I've decided what my problem is. Control. I want control. Even now as I sit here in my classroom during summer school, a time for kids to actually like learning, I feel like I have to have total control. No talking. Sit up. Don't fall asleep. Read your book. I've become this monster who wants to control things...anything I think.
And I think that's why I've been sabotaging the best thing in my life. I've been trying so hard to get some kind of control. I can't control my current job situation or the money I have coming in. And as a result, I've turned into a monster that can't even control my own emotions. So I try to control Boy. And then I realize what I'm doing and I fall so far the opposite way that he feels like I don't care. It would be easier if I wasn't a girl and if I wasn't crazy.
So I've decided that this issue of control is a problem. And even though I've decided this, I'm not sure how to fix it. The only solution, and I'm sure the best solution, is to do my best to give up my need for control daily. If only it was as easy as putting it in an envelope or washing it off in the shower. If only.
I'm hoping that after days of giving up my need to control something, anything, in my life, I will eventually return to being that person who has trust in things I can't see and who is cool with things I don't currently understand. I realize that point is a long way from where I am now. But I guess the journey has to start somewhere? Pretty sure this road isn't going to be an easy one for me. But maybe, just maybe, it'll turn me into less of a jerk.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
T minus 18 days.
It's like 18 days until my life changes...in a big way...for good. I've been putting off writing about this because it's still hurts a little and the weird thing is, it really shouldn't hurt.
For 7 years, I've intended to leave this town and now when my leaving is a mere 18 days away, the thought makes my stomach churn and my head spin. I've always thought of myself as the kind of person who can deal well with change, who sometimes creates change but a change like this is big. Not only am I moving everything I own (or at least the stuff I didn't give to Goodwill) but I'm taking my memories and I'm leaving my friends. I'm switching banks and mailing addresses. I'm quitting my jobs, both of them. My life as I know it, in 18 days, will be done.
I was thinking that people say this is me starting a new chapter but it feels more like I'm writing a new book. A book where I'm sensitive and emotional and attached. A book where I don't just do what I want and think about the consequences later. A book where what I do actually affects someone. This is WAY more than a new chapter.
To be honest, I think for a while it will be hard not to resent him. He isn't forcing me to move. No one is twisting my arm. I saw this as an opportunity and decided to take it. But I think when I'm angry or alone or hurt, I will blame him. I will blame him that I have no one around. I will blame him that I have no money. It will all start with me blaming him. Then the cracks in the pot will grow. And before you know it, the entire foundation is splintered. It's not that I WANT that to happen but I know how I am. I know how I work. And hopefully through knowing, I can keep it from taking place.
I'm excited. I'm ready to start a new book. I wonder what it will be like to see the guy I totally love every day, or most days at least. I hoping that I find in me more love than I ever thought I could possess. I'm hoping that with every day, I realize how much more I cannot live without him. I'm hoping that I become, just a little more, a girl who loves a guy. But I realize exactly how far I will have to go to make that happen. That love doesn't exist on the surface of me. That love doesn't just spring up. It needs to be dug out. So I think we will both have some work to do.
Today I'm feeling confident that this was and is the right decision. Tomorrow, maybe not. But today...well...there's nothing wrong with just living in the moment.
For 7 years, I've intended to leave this town and now when my leaving is a mere 18 days away, the thought makes my stomach churn and my head spin. I've always thought of myself as the kind of person who can deal well with change, who sometimes creates change but a change like this is big. Not only am I moving everything I own (or at least the stuff I didn't give to Goodwill) but I'm taking my memories and I'm leaving my friends. I'm switching banks and mailing addresses. I'm quitting my jobs, both of them. My life as I know it, in 18 days, will be done.
I was thinking that people say this is me starting a new chapter but it feels more like I'm writing a new book. A book where I'm sensitive and emotional and attached. A book where I don't just do what I want and think about the consequences later. A book where what I do actually affects someone. This is WAY more than a new chapter.
