I haven't posted in awhile and honestly, I feel like I have gone "off track" slightly. Not relapsed into a depression but not stayed on my healing journey either. This time of year is busy with family and friends. It has kept my mind busy to be around other people, plan family dinners, finalize winter break travel plans, and pack for my family's time away. However, it has also kept my mind busy from focusing on my healing journey. Posting in this blog has helped me maintain accountability to myself to continue on my healing journey. While I'd love for people to read my blog, give me feedback, comment, and help anyone along the way, I am content at the moment just knowing this is helping ME. Pardon my selfishness.
Since my last post, my family celebrated Christmas. We are not a religious family per se, and are more spiritual than anything. I feel guilty that my children think Christmas is all about Santa, decorating a tree (who on Earth decided that was a good idea?!), and getting/giving presents. We have tried to teach them that it is more than that. Now that they are getting older and are able to understand more about the world, we are teaching them how to give back to nature, others, and the greater good. I dislike Christmas time greatly, most due to a crappy childhood memories, but alas, I'm not getting into that now. My husband has said we need to make new memories for our children, and while he is 100% correct, it is easier said than done. Sometimes I find myself zoning out and crappy memories creeping into my mind for no apparent reason.
So what have I been doing since my last post? On Christmas Day, I finished up the packing while the kids played with new toys. We were flying out the next morning to sunny South Florida to our condo. We've been at our condo since December 27th, my happy place. We bought our condo a few years ago, and renovated it top to bottom. It is our sanctuary--calming, quiet, and relaxing.
Often I feel selfish, guilty, and ashamed for having anxiety. My husband often asks me, "What will make you happy?" And honestly, I am happy, but something is missing. I am truly blessed. I have an amazing and supportive husband (together nearly 15 years), happy and healthy kids, and financial security (we have a condo and we're in our early 40's). Sometimes I feel extremely guilty about being anxious....like what on earth do I have to worry about?! Plenty, but often, I can't even put my finger on what is (literally) keeping me up at night. The one thing that is truly my biggest worry is my career...or at the moment...lack there of. More on that later....off the the beach for some family fun time.
Showing posts with label shame. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shame. Show all posts
Tuesday, 1 January 2019
Friday, 21 December 2018
Facing the First of Many Fears
From the day I stepped out of my classroom two months ago, I hadn't been back inside my classroom or school. Simply driving by the school (we are rural and unless I take a nearly 45 minute detour, I must go by the school) caused me nausea to the point of nearly vomiting. The thought of going back caused such intense fear in me that I even skipped my kids' Christmas concert (see prior post), which caused major mom guilt. Thankfully, my amazing husband went to the concert and taped my kids' performances. These fears of being back at school overwhelmed me to the point I couldn't even pick up my kids early from school two weeks ago for dentist appointments. I ended up cancelling the appointments and rebooking for after school so my kids could just take the bus home. Avoidance is so much easier.
I had been talking to my therapist about these feelings of fear, guilt, shame, and disappointment for a few weeks now. I had been wanting to talk to my principal, but the fear was overwhelming and avoidance is my temporary medicine. What would I say? How would she react? Would she respond to my email or text? Would I be welcomed back? Would I see any of my students? Other teachers? My own kids? My brain is a professional at the "what if" game.
At my last therapy appointment, I sobbed opening up to my therapist about several traumatic events from early childhood. My earliest memory is a very traumatic one; I believe I was about three years old. My patient therapist (no pun intended) listened and empathized well over my one hour time slot. Once I started pouring my heart out, I couldn't stop. I felt relieved to get this out and have someone indeed agree and validate that these examples were traumatic and abusive. It was my normal so up until a few years ago, I just thought we were a "dysfunctional family," but then again, most families seem to have their dysfunctions. I now have confirmation from a professional that this is not the case. Even though my own personal and professional experience in the education field knew that this was "abusive," I had someone validate that for me. Had I heard some of these stories from my own students, I wouldn't have thought twice about calling Children's Aid Society. My "logical brain" knew that these were abusive and not normal experiences. My "illogical brain" made excuses for my parents.
So back to facing my fear. With the encouragement from my therapist, I emailed my principal. She answered me the next day, ending some of my "what if" scenarios, but it opened up a whole new set of "what if" scenarios. I wanted to meet her after school hours, but with the impending holiday coming up, I knew that would be difficult, if not impossible. To my surprise and then immediate worry, she asked if I could meet her during the day. It was better to just get it over with and move on with my day.
