Freedom

Thanks to the On This Day feature on Facebook, I realize that I officially left teaching two years ago, today. In the two years that have followed, I had a job and then lost it (still  for unknown reasons).  I have lost all but $300 and avoided homelessness by moving in with my ex.  I had an emergency blood transfusion. I have gained about 25 pounds (an estimate because scales make me cry). I have contemplated suicide. I am still out of work.

Would I do anything differently?

Nope.

As a matter of fact, I would do everything exactly the same, even knowing that I would be sitting here, unemployed for eight months.

I have a solid goal in my life and I would not have found that goal if I hadn't been through varying degrees of hell in the last two years.

I have found that I really do have friends who will stick by me and offer me support and love.

I have found peace.


If I had stayed in teaching, none of that would have been possible.  If I hadn't lost my job, I wouldn't have taken steps toward a goal that will truly fulfill me.

So, thank you to all of the bullshit that has come my way. 

Give Love

My plan for this evening was to go to gym, as I have done for five days out of the last seven. Today was even going to be a double exercise day because I had done some yoga this morning.  My plans changed because of two, unrelated events: President Obama's speech about gun control and the suicide of a former Hamtramck High School student.

Today, President Obama announced an executive order to address gun violence in the United States.  I was most interested in the investment of $500 million dollars to improve access to mental health care. According to the Center for Disease Control, 41,149 Americans committed suicide in 2013. Of those 41,149 deaths, 21,175 deaths were attributed to guns. Guns contribute to 51 percent of all suicides in America. Clearly, the U.S. needs a serious wake-up call about mental illness and how access to guns allows too many people to kill themselves.

Earlier today, I heard about the suicide death of a Hamtramck High School graduate.  This young man, whom I did not know, used a gun to end his life. From what I can tell, he was only 19 years old, maybe 20. A former student wrote about the death on his Facebook wall and a comment was made to the effect that people often hide depression, so not to be judged by others.  I know that I try hard to hide any truly dark emotions so not to frighten people away, as I have experienced. From what I can tell, this hiding is probably more prevalent among men, that women. While women are twice as likely as men to experience depression and three times more likely to attempt suicide, men are four times more likely to actually kill themselves.  Of the 41,149 suicide deaths, 79 percent of those are men. That is 32,507 men. Of that number, 51 percent were caused by a firearm.  A little simple math tells us that 16,578 men in 2013 killed themselves with a gun.  This sounds like a crisis, most acutely a men's health crisis.

Why do so many people suffer?  Why are 79 percent of all U.S. suicide deaths men?  I suspect it is because people (in general) and men (in particular) do not want to be seen as weak.  During his speech today, President Obama shed tears when he spoke about the children killed at Sandy Hook.  Of course, his opposition mocked him, as if he shouldn't feel saddened by the thought of those slaughtered children.

People who have suffered from depression readily admit that talking about depression makes them feel weak.  I remember a principal I had (red-headed female) who mocked a fellow teacher who was suffering from depression.  I knew about the situation because I was the union rep. for the building and therefore in a position to know about this person's struggles.  The principal said to me that this teacher needed to get over it because everyone gets blue from time to time. That stunned me.  This is from a conversation on a FB wall earlier, someone wrote,

"I don't want to burden anyone with my nonsense. And though I don't know how anyone else feels, I think I can understand why someone would hide it from others. I didn't want to be called a wuss or told how weak I was and I damn for sure didn't want to push my problems onto anyone else, because the chance of being lonely for being 'crazy' or something."

I get that because I have been there, but I think it's doubly hard for many men because they are supposed to be "strong" and tears are for women. This is the malarkey I heard growing up. Movies, music, television - real men don't cry.

It's time for real conversations and true concern and empathy for others.  It's time for LOVE. As David Bowie sings in his collaboration with Queen, "Love's such an old-fashioned word/And love dares you to care for/The people living on the edge of the night/And love dares you to change our way of/Caring about ourselves.

  

Should I or Shoudn't I

Several years ago, I attended a weekend retreat, a combination meditation and life-coaching type of deal. The facilitator encouraged the attendees to stop "shoulding on ourselves."  Everyone chuckled at the near naughty word it invoked, but it is a thought that has stuck in the back of my mind for a while.  I don't think I heeded the deeper concept behind her advice until very recently.