To be honest, I think for a while it will be hard not to resent him. He isn't forcing me to move. No one is twisting my arm. I saw this as an opportunity and decided to take it. But I think when I'm angry or alone or hurt, I will blame him. I will blame him that I have no one around. I will blame him that I have no money. It will all start with me blaming him. Then the cracks in the pot will grow. And before you know it, the entire foundation is splintered. It's not that I WANT that to happen but I know how I am. I know how I work. And hopefully through knowing, I can keep it from taking place.
I'm excited. I'm ready to start a new book. I wonder what it will be like to see the guy I totally love every day, or most days at least. I hoping that I find in me more love than I ever thought I could possess. I'm hoping that with every day, I realize how much more I cannot live without him. I'm hoping that I become, just a little more, a girl who loves a guy. But I realize exactly how far I will have to go to make that happen. That love doesn't exist on the surface of me. That love doesn't just spring up. It needs to be dug out. So I think we will both have some work to do.
Today I'm feeling confident that this was and is the right decision. Tomorrow, maybe not. But today...well...there's nothing wrong with just living in the moment.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
A Mug of Memories
I only kind of believe in omens. It's kind of silly. I know that. That's why I only let myself believe in them a little. I don't get carried away or at least I try not to.
I have this mug. It's special. It's a big mug. It can hold a whole lot of coffee and it leaves just enough space for the right amount of cream and sugar. It's really nothing special. It has a moose on it or an elk or something. And it's all chunky...like it was hand-made. It's green and red and brown and big and rough. i guess it's ordinary...or it would be to you. But you'd think that because you don't know the story.
This mug does more than hold my coffee. As cliche as it sounds, it holds memories. This mug was given to me by Pitt...years ago...at Christmas. He didn't know what to get me and he handed it to me in some awkward gesture. We were standing in a parking lot outside a nursing home after visiting his grandmother. I was getting in my car to leave. He stopped me before I got in and handed me this box. It was brown and heavy and covered with a bow. I'm pretty sure his mom wrapped it. I opened it...there...in the parking lot and I saw it as so much more than a mug. I saw it as a way for me to remember him...to think of him every morning when I drank my coffee. And for years I have. Over time, I've found other mugs to use but that mug, the moose mug, stays on the back of the shelf. Sometimes I pull it out. The memories don't flood me like they used to. And I'm glad. They shouldn't anymore.
The other day I broke the cup. I was taking it out of the sink and somehow I hit it just right. The handle broke off and I stood with the mug in two pieces in my hands. I gently sat it on the table and just stared at it for awhile...wondering if this is an omen...one of the few I actually let myself recognize. I wonder if it means something. I wonder if it symbolizes the breaking, the end, of something old. I wonder if I should let the mug go. It could be repaired. I could glue it. But I wonder if I would ever trust the mug again. I wonder if I could ever really hold it by the handle. I wonder if I should. I wonder if I should leave the broken mug alone...walk away...and use a new mug. After all, a mug can't really hold memories...can it?
I have this mug. It's special. It's a big mug. It can hold a whole lot of coffee and it leaves just enough space for the right amount of cream and sugar. It's really nothing special. It has a moose on it or an elk or something. And it's all chunky...like it was hand-made. It's green and red and brown and big and rough. i guess it's ordinary...or it would be to you. But you'd think that because you don't know the story.
This mug does more than hold my coffee. As cliche as it sounds, it holds memories. This mug was given to me by Pitt...years ago...at Christmas. He didn't know what to get me and he handed it to me in some awkward gesture. We were standing in a parking lot outside a nursing home after visiting his grandmother. I was getting in my car to leave. He stopped me before I got in and handed me this box. It was brown and heavy and covered with a bow. I'm pretty sure his mom wrapped it. I opened it...there...in the parking lot and I saw it as so much more than a mug. I saw it as a way for me to remember him...to think of him every morning when I drank my coffee. And for years I have. Over time, I've found other mugs to use but that mug, the moose mug, stays on the back of the shelf. Sometimes I pull it out. The memories don't flood me like they used to. And I'm glad. They shouldn't anymore.
