I've been teaching for 16 years now. There were some years when I truly thought I had it all figured out. But lately, the past 5-7 years at least, I feel like it slips through my fingers. Students deserve to learn and grow and I, as the teacher, need to make sure that happens. I still feel as if I have not yet found the best way, for me, to teach Reading and Writing. Plus, grammar, language, spelling, speaking, vocabulary.....
It's very frustrating.
Saturday, February 25, 2017
Saturday, February 4, 2017
Anger
It's probably one of my most used emotions. As if I could select one and switch it on and off like a light. If I could do that, would I make sure that it never came on again? There are days when I wish it would go away. I can hear myself, yelling, frustrated, arguing. Many times, it's all in my head. Bottled. Muted. Never to be released. But then, I can only keep it at bay for a little while. Then, it simmers to the surface. Instead of shouting, I shut down. I don't want to be around anyone. I don't want to do anything. Everything bothers me. Everyone bothers me. I just want to be left alone. My emotions are done at that point. I need time to regroup. I never have long enough. Someone or something always needs attention. I've never really minded being by myself. I like the quiet. I feel like I can breathe. There are many days, at least it seems that way lately, that I wish I could be by myself. I know that I am unhappy with some things. I truly think that I am just unhappy with myself - never quite feeling good enough. For myself? For others? I'm not even sure.
After anger, comes this weighed down sadness. Dragging me under. And many times, I don't want to leave it. It's almost a comfort. Something I'm used to, something I know. A sadness of things unfinished, unsaid, unfelt. Things that I don't know how to handle, and it makes me sad. I want to be able to handle things. That is the perfectionist in me. I hate being unaware of how to handle things or people. Loss of control. It hurts the most when I want to be good at something, or noticed for something good, and I'm not as good as I should be. Not as accomplished as I feel I need to be. I have always wanted to impress. Feel important. But be able to drift away, unnoticed, so I can have my solitude. It helps me think somehow. Not being around others, not being around noise, helps me think, sort, feel. Even though I know I walk away still without answers, I feel full again. Whole again.
I have many desires. Some I have achieved and others still wait. But then, have I really achieved anything? I feel that I have not been what I dreamed I would be as an adult. Although I could never picture myself as an adult.
I've always, since I was 4, wanted to be a teacher. My job is a teacher, but does that make me one? Am I really doing what I thought it would be? Have I accomplished, am I accomplishing my original dream? Does that dream exist anymore? I am not as good as I thought I would be. I question myself and my actions every moment of every day. I used to be confident in my thoughts and abilities in this field. After 16 years, I feel like I truly have no idea what I'm doing. It wears on me. Drags me down. Takes my energy.
For a while, I wanted to be a writer. I've started and written many poems. I've started many short stories. Had dreams of writing a novel. Worked with a writer (although I never read anything they ever wrote) in order to help myself be better. I quit. I couldn't deal with the critiques. What I would think was good, was never good enough. I know - that's life. Well, some can take it and know how to handle it. I am not one of those people. I shut down.
I wanted kids. I have 3. I still have no idea what I'm doing. And many days, I feel as if I'm doing more harm than good with them.
This seems to be turning into a pity party for myself. I don't want cheering up. I need to get this out. I need to know that I've said it - at least in some fashion. Hearing that I'm good enough, or do a great job, or I'm overreacting - those things are just words to me. They don't go past the surface. The words don't penetrate. They are muted before they reach my heart. My heart. That's what needs to feel...I don't even know. Satisfied? Secure? Safe? Solid? Whole?
My anger builds through the week, the weekend is my shut down time. I am quiet, withdrawn, and want more than anything to be alone. Or around someone, or something, that lets me be quiet and meditative, without asking questions. Without wondering, thinking, assuming, that they aren't needed. Aren't good enough. Sometimes I just need time for me. No one seems to get that. No one I know feels that desire to be quiet, and know it's okay to be quiet. I don't want to be touched, loved, needed. I want peace. I want to know that I can be me. I don't have to put on the show for a few hours. For a few days.