My son is a pretty anxious kid who believes that every mistake he makes is proof of how rotten he is to the core.  Needless to say, his anxiety and my depression sometimes make for an awful combination. He believes that he should be perfect.  I have no clue how to not feel hopeless about his feelings.

At one point, I asked him to stop some minor annoyance and he chided himself as being stupid.  He say something to the effect of, "I'm 11, I shouldn't be making mistakes like that." That stopped my cold in my tracks and pushed my memory to the "shoulding on ourselves" advice.  Until that moment, I hadn't fully realized what a value-loaded word "should" is.

On that day, he and I were headed to lunch and a movie (Inside Out).  We discussed the word "should" and how it can sound very judgmental and preachy - especially when we are talking about ourselves. It is a discussion that we now have on a regular basis.  While tiring, I believe that the conversation is a good one.  We talk about how the words we use reflect our deeper thoughts and feelings.  It's actually quite good therapy for both of us.

Slippage

My job has been keeping me very busy for the last few weeks,and will continue to do so for the next two months.  In general, I get home between seven and eight, after a ten hour day.  This means I am not getting enough exercise or a balanced diet.

Because of that, I've noticed some slippage in the area of mental health.  I am noticing that my thoughts are more circular than they've been in a while.  I am noticing that I'm spending too much time on the couch.  I am noticing that my house is again becoming more cluttered than I would like.

The miracle is that I am noticing all of this and am able to form a plan of action to address my concerns. A year ago, a plan of action was far out of my reach.  I'm not going to say that it will be easy to take action, but it is possible to take steps to heal myself before tumbling to the depths I have previously experienced.

Baby steps. That's all I need to take.  I will only cause myself unnecessary stress if I try to tackle all the issues at once.   A little cleaning here, a little exercise there, and healthy food in the fridge are easy places to start.

I give this week four out of five stars.

I'm hoping that the first week proves the toughest. My emotions were all over the place and my circular thinking has decreased, but not disappeared.

I have cleared some parts of my house and that makes me very happy.  I'm not looking to live in a Pottery Barn catalog, but I'm also not looking to be a future story on Hoarders.  The public areas of my house look much better, while the private parts still make me cringe.  Taking baby steps will get the place in order and reduce that stress in my world.

I did not meet with my principal.  My union president put an end to that silliness.  She called me with the concerns my principal has, all of which I already knew and was in the process of addressing. My anxiety spiked during the drama, but is now settling back down to a reasonable level.

I finished reading one book.  In a week.  It's a miracle.  I had almost forgotten how much I love to read.  It has been so lovely to recline on the couch, with the cat snuggled into my neck and my brain absorbed in a good story.

I have heard from many people who love me.  It turns out that there are quite a few people out there.  Students, both current and former, and friends near and far.  I always feel a bit like Holden Caulfield when I get those gifts of love, “Almost every time somebody gives me a present, it ends up making me sad.”  I still need to consistently believe that I am worthy of love. I cried uncontrollably, for no reason, after speaking to a former flame tonight who called to just to offer me a smile and love and encouragement.

On the other hand, only one or two co-workers have bothered to check on me.  I'm trying to not let that disappoint me, as it doesn't really surprise me.

I have exercised every day.  Luckily, the weather is finally turning into spring and I can get out and walk.  I've even seen the inside of the gym. Not only does exercise help the symptoms of depression, it will also help my wallet so I can fit into the clothes that are already in my closet.

Overall, the week wasn't too bad.  Next week, I will start to take full advantage of Canada's wonderful single-payer health care system.  I was worried that I would really struggle financially to continue any type of therapy, but I got some good advice, life-changing advice really.

This week would have gotten five stars if George Clooney had chosen me, or if Squeeze had announced a Detroit date.  There's always next week.

This is an illness

Let's get this straight.  Depression is an illness.  I take medication on a daily basis to control some of its effects on me.  I seek help from a professional.  I engage in physical therapy (regular exercise) in order to regain my well-being. 

My leave happened quite suddenly.  I didn't understand the process.  I thought the leave would take a few days to commence.  It started the day I turned in the paper and that was it.  My caregiver said no work, so I am not to be there.  I liken the whole episode to a car accident.

