Today dawned bright, cold, and fresh. If I didn't struggle with such strong social anxiety, it would be a lovely day to go to church and celebrate with others. There is an undercurrent of sadness in my heart, and I am letting it simmer. I would rather it rise and swell on a weekend than a weekday.
The sun was up, and my body was still tired, so I didn't get up until well after seven. If you knew how much of a morning person I have been all my life this would be astounding to you. But lately, I have been struggling with the early mornings, and I am going with it. I have also had several nights with little sleep over the past couple weeks, which severely impacts my mood and judgement, and-I am not going to lie-it's been rough. So resting up seems okay, even if the little voice inside my head whispers it's lazy.
There are days when one just feels so broken. I question whether I will ever be able to rise above my flaws. Everyone in my family tells me I am ADHD, and on one hand it makes sense-I never could manage to keep a neat house-as much as I always dreamed of just being a happy little homemaker. I would forget about quizzes until five minutes before class, and then have to rely on good short-term memory to get my grade. I would burn out a week or two before the end, and get a B because I just couldn't go any further. Maybe this isn't ADHD-maybe something else. I don't know. And ADHD rebellion is always under the surface-Here is what google AI (hate it) has to say, "Furthermore, a deep need for autonomy, emotional dysregulation, and a heightened sensitivity to fairness can lead them to question rules that seem arbitrary." So that's a struggle.
Then my current process coordinator was talking with me about upcoming ieps. I have three that need done in the next month. "Can you handle that?" he asked. And I had to wonder-what's wrong with him? With me? I can write and hold three in a day if I have to. Why can't he see that? For me, what makes is hard with this job is a) I have fewer IEPs, and I lose momentum and forget how they are to be done when I am only doing one a month, and b) I have no set plan time. I hate leaving my class, not because the paras can't handle it; They are more experienced than me, but because they really dislike when the kids act up, and I really love being with my class. What a privilege it is to be entrusted with nine beautiful souls all day. Is it easy? No. I get hit every day. I struggle with consistency-not because I want to be unfair, but because so many things I either don't see, because I am living deep in my head all the time or some things just don't bother me. On the one hand, it makes me seem patient and easy going, on the other hand, it lowers the level of structure in my room which these kids need. Ugg. My imperfections plague me.
The thing about my social anxiety is, I don't think I will be outright rejected. It's a quiet rejection-a withdrawing of others. People usually accept me at first. Then my negativity shows-my underlying distrust of the system and the powers-and that scares people away. They don't want to be associated with that. And I get it. I played Susie good girl when I was a physics major. Joining the clubs, chatting up the professors. Then I just---wasn't interested anymore. And went back to being Jill, hopeful and bitter-a dichotomy of confusion;o).
Oh well. Jill is such a dull name. I dreamed I was teaching math, and it was going well and as we transitioned from classes, which required walking and driving for some reason, another teacher would hold my hand. I reminded myself he was just being kind, but it was nice to have someone care enough to reach out and make sure I was okay as we walked through the fields to ... the next class? And the kids started talking and I started to get scared, and another teacher came in and just taught me their techniques without judging. They smiled and patted my shoulder and believed in me, and it was lovely. I don't miss Hickory. I do think there is value in student teaching and not having that experience has made my career more difficult.
And I realize all the damage that had been done to my developing self. The emphasis on intelligence over character, correct answers over growth. Not that character wasn't important to me. I chafed at little lies, almost to a strange spectrumy way. I hated pretending I was younger to get a discount, telling my mom's callers she wasn't home when she was-little white lies bugged me so much. Both my parents insecurities and social anxiety became ingrained into me. Always watching for a sign that someone was slipping away or overreading faces, I get that from both of my parents. My dad's insecurities at our sports prowess-instead of encouraging us, he criticized, pushing us away from developing skills. My mom, laughing that we had her lack of artistic talent-why not look for what we were doing well. Where was that encouragement? Even my sensitive soul, my concern for others was fodder for laughs. I realize everyone, parents included, were just doing the best they knew with what they, too, had been dealt, noone is as ADHD as my dad, and my mom likely, too. We all just bring what we have and try to improve-but noone hands us the keys to improvement. We are just trying to figure it all out on our own. Not that I am not accountable; Not that they aren't accountable. Just that...it is so hard to see outside the paradigm you are in. I realize my methods are neglectful, not that I wanted to be, it is what I was raised with and what I thought was the right way. Letting young people have space to figure out who they are, that was my method. But now, I think, kids need a bit more guidance. I am trying to work less, and be home more, as much as I feel the need to earn and provide, because kids need a parent at home. But it's hard. We also need money to pay the bills. I have learned not to rely on others emotionally so much that not being alone feels like an imposition. To have to listen and entertain others. My introversion runs deep. It blows my mind I was always in trouble for talking as a child.
I had an interview on Friday, I don't know how it went. I felt I answered the questions well, but I don't have any experience in the area, so if someone with a little more background interviewed, of course they would be better qualified. I have another on Tuesday, but I am not expecting to get it. I just applied on a hope, and when they called, I felt like I needed to follow through. I like my job that I am in, but there are things about it, I don't like. Of course. Nothing is perfect. The truth is, most jobs are doable with a good attitude. Attitude is a struggle of mine.
If things sounds hopeless, it is just the simmering sadness. It will pass when I get dressed and put some makeup on and maybe get out of the house. I think it would be better if I didn't need to share these thoughts, but for some reason, I have to get them out. I have to know that someone is listening. It's actually quite embarrassing. Because others don't share these things, and I wonder if I am either exceptionally unstable, just more honest with myself, or just more outspoken about the instability. Tell me, are you crazy on the inside, too?:o). I smile, because I know I am accomplishing a lot. I am raising good kids. Maybe they won't finish college, but they aren't going to deeply hurt anyone and they bring a creative light of their own to the world. And maybe that is what matters. I am working. Maybe I will never have the drive to be a recognized teacher, but I love my students, and try to enrich their lives in the best way I know. My pets love me. In fact, most animals feel drawn to me, my brother's snobby dog aside, and I think that is a good thing. I completed a bachelor's and master's degree with a houseful of kids on both. And the sky is blue and I live in a fairly safe corner of the world, which millions and millions can't claim, and I feel my luck. Some people would call it a blessing, but blessing seems a little...I don't know, smug, I guess. Like it is a gift from God. Why would God bless me with safety while millions suffer? It doesn't seem right. Maybe billions are suffering, I don't know.
The world is a little sad right now. People are disappointing. Leaders are evil and it hurts. And we don't do anything, but wring our hands, because Americans have proven we are powerless as babies, wondering why noone will save us. We are going to have to learn the hard way. We may have to suffer as a group before we learn the lessons Europe appears to have learned. Our two party political system has divided us so effectively, we don't know how to act. But the sky is blue. Tender green leaves are sprouting and fat-breasted robins are bobbing across the lawn. And long after I am gone, beauty will remain. If not on a swirling green and blue marble, then far away in the vastness and depth of the cosmos. Beauty and peace and love will always win. Entropy, be damned.
OH! I almost forgot. I have gotten into sourdough baking again, and it is going well. I have had one good loaf, one mediocre, and one really bad (I forgot oil and salt). My starter is thriving and it can only get better from here! I have also decided to do bag veggie gardening this year. I can't afford raised beds, and I haven't had success in just using the ground. So I bought grow bags. I am excited!