Maybe there will be a day, when I am around people, or even a person, who gets that. Who gets me.
After anger, comes this weighed down sadness. Dragging me under. And many times, I don't want to leave it. It's almost a comfort. Something I'm used to, something I know. A sadness of things unfinished, unsaid, unfelt. Things that I don't know how to handle, and it makes me sad. I want to be able to handle things. That is the perfectionist in me. I hate being unaware of how to handle things or people. Loss of control. It hurts the most when I want to be good at something, or noticed for something good, and I'm not as good as I should be. Not as accomplished as I feel I need to be. I have always wanted to impress. Feel important. But be able to drift away, unnoticed, so I can have my solitude. It helps me think somehow. Not being around others, not being around noise, helps me think, sort, feel. Even though I know I walk away still without answers, I feel full again. Whole again.
I have many desires. Some I have achieved and others still wait. But then, have I really achieved anything? I feel that I have not been what I dreamed I would be as an adult. Although I could never picture myself as an adult.
I've always, since I was 4, wanted to be a teacher. My job is a teacher, but does that make me one? Am I really doing what I thought it would be? Have I accomplished, am I accomplishing my original dream? Does that dream exist anymore? I am not as good as I thought I would be. I question myself and my actions every moment of every day. I used to be confident in my thoughts and abilities in this field. After 16 years, I feel like I truly have no idea what I'm doing. It wears on me. Drags me down. Takes my energy.
For a while, I wanted to be a writer. I've started and written many poems. I've started many short stories. Had dreams of writing a novel. Worked with a writer (although I never read anything they ever wrote) in order to help myself be better. I quit. I couldn't deal with the critiques. What I would think was good, was never good enough. I know - that's life. Well, some can take it and know how to handle it. I am not one of those people. I shut down.
I wanted kids. I have 3. I still have no idea what I'm doing. And many days, I feel as if I'm doing more harm than good with them.
This seems to be turning into a pity party for myself. I don't want cheering up. I need to get this out. I need to know that I've said it - at least in some fashion. Hearing that I'm good enough, or do a great job, or I'm overreacting - those things are just words to me. They don't go past the surface. The words don't penetrate. They are muted before they reach my heart. My heart. That's what needs to feel...I don't even know. Satisfied? Secure? Safe? Solid? Whole?
My anger builds through the week, the weekend is my shut down time. I am quiet, withdrawn, and want more than anything to be alone. Or around someone, or something, that lets me be quiet and meditative, without asking questions. Without wondering, thinking, assuming, that they aren't needed. Aren't good enough. Sometimes I just need time for me. No one seems to get that. No one I know feels that desire to be quiet, and know it's okay to be quiet. I don't want to be touched, loved, needed. I want peace. I want to know that I can be me. I don't have to put on the show for a few hours. For a few days.
Maybe there will be a day, when I am around people, or even a person, who gets that. Who gets me.
January 29, 2017 9pm
There have been many thoughts and conversations with people that were carefully thought out, perfect in tone, and used all the right words. Unfortunately, those conversations and thoughts never made it out of my mouth. Things that have gone unsaid, but thought. Questioned, but unanswered. Muted.
As an introvert, I contemplate a lot and I keep a lot to myself. I used to write journal entries all the time, but as kids, husband, life took over - those entries became non-existent. For a bit, I was able to write some stories, but those have gone unfinished as well. I get ideas and the good intentions to finish them, or even just work on them, but just as the wind can change direction in a second, so can my desire.
As an introvert, I contemplate a lot and I keep a lot to myself. I used to write journal entries all the time, but as kids, husband, life took over - those entries became non-existent. For a bit, I was able to write some stories, but those have gone unfinished as well. I get ideas and the good intentions to finish them, or even just work on them, but just as the wind can change direction in a second, so can my desire.
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