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The Painful Relief of Saying Goodbye

 Well, it’s over and done with. I know losing a pet or having to put one down is a common occurrence, yet the pain is still sharp; the grief biting into me at different moments. One such moment was upon the return home from the vet. Coming into the house to see his paw prints in the snow, his other bed (because of course he had more than one), his food dish, and the eerie quiet without the jingle of his collar caused me to lose myself in uncontrollable sobs. Both Brett and I passed out from exhaustion at Jamie’s bedtime, which is why I’m awake in the middle of the night. I keep expecting to hear Baxter shake his collar and need to go outside. These past three or four months he needed to be carried and helped outside and back in. He would try to maintain his balance and usually fail, peeing on himself, and/or falling backwards on his back and scrambling, trying to recover his balance. Our linoleum kitchen floor became too slippery of a surface for his back legs that had lost their s...
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Where is My Mind & Saying Goodbye

 I know how cliché it is to use a song as a blog title, yet this phrase accurately describes how I have been feeling of late. My brain is out to lunch, spinning with too many thoughts and the inability to filter them out. I've always been forgetful, spacy, frazzled, you get the picture, but now I seriously wonder if the words that come out of my mouth make any sense.  Am I teaching well? Is what I'm teaching making sense? Is it engaging or interesting?  The other problem is that I'm so tired that I'm not sure if I care this week. I haven't slept well in about a week; my son is teething violently and that pain he takes out mostly on me: head butts, hitting, crying, screaming, biting, have become par for the course this week. Thus, I am so fracking exhausted.  To top this week off, today is Baxter's last full day. We are putting him down tomorrow, and I've never had to put down one of my pets before. I know my parents have done it, but I was out of the house b...

Teacher frustrations, struggles, and the need for kindness

 How is it still the year 2020?  As a teacher, I feel like this year has had a lot of lows. We went from in the spring caring about teachers and celebrating them for taking care of our kids and getting them lunches and doing the impossible overnight to now, we criticize everything that they aren’t doing well or enough of. Why haven’t they called the parents multiple times? Why is my kid failing? Why can’t we be in the building? Why do we have to wear masks? Why? Why? Whyyyyyyyyyyyy?  I get it. I really do. This isn’t the way we wanted this year to go. Parents are at their wits end, (teachers are parents too!), and teachers are starting to really question their choice of career or whether they should retire. I know I have at least thought about it, and I think others would be lying if they said otherwise. I’ve seen a few good teachers jump ship, and it makes me sad. Schools would be better with those teachers still in them. Yet,  I feel like teachers have become danci...

I'm Going to Make It Through This Year...If It Kills Me

Hello again, Perhaps you are sick of the topic of mental health. I understand. I often, too, feel sick of dealing with my mental health. Unfortunately, I cannot break up with my depression or anxiety; my brain and I are committed to one another til' death do us part. As previously mentioned on this blog, I have been on a journey for almost ten years to improve my mental health.  Ten years?  Yes, it's been that long, and despite my struggles, it has genuinely improved over time. I'm more equipped to deal with new traumas, can identify signs that I need outside help, and have developed the fortitude to wait the feelings and thoughts out. Furthermore, I know not to trust everything my brain tells me is true. I take sertraline, which is an antidepressant that helps me deal with my irrational brain and think through things.  I was doing better....but then, well 2020 happened, and like many others, this year has been a lot to deal with: pandemic, elections, job changes, and hea...

The Curse of Friday the 13th

 I remember the last time we had a Friday the 13th. It was in March. We were watching Governor Waltz’s update in my 7th grade English class after lunch. The students waited impatiently to see if schools would close for Covid-19. He said schools would remain open and nothing would change, but over the course of that weekend, we switched the distance learning. Those words were new to us then.  What students cheered for then, now they know the difference, and most of them would prefer to stay in school with their friends and teachers.  I want that too.  Today, we were notified that our school will be shifting to full distance learning after Thanksgiving break. I have so much to do, am losing teaching days, and am sad I won’t get to be in-person with any of my kiddos.  Saying that, I know this is the right thing to do, and I hope after the holidays, we will be able to be together again.  I’ve been lucky to get to know my kids at school and not through a screen,...

Old Hurts, Old Scars, Still Healing

My therapist has said it a couple times now, but I'm pretty sure I didn't want to hear it. A possibility? Sure. Confirmed diagnosis? I don't think so. Slow down there for a second. Yet, as this time of year rolls around again - the family holidays and what not - I know deep down she is right.  I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  It's odd and yet liberating to say those words to myself let alone others. I have PTSD, and the traumatic events/time period is from almost exactly ten years ago.  How can something from ten years ago still be messing with my brain?  Perhaps, that may not seem odd to others, having their trauma affect their day-to-day life and demeanor, but I also thought my struggles were mostly, if not entirely, from my already established mental illnesses, depression and anxiety. Yet, it makes sense that all of these intertwine themselves together. I had depression and anxiety before that time period, but the increased symptoms and struggle around this...

Here We Go Again - Nearing November

 The days are shrinking. The sun hides more often than it appears, leaving the sky a muted hue, a depressing pallor. Maybe it's the weather. The lack of sunshine, the cold setting in, and the restriction of being stuck indoors. It could be one of these things, all of these things, or something else, but regardless, each year, around this time, I feel the heaviness start to press behind my eyes. That mix of exhaustion, apathy, and inescapable sorrow that makes up my mental illness - depression. I'm aware I carry this issue or obstacle (not really sure what to call it) with me all year round. Yet, when the days grow short and the end of the holidays appear, I always feel the worst. A clear pattern obviously. Perhaps it's some unresolved trauma, which seems likely, because there are wounds this time of year from years past that linger. Unhealed. Open. Old.  Could it be the Christmases before, during, and after my parents' divorce? The awkward holidays, once my favorite tim...