugging around extra weight, not exercising, and giving everyone my “life is great” version of things (because no one likes a negative Nelly).
Mark and I have been part of a small group at church for a few months now (since October, maybe?). My goal was to grow in my relationship to God. Let me tell you; that did NOT happen! I want to grow-and I’m trying to grow- but I can’t seem to get there. The more I learned, the more I felt I was doing this whole thing wrong- and the more disconnected I felt. At times, I was pretty sure a lightening bolt from the sky was going to strike me. It’s pretty sad when you can feel like a failure at your relationship with God, but here I stand. I’m going to keep working at it, and I know it will get better. (See, my rational self reemerges from time to time).
The month of May for a teacher is kind of like swimming in the middle of the ocean with jeans and a sweatshirt dragging you down while sharks circle, waiting to take the first bite. The kids are starting to lose their minds. There is testing, testing, testing….which, because the kids are starting to lose their minds, doesn’t always go as one would hope- but which the state uses to decide whether or not you are an effective teacher (no pressure there). We are trying to hold last minute meetings, gather materials for student cumulative folders, and finish up our last global unit. This year, we have the added stress of being redistricted, which means we are losing some kids- and staff! That also means, some people will be teaching different grade levels next year. On top of this, I’ve been having an issue with a colleague. I don’t want to get into it, but let’s just say one thing I have learned in this journey- and have not forgotten- is that I need to surround myself with genuine people. I don’t want to be around someone who is negative or talking out of both sides of their mouths. I don’t need to be worrying about what she is saying about me when I’m not there. As the lady says in the youtube video, “Nobody ain’t got time for that!”
I haven’t been to my therapist since January- can you tell? I was doing so well! I had learned to turn the negative voice in my head off, let stressful thoughts just drift by (or at least not implant themselves), and I was feeling strong mentally and physically. I was trying harder to live in the moment and was enjoying myself. I had an appointment scheduled for sometime in April, but I had to cancel it because my daughter rescued a dog off the side of the highway and we had to take her to the vet. That has a happy ending (hint: we have two dogs now), but it has not been a cake walk. I have yet to reschedule, but that is on my to-list. We will talk about getting myself back to my happy place and what to do next time when life throws a curve ball- and it hits you smack in the face.
That is kind of where I am right now. I am hanging on for dear life by my fingertips, trying to do what I need to do and not lose my ever-loving mind in the process- or any semblance of a waist. I’m keeping my eye on the prize: summer vacation. That will take a lot of stress away on many fronts- and it will allow me to better take care of myself. Sometimes, I get mad at myself because there are people facing SO MUCH WORSE- and I’m blubbering on about seemingly inconsequential things. However, I can feel myself sliding back into that “darker” place where it’s a struggle to leave my house- and writing it out helps me to regain perspective. I am always going to have to deal with anxiety; I have resigned myself to that fact. However, depression will not win; I will fight tooth and nail to enjoy this blessed life I have been given! Thank you all for your support and understanding…or at least tolerance. 🙂