If I had been injured in a car accident and could not come into work, my boss would never think to ask me to come in the the school to meet to discuss some lingering issues.  Why then, would my boss request that I come in to meet to discuss these issues?  Is it that my boss does not take depression seriously as an illness? Is it that my boss figures I'm physically able, so surely I could stop by the building? 

I don't know.  I asked in the email.  The email in which I responded to all the issues that were to have been addressed in the meeting.

My stress level is pretty high today, but I'll be fine.

What are we doing to help?

A friend posted this article on teacher burnout on her Facebook wall the other day.  This clearly defines who I have been for a while now.  Sadly, I can see these symptoms settling in on many of my co-workers.  If we can identify the warning signs of teacher burnout, what is the profession and the whole educational field doing to help?  The answer, from my vantage point is...nothing.

In the Greater Essex County School District, there is a counselor who works for the district and will speak with staff (and family members) for free.  While the counselor likely cannot meet with someone on a weekly basis, like a therapist, there is at least an outlet for staff to address emotional and mental health needs.  That is, of course, in Canada.

In America, way too many people see depression as a weakness.  For example, about a year ago, a principal I know was speaking to me about a colleague who was suffering depression. This administrator said, basically, that everyone gets sad and that this colleague just needed to get over it. I've mentioned before how so many people will encourage a depressed person to focus on  positive thoughts and push the negative aside.  If my brain would have allowed me to do that, I would have.

Recent attacks on teachers are not helping the situation.  People cannot be told that they teach at a failing school without eventually internalizing the implied message that if the school is "failing," the teachers are failures.  Reading between the lines, that is the message. To continually be told you are a failure is to suffer an erosion of the soul and spirit.

Back to my question in the headline, what are we doing to help?  Perhaps districts could band together and pay the salary of a counselor or two who could be resources for teachers in those districts.  Perhaps the two unions could help fund those positions.  Perhaps the two unions could work together and create a teacher crisis hotline. Teachers, active and retired, could man those phones to listen to teachers who need a shoulder.  The public gives teachers very little sympathy, we get summers off and many people seem to resent that fact. We need to talk with those who have worn the same shoes.   Anything is better than the nothing that is happening now.

The struggle continues

I had to finally change my  game plan for coping with my depression.  The dark feelings had greatly increased lately and I knew that I would break.  Instead, I applied the brakes. I applied for and got a family medical leave.  To focus on my depression.  To focus on the various manifestations of my depression.  The gastric problems that have surfaced.  The nightly deluge of tears.  The absolute horrific mess my house is.  No more.  I need to get off the train for a while and regroup.

I made my decision while sitting and looking at the Grand Canyon.   It is such a beautiful place.  I realized that needed peace in order to restore my health.  So, I when I got home, I walked off the edge, into a leave.  I will very likely hurt financially during this leave.  I'm okay with that. Finances can be restored, lost health cannot.  Moments, days, weeks lost to worry and depression cannot.

Today, I start over, with a fresh focus.

Getting Emo

The return to school has been more difficult than I anticipated. All the stress of grading papers, never being alone, and large classes have hit me with a double shot to the kidney. I feel myself being sucked into a black cloud of depression. I did not enjoy the isolation of being a stay-at-home mom and I had eagerly looked forward to returning to work. I am of a completely different mind at the moment.

Our school is under the gun because we have not made Adequate Yearly Progress (AYP) in five years. I'll explain all of that later, maybe this weekend. Anyway, if our test scores (and a variety of other factors) don't achieve AYP this year, the whole staff could be fired. No stress there. We have turned into test prep central and that is not why I became a teacher.

It has not helped that some of Andrew's behavior's have grown wearisome and worse. His inability to stop himself from pinching my thighs has me down. He looks at me and the only thing he almost ever says is "Momma's pinchy squishy skin." I must hear this two, three dozen times a day. Naturally, the stress I'm feeling from work must trickle down to Andrew. He must sense how I'm just not feeling right.

Then there's my book. I haven't even given it a passing glance in three weeks. What a waste of some fine material. I'm not saying it's Pulitzer material, but it is a huge dream that I have to finish it. Of course, if I lose my job, I'll have all of the time in the world to write. I just won't be able to make it to Wimbledon for my 45th birthday. Plus, who knows what I'll eat when I am an old woman without a pension.

My head is swimming with confused thoughts. I need to get my act together or I'll burn out and be of no use to myself or anyone else.