Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash
Sometimes I forget about it and sometimes I really feel it. In my body, I feel it. I remind myself I need to get out and walk and get active, but it is so easy to push away with day to day responsibilities. Since I started taking a statin for my cholesterol levels in January, fatigue has been plaguing me. This means, once I come home and am ready to be home-I droop. Like a wilting flower, every bit of strength floods out and my bed calls to me. It's a problem.
However, I have to remember that in many aspects, I control my destiny. I remember that in the past, I had a cup of coffee in the afternoon to push on through the evening. I remember that the simple act of going out and taking a few steps down the road can make a difference and perk me up. It's funny, most of my life I was so embarrassed to be seen out-gasp!-exercising. And suddenly now, I just don't care. I don't care. I don't want to exercise, don't misunderstand, but I don't care about being seen. Which is also funny, because at 52, I can be quite invisible. Not totally invisible, these older men flirt too, but invisible to the majority of the population. It's okay, though. There comes a point when you don't just say you understand that your value is well beyond being seen, you actually feel it and know it in your bones.
Sometimes I wish I had waited to get married, gotten the nose job and the boob job, and thrown a wider net out. But truthfully, it took so many decades to start unlearning the unhealthy lessons I had absorbed. I don't know that it would have made a difference. If we could be the we we are at midlife in our youth-what a gift that would be.
My main struggle now?
Career wise
Part of me still feels as if I am not a legitimate teacher if I am not a regular education teacher. Now, I believe what I do matters. I like my students, I enjoy the rhythm of my day (but goodness, I wish we started an hour earlier and got out earlier). I like that I can wear jeans every day and can teach what I want. I don't mind doing restraints. In fact, it gives me a just a hint of dopamine every now and then that I crave. Don't get me wrong, I don't LIKE doing them. I don't LIKE my lessons being disrupted. I don't like dodging kicks and teeth. But I don't dread it either. The hardest part is seeing how much my paras hate it, and feeling like I am failing them when a student needs restrained. But back to the regular education thing. Having done it for two years, I can honestly say, neither is harder than the other. Regular education has it's own set of annoyances-strict adherence to curriculum, endless discussion with other stakeholders about tests scores, breaking down individual problems. Many students aren't interested in the subject matter. Crowd control. But it also has the ability to share stories more deeply about the world, the feeling of greater respect from coworkers and a little more recognition. I am not unhappy now, but I would like the ability to jump a little deeper sometimes.
Relationship wise
What relationship? Truthfully, I don't think single men exist after the age of 50. Where are they? I am not interested in bars. I am too shy for church, and my belief systems don't fit neatly in the box. It would be nice to have someone to do things with and talk with. But it is hard to imagine another adult in my house who isn't my children's parent. I don't know. I think it would add more stability to the boys' lives-if I didn't feel the need to work extra, if I had another adult helping out with chores. If I had another adult to lean on when things are stressful or something goes wrong. But...again, where are these nice, relaxed, intelligent, single men? I don't think they exist. Plus I don't know how to flirt and seal the deal. I get so shy.
Life wise
Gardening. I just don't have a green thumb. I am going to try container gardening this year. I am using bags. I'll let you know how it goes. I want abundant, colorful, rich and ripe vegetables so badly.
The fence should be fixed soon. That storm last summer really wrecked havoc on my yard. Also I am having the front door replaced, so I am excited about that. This door just needs to go. I WANT to repaint the entire exterior, but I can't afford a professional and frankly, hanging out on a ladder painting the second level sounds crazy and dangerous. I still need to replace one of the garage doors. I need the shed cleaned out and the shed roof needs repaired. And the door of the shed. I need someone with a chainsaw to trim up the bushes and small growing trees. I REALLY would like big backyard tree cut down, but the quotes were from $5000 to 6000 and I just don't have that right now.
I am so thankful for my new to me car, but I look at it, and it is so not me. Actually size-wise, I guess it is like the Dodge Neon I had in Hawaii in the 90s. It's just a young feeling car. I visualize myself in something more substantial. Honestly, I'd like a minivan or third row SUV. I suppose with gas prices jumping it's better I don't have to deal with that.
The state of the world? I don't know. I don't know what to do. There is only so much one person can do. Make their own corner the best they can. What's true and what isn't? I don't know. I do know the hateful words of our elected are painful, humiliating, and so far removed from what is good in the world, it is astounding at times. The lack of empathy, the lack of care from the public, is horrifying. People who consider themselves good, just keep spewing evil, and the world is sad. But we keep on. And there is the fear that perhaps I am blind to my own stumbles, but I try to be aware. I try.
I struggle when I am scared. When I think someone is thinking ill of me, when I can't control the narrative. I am learning to breathe it in and go with it, but the urge to self-protect is strong. There are different ways to work through it. Some people have the people skills to control the narrative, but I don't. My method has always been to just shut that person out and off, until I feel safe again. That's not really the way either, though. For me, with my skill set, I have to just go with it. I have to be my own anchor without closing off or getting nasty. I am a work in progress. Like all of us. I suppose.
I had hoped this blog would be so much more-but we are who we are.
Happy Sunday.
