My teaching days are numbered. Every day it is more difficult to wake up and go to school, take care of students, grade papers, and then repeat it all over again. Truly, if I could find a job that pays as much as I make now, I would give up my summers. The stress of it all makes me die a little more every day.
I also wonder if my parenting days are numbered. I love my daughter, but I have a hard time being there for her when I am hardly there for myself. I do not abuse or neglect her, and I always make sure that there is food in the house and clean clothes on her body, but the connection we once had just doesn't seem to be there any more and I do not have the energy to find it. So maybe this is a form of neglect after all -- I don't know.
I want to curl up into a little ball and sleep, but someone has to earn the money to keep this household going, someone has to do the things that need to get done. That someone is me. I hate it, but I cannot see any way around it. Every day gets a little harder and a little colder, and I grow a little smaller inside. Soon there may be nothing left, and then, then I can rest in peace.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
So *This* Is What the Stuff Is For
Tonight I was sobbing so hard I couldn't breathe, sobbing about everything and nothing. Nasty thoughts. Then I caved in and took some ativan. Now it still hurts but I no longer care.
It wasn't the school, it's teaching in general. It just isn't for me. But that is the least of my worries.
It wasn't the school, it's teaching in general. It just isn't for me. But that is the least of my worries.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
PostSecret
I am in love with the concept of PostSecret: send in an anonymous postcard with any secret you'd like to share. The maintainer would then scan the pictures (or in the beginning, just take photos) and post them for everyone to see. Some are hilarious, some are heartbreaking. Even if the one you send in isn't featured though, you still have the opportunity to let people know something that you've kept hidden.
Unfortunately, the maintainer has been too busy with his book tour to update. In addition, it appears that the archive of secrets has been removed since I was last there.
ETA: I found a site that had archived secrets!
Unfortunately, the maintainer has been too busy with his book tour to update. In addition, it appears that the archive of secrets has been removed since I was last there.
ETA: I found a site that had archived secrets!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Conversation
"I need to quit my job. It is too much."
"But what will you do?"
"I don't know yet; maybe work at a grocery store for a little while."
*Scoffs*
"You don't want to do that. You are so much better than that."
"What else am I supposed to do? I don't sleep, I have constant anxiety attacks, and I cannot think worth a damn. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?"
"Grin and bear it, I guess. You just have to take it one day at a time. Live in the moment."
Fucker. Do you not understand that I am about to have a freakin breakdown because I cannot handle the stress any longer??? And all any of the people that I go to can say, if they are actually there to listen, is "just put one foot in front of the other" or some other type of cliche?! I. CANNOT. HANDLE. IT. AND. I. AM. ASKING. FOR. HELP. AND. SUPPORT.
Screw all of my so-called friends.
"But what will you do?"
"I don't know yet; maybe work at a grocery store for a little while."
*Scoffs*
"You don't want to do that. You are so much better than that."
"What else am I supposed to do? I don't sleep, I have constant anxiety attacks, and I cannot think worth a damn. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?"
"Grin and bear it, I guess. You just have to take it one day at a time. Live in the moment."
Fucker. Do you not understand that I am about to have a freakin breakdown because I cannot handle the stress any longer??? And all any of the people that I go to can say, if they are actually there to listen, is "just put one foot in front of the other" or some other type of cliche?! I. CANNOT. HANDLE. IT. AND. I. AM. ASKING. FOR. HELP. AND. SUPPORT.
Screw all of my so-called friends.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Neverland
Never intelligent enough.
Never strong enough.
Never helpful enough.
Never industrious enough.
Never obedient enough.
Never thoughtful enough.
It is all never good enough.
Never strong enough.
Never helpful enough.
Never industrious enough.
Never obedient enough.
Never thoughtful enough.
It is all never good enough.
College Memories
When I was pregnant with my daughter, the guy who sat next to me in my Humanities class tried to hook up with me. Not as a boyfriend, mind you, but as a FWB -- the benefit being that I could only be pregnant once at a time. We went out, we played pool, we kissed, and once I told him I was not interested in that type of relationship, that was that.
Oddly enough, he still sat by my every day for the rest of the semester. We never talked except, "May I borrow your notes; I think I missed the last 10 minutes of what she said," or "How did you do on the test?".
I do not know why, but I was thinking about him today. While I can understand not wanting to hook up with someone who was pregnant with someone else's child, why go out with them but then ignore them for the rest of the semester? The auditorium was only half full; he could have moved to any other seat he wanted if he did not want to choose to be by me any more.
Jerk.
Oddly enough, he still sat by my every day for the rest of the semester. We never talked except, "May I borrow your notes; I think I missed the last 10 minutes of what she said," or "How did you do on the test?".
I do not know why, but I was thinking about him today. While I can understand not wanting to hook up with someone who was pregnant with someone else's child, why go out with them but then ignore them for the rest of the semester? The auditorium was only half full; he could have moved to any other seat he wanted if he did not want to choose to be by me any more.
Jerk.
Cat-Scratch Fever
"I wish I had a nickel for every time someone says, 'The cat did it'" -- David Rosen
At least I actually *had* cats.
At least I actually *had* cats.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
But What Is It *Really* About?
I just finished reading Tears of a Tiger by Sharon Draper and the ending makes me want to cry. The main character in the story, Andy, was drinking and driving and had a horrific accident which killed his best friend. All throughout the book Andy struggles to overcome what he has done, but it's too much in the end.
What makes me cry about the ending isn't what Andy did, but the reactions of others to what he did. He was called a coward and scorned for his actions, yet this is someone who asked for help again and again when he came to a point that he couldn't handle it and there was nobody there to help him. No, the other characters did not necessarily know that. Yes, anger happens when someone dies. But what are you expected to do when you ask for the help and none is proffered?
Maybe it just hit a little too close to home for me.
What makes me cry about the ending isn't what Andy did, but the reactions of others to what he did. He was called a coward and scorned for his actions, yet this is someone who asked for help again and again when he came to a point that he couldn't handle it and there was nobody there to help him. No, the other characters did not necessarily know that. Yes, anger happens when someone dies. But what are you expected to do when you ask for the help and none is proffered?
Maybe it just hit a little too close to home for me.
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