The other day I broke the cup. I was taking it out of the sink and somehow I hit it just right. The handle broke off and I stood with the mug in two pieces in my hands. I gently sat it on the table and just stared at it for awhile...wondering if this is an omen...one of the few I actually let myself recognize. I wonder if it means something. I wonder if it symbolizes the breaking, the end, of something old. I wonder if I should let the mug go. It could be repaired. I could glue it. But I wonder if I would ever trust the mug again. I wonder if I could ever really hold it by the handle. I wonder if I should. I wonder if I should leave the broken mug alone...walk away...and use a new mug. After all, a mug can't really hold memories...can it?
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Lurking
All day I've had this sick feeling. It's like something is living in the pit of my stomach, lurking somewhere within me, ready to pounce out at any minute. I'm scared because I'm not sure what this feeling means. I'm not sure if it's nerves. I'm not sure if it's just anxiety. I'm not sure if it's all in my head. But maybe it's totally legit. Maybe it means something.
See, here's the story. Last night I had two dreams that I could remember and me remembering my dreams is very rare. Dream Number 1...I had lice. I'm terrified of getting lice because I'm afraid it would ruin my hair. I'd have to buy all new stuff for my bed. It would be this huge deal. And from that point on, I'd be even more terrified of getting lice. So I woke up this morning with my head itching. Dream Number 2 was even more terrible. I was pregnant and I had a baby and the baby was a kid in my class and the baby/kid in my class totally urinated all over me and I just took it. I just stood there...maybe because it was a baby but maybe because it feels like that's what I've been doing all year. I've only told one other person about this dream. They said it might symbolize the fact that I feel like I've been getting crap all year. I have my own theories about what it means.
I guess more than anything, I don't like to remember my dreams. I overthink them and I've been doing enough overthinking as it is. I wish I could truly divulge all that's in me but I just don't think I'm ready to do that...not to anyone. Keeping it all in is a dangerous path to start down. I have pretty much had a Person for a long time now which means I've always had someone to talk to. But this time I can't talk. This time I think talking is more dangerous than keeping it in. And I'm afraid after I keep this in, it will be easier to keep more in and eventually I'll become some stone person without any outlet for my feelings or emotions. That's not who I want to be.
I guess for now I'll just sit...and scratch my head...and overthink...and feel that lurking feeling in the pit of my stomach...because that's what I do best.
See, here's the story. Last night I had two dreams that I could remember and me remembering my dreams is very rare. Dream Number 1...I had lice. I'm terrified of getting lice because I'm afraid it would ruin my hair. I'd have to buy all new stuff for my bed. It would be this huge deal. And from that point on, I'd be even more terrified of getting lice. So I woke up this morning with my head itching. Dream Number 2 was even more terrible. I was pregnant and I had a baby and the baby was a kid in my class and the baby/kid in my class totally urinated all over me and I just took it. I just stood there...maybe because it was a baby but maybe because it feels like that's what I've been doing all year. I've only told one other person about this dream. They said it might symbolize the fact that I feel like I've been getting crap all year. I have my own theories about what it means.
I guess more than anything, I don't like to remember my dreams. I overthink them and I've been doing enough overthinking as it is. I wish I could truly divulge all that's in me but I just don't think I'm ready to do that...not to anyone. Keeping it all in is a dangerous path to start down. I have pretty much had a Person for a long time now which means I've always had someone to talk to. But this time I can't talk. This time I think talking is more dangerous than keeping it in. And I'm afraid after I keep this in, it will be easier to keep more in and eventually I'll become some stone person without any outlet for my feelings or emotions. That's not who I want to be.
I guess for now I'll just sit...and scratch my head...and overthink...and feel that lurking feeling in the pit of my stomach...because that's what I do best.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
The War
There are some days when my head, the rational side of me, and my heart, the moral and emotional side of me, war to no end. They won't stop fighting and yelling and debating about anything and everything. I spend my minutes and days in some emotional turnmoil from the small battles being waged within me. Should I or should I not? Can I or can I not? Is this okay or is it against the rules? And what are the rules? Do I follow them because everyone else is? Have I lost sight of the goal because it seems that I'm the only one looking at it? Sometimes the black and white suddenly all looks so gray and it takes me a moment, or several moments, to realign my focus. And when I do, it seems that I've already messed things up.
