Well, well, well . . .

It's taken many, many years, but I think I've finally found the focus of my writing.  Turns out this little disorganized blog was not nearly as random as I first believed in the beginning.  Tidbits of truth. The word "truth" being the emphasis. The truth of what I have experienced and what I think about it. Genius! It was so obvious, I just couldn't even pick it out. If it had been a snake, it woulda bit me.  I hate snakes.

So, now that I am unexpectedly semi-officially "retired," I am hoping I may eventually have a little time to kill.   People who know my identity may be thinking "WHAT??? You're only 42. You can't just retire.  How so??"

Here is "how so":  I had the job I had always dreamed about, even as a little naive kid:  teaching other little naive kids.  It was a blast.  So much so, that I did it for 21 years.  Half of my life.  Never thought about doing anything else.  I don't really know how to do anything else.

Then, things started changing.  More and more job duties were being added.  As a teacher, I was kept busier and busier with all sorts of ridiculous new tasks that never seemed to involve actual teaching.  At the same time, my 42-year old body developed diabetes, except I did not know that.  I just kept working and working, trying to keep up with the insane marathon pace set by my employer.

I began having trouble with normal mental tasks, like thinking of words and even difficulty putting sentences together at times.  Anxiety began to set in, although mostly outside of my job and in crowded places.  I had no idea what was going on. I don't know about other people, but my body is not equipped with any sort of "check engine" sensor.

Anywhoo, I struggled through.  My doctor thought I was ADD for awhile.  Finally, in early January of 2013, I knew there was more.  Figured I was crazy and might as well face the institutionalization that I had convinced myself was coming.  Went back to the doctor, and she began trying to find a psychiatrist that could see me.

In the meantime, the principal at the elementary school where I worked, asked "Is everything ok?"  I stupidly told her what was going on, saw no reason to be anything other than honest.  I had never had a problem getting along with "Mrs. Frills."  (Not her real name.  Lol.  I'm not totally stupid, I know you gotta protect the guilty).

Turns out, I should have probably not shared medical disability information with my boss.  Let that be a lesson to ya.  Here's why:  2 days later, I happened to be having a rough day.  It was gonna be about 13 hours long, grade cards needed to be put into envelopes and distributed, valuable planning tine had been robbed of all of the teachers by the sacred, mandatory, 3-day-week grade-level meetings and about half of my 23 students were very needy.  Pencils kept breaking, need a band aid, or an eraser, forgot my reading book at home, blah, blah.  Oh yeah, I also was expected to be teaching during all of this.

I reached my point of being overwhelmed, after my concentration toward my lesson had been interrupted numerous times. So, I shed a few tears of frustration, but was not upset with anyone other than myself.  I just felt helpless to fix so many problems at once.  I continued to try to get my lesson moving anyway.  Then, Mrs. Frills "just happened" to walk into my classroom, and boy, was she pissed . . . . about some trash on the floor. She yelled at the students, never acknowledged me in any way.  Just yelled at my babies for a stupid, insignificant reason, and left. . . .

(To be continued in the next post)