I kind of want to write love letters to Xanex right now, because instead of totally freaking out and biting off all of my fingers about being observed by the micromanager tomorrow, i really feel rather zen about the whole situation.
I’ve walked out of work twice this week humming.
Clearly, the antianxiety meds make me much less of a freak inclined to random collapse of insanity – and this is not at all a bad thing.
So, here’s the thing, really. This is my sixth or seventh year of teaching. I started freaking out about not wanting to teach…oh, my junior year of college. I was undiagnosed, but probably clinically depressed during student teaching. My first full time teaching job involved me throwing up before school and crying all the way home.
In those 6 or 7 years, I’ve made it maybe 3 years unmedicated or undepressed or anxious, and maybe 2 years where I didn’t feel like I was failing at it. And I’m fairly sure that one full year of that was because I only taught part of the year.
And yet, we’re discussing moving, and I’m contemplating Montessori training. To be a Montessori teacher.
Why? Do I expect it to be extremely different from what I know now? Do I expect to like it more and be excited about teaching for a change?
Should I throw it all over and go herd yaks for a living? There’s always my original plan of growing up to be Godzilla!