Sometimes I wish I could be more emotional or more rational...one of the two...because the war between is sometimes too heavy.
Sometimes I wish I could be more emotional or more rational...one of the two...because the war between is sometimes too heavy.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
It's official
It's official...no...finally. I resigned. I turned in my letter of resignation today. My principal told the staff yesterday so it seemed official but it wasn't...not until that piece of paper went from my hands to his.
It was ironic how two years ago I parked in almost the same parking spot and walked in to get my contract. I remember being so excited. I still have the picture of me with my contract a few moments after I got it. I felt so important...so successful. I had worked so hard and finally had something to show for it. I feel like after 2 years, all I have are bruises.
I know every job has issues but I just feel so battered this year with all the situations that have gone on. I knew I couldn't handle it for one more year...not with bigger class sizes and a smaller staff. Also, my mom has been diagnosed with cancer. I want to be around to take care of her if she needs something. And then there's boy. I know that if I want this to be something...amazing...then I need to move myself into a closer proximity to him. It just has to be done.
This could all be a mistake. I could have just screwed up my life big time. That's a very real possibility. I have no place to live, no income, no job. I went from fairly secure to wondering how I am going to survive in about 3.2 seconds. The thing is I've taken very few chances in my life. I sometimes take calculated risks but I almost always know the outcome beforehand. This is a chance...a big one...the kind that could change my life. And I'm scared. I'm scared I just messed up. I'm scared I'll never find a job or a place to make me happy. I'm scared that I'll regret and I have too many regrets already.
The thing that makes me feel confident in my decision usually comes by 4:00 every day. For the last few weeks, 4:00 rolls around and something happens. Monday, an angry parent called after school. Tuesday, a kid brought rocks and rope and threatened to kill me. Today, a parent e-mailed me and said the problem with her daughter is the way she is being educated (blaming me for everything). Every day it's something. Whether it's a stolen $20 piece of jewelry or suspected abuse on the part of a parent...something happens to make my day not normal...to stress me out and make me worry. I can't say that I'll miss it. I can't say that I'll miss feeling like crap, feeling inadequate, daily. I realize I have a long way to go. But my confidence is shot. I have no more. I feel like I've been bled dry.
But tomorrow I will walk in with a smile on my face. I'll spend the day waiting until 4:00 and just wondering what is going to go wrong. Then I'll go home and mark one more day off my calendar. Sometimes I think I'll be sad when I'm gone. I guess they're making it easier on me...I guess.
It was ironic how two years ago I parked in almost the same parking spot and walked in to get my contract. I remember being so excited. I still have the picture of me with my contract a few moments after I got it. I felt so important...so successful. I had worked so hard and finally had something to show for it. I feel like after 2 years, all I have are bruises.
I know every job has issues but I just feel so battered this year with all the situations that have gone on. I knew I couldn't handle it for one more year...not with bigger class sizes and a smaller staff. Also, my mom has been diagnosed with cancer. I want to be around to take care of her if she needs something. And then there's boy. I know that if I want this to be something...amazing...then I need to move myself into a closer proximity to him. It just has to be done.
This could all be a mistake. I could have just screwed up my life big time. That's a very real possibility. I have no place to live, no income, no job. I went from fairly secure to wondering how I am going to survive in about 3.2 seconds. The thing is I've taken very few chances in my life. I sometimes take calculated risks but I almost always know the outcome beforehand. This is a chance...a big one...the kind that could change my life. And I'm scared. I'm scared I just messed up. I'm scared I'll never find a job or a place to make me happy. I'm scared that I'll regret and I have too many regrets already.
The thing that makes me feel confident in my decision usually comes by 4:00 every day. For the last few weeks, 4:00 rolls around and something happens. Monday, an angry parent called after school. Tuesday, a kid brought rocks and rope and threatened to kill me. Today, a parent e-mailed me and said the problem with her daughter is the way she is being educated (blaming me for everything). Every day it's something. Whether it's a stolen $20 piece of jewelry or suspected abuse on the part of a parent...something happens to make my day not normal...to stress me out and make me worry. I can't say that I'll miss it. I can't say that I'll miss feeling like crap, feeling inadequate, daily. I realize I have a long way to go. But my confidence is shot. I have no more. I feel like I've been bled dry.
But tomorrow I will walk in with a smile on my face. I'll spend the day waiting until 4:00 and just wondering what is going to go wrong. Then I'll go home and mark one more day off my calendar. Sometimes I think I'll be sad when I'm gone. I guess they're making it easier on me...I guess.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Cooler
This has been a hard day. The community where I've spent the last 7 years of my life, where I live and work just really hurt me...me as a teacher and me as a person. It's hard not to take this personally. It's hard not to let the bitterness seep into my heart and my life and my mind and my words. It's hard to speak with a tongue that's not pointed and with a voice that isn't drenched with sarcasm. It's hard not to look at the people around me, the people driving down the street, and point my finger at them. On my way into work today, I wanted to shout at every car that passed me. I wanted to flip off the drivers or make them pull over so I could throw some punches.
But I didn't do any of those things. I walked into my building, I put on my pretend smile and I tried to make it through the day. There were obstacles...like the angry parent that called again for the 3rd day in a row. I've decided that some people just like to be pissed. Some people just can't or won't be happy. And then there were the boys fighting at recess again. Detentions don't affect them and I can see their future criminal records in their eyes. That scares me. But the biggest obstacle I faced today was myself. I was angry and frustrated and hurt. And part of me wanted to stay that way. Part of me thought the community deserved my disgust.
But then we were taking a restroom break. The hallway was lined with my students. They were sitting so quietly, so respectfully, and I was standing there still stewing. Then one girl came over and looked up and me and wrapped her arms around me. It was a hug that meant something. It was a hug that touched my heart. She didn't pull away quick. It wasn't a side hug. It was the type of hug that helps heal a hurting person. And before I knew it, I was surrounded with students in one giant hug. The boys were squeezing to get in the hug and they were all giggling and jumping. I couldn't help but laugh and smile with them. That hug meant so much to me. I told the students that they really made my day...and it totally did. It reminded me that I teach, or I should teach, because I love it...because getting a hug makes my day. Screw the idiots who don't support the school system, screw the parents who do nothing but complain. I'm not in this for the parents. I'm not in this for the politicians. I'm in this because it drives me, because every day there is some part of me that is in some way fulfilled. I might go home exhausted and frustrated and angry but at least a small part of my heart feels so success.
So here's what I decided today. My life is about me. It's about what makes me happy. I only get to do this once so I really should make it count. Screw the idiots. I'm cooler than them anyway.
But I didn't do any of those things. I walked into my building, I put on my pretend smile and I tried to make it through the day. There were obstacles...like the angry parent that called again for the 3rd day in a row. I've decided that some people just like to be pissed. Some people just can't or won't be happy. And then there were the boys fighting at recess again. Detentions don't affect them and I can see their future criminal records in their eyes. That scares me. But the biggest obstacle I faced today was myself. I was angry and frustrated and hurt. And part of me wanted to stay that way. Part of me thought the community deserved my disgust.
But then we were taking a restroom break. The hallway was lined with my students. They were sitting so quietly, so respectfully, and I was standing there still stewing. Then one girl came over and looked up and me and wrapped her arms around me. It was a hug that meant something. It was a hug that touched my heart. She didn't pull away quick. It wasn't a side hug. It was the type of hug that helps heal a hurting person. And before I knew it, I was surrounded with students in one giant hug. The boys were squeezing to get in the hug and they were all giggling and jumping. I couldn't help but laugh and smile with them. That hug meant so much to me. I told the students that they really made my day...and it totally did. It reminded me that I teach, or I should teach, because I love it...because getting a hug makes my day. Screw the idiots who don't support the school system, screw the parents who do nothing but complain. I'm not in this for the parents. I'm not in this for the politicians. I'm in this because it drives me, because every day there is some part of me that is in some way fulfilled. I might go home exhausted and frustrated and angry but at least a small part of my heart feels so success.
So here's what I decided today. My life is about me. It's about what makes me happy. I only get to do this once so I really should make it count. Screw the idiots. I'm cooler than them anyway.
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