With my detailed list of things I wanted to talk to her about in hand, I headed out to my school, about a 15 minute drive. I cried nearly the whole drive there, and the closer I got, the more rapid my heart rate became. Pausing in the parking lot, doing some deep breathing, and positive self talk, I headed in the school. I pushed the buzzer to be let in...no answer. OMG, one of my "what ifs" I missed. Damn it. I probably said something a little more colourful in my head, but you get the point. After a few more attempts at the buzzer, nothing. Either I was going to sit on the floor behind the solid metal door so I remained unseen or go back to my truck to text her. I decided with the latter, and thankfully I did, because shortly after the mail lady came in....probably not the sanest thing to see at a school. I texted my principal and went back in, taking in a few more deep breaths and feeling intensely hot (temperature hot), she saw me and opened the door. I bolted right into her office.
Thankfully, she was extremely receptive and let me get out everything on my list. She was kind, empathetic, and reassured me that my students were in good hands. She was thankful and appreciative for my forward thinking so she could plan appropriately for my absence. Despite not wanting to cry, of course, I sobbed right away. Obviously, it was apparent I would need more time off to continue my healing process. Upon leaving, she gave me a hug, which touched my heart and meant a lot.
Driving back home, I cried a lot more. I felt an immense weight lifted off my shoulders and the fear of going back to my school lifted...somewhat. Being back inside the building was a huge first step, but there will be a few more first steps to go before I feel 100% ready to go back to work. Baby steps. I faced a fear, and for that, I am proud of myself. My worst fears did not come true, thankfully. Avoidance will continue to occupy me until I feel ready to face those next fears.
Anxiety is exhausting When I arrived home, my husband wanted to know how it went. I had no energy to explain to him, only mumbling that it went well. I went to my bed and wrapped myself up in my duvet and had a rest. At that point, I hadn't had a good night's sleep in a few days. Anxiety is mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausting. I needed an hour or so of just stillness.
My therapist would be proud that I faced this fear, but moreover, I am proud I faced this fear. I feel like this was a huge step in the right direction towards my healing. I still have a long way to go, but I am getting there. Avoidance is no doubt easier, but when one is ready, facing fear is necessary to heal.
I had been talking to my therapist about these feelings of fear, guilt, shame, and disappointment for a few weeks now. I had been wanting to talk to my principal, but the fear was overwhelming and avoidance is my temporary medicine. What would I say? How would she react? Would she respond to my email or text? Would I be welcomed back? Would I see any of my students? Other teachers? My own kids? My brain is a professional at the "what if" game.
At my last therapy appointment, I sobbed opening up to my therapist about several traumatic events from early childhood. My earliest memory is a very traumatic one; I believe I was about three years old. My patient therapist (no pun intended) listened and empathized well over my one hour time slot. Once I started pouring my heart out, I couldn't stop. I felt relieved to get this out and have someone indeed agree and validate that these examples were traumatic and abusive. It was my normal so up until a few years ago, I just thought we were a "dysfunctional family," but then again, most families seem to have their dysfunctions. I now have confirmation from a professional that this is not the case. Even though my own personal and professional experience in the education field knew that this was "abusive," I had someone validate that for me. Had I heard some of these stories from my own students, I wouldn't have thought twice about calling Children's Aid Society. My "logical brain" knew that these were abusive and not normal experiences. My "illogical brain" made excuses for my parents.
So back to facing my fear. With the encouragement from my therapist, I emailed my principal. She answered me the next day, ending some of my "what if" scenarios, but it opened up a whole new set of "what if" scenarios. I wanted to meet her after school hours, but with the impending holiday coming up, I knew that would be difficult, if not impossible. To my surprise and then immediate worry, she asked if I could meet her during the day. It was better to just get it over with and move on with my day.
With my detailed list of things I wanted to talk to her about in hand, I headed out to my school, about a 15 minute drive. I cried nearly the whole drive there, and the closer I got, the more rapid my heart rate became. Pausing in the parking lot, doing some deep breathing, and positive self talk, I headed in the school. I pushed the buzzer to be let in...no answer. OMG, one of my "what ifs" I missed. Damn it. I probably said something a little more colourful in my head, but you get the point. After a few more attempts at the buzzer, nothing. Either I was going to sit on the floor behind the solid metal door so I remained unseen or go back to my truck to text her. I decided with the latter, and thankfully I did, because shortly after the mail lady came in....probably not the sanest thing to see at a school. I texted my principal and went back in, taking in a few more deep breaths and feeling intensely hot (temperature hot), she saw me and opened the door. I bolted right into her office.
Thankfully, she was extremely receptive and let me get out everything on my list. She was kind, empathetic, and reassured me that my students were in good hands. She was thankful and appreciative for my forward thinking so she could plan appropriately for my absence. Despite not wanting to cry, of course, I sobbed right away. Obviously, it was apparent I would need more time off to continue my healing process. Upon leaving, she gave me a hug, which touched my heart and meant a lot.
Driving back home, I cried a lot more. I felt an immense weight lifted off my shoulders and the fear of going back to my school lifted...somewhat. Being back inside the building was a huge first step, but there will be a few more first steps to go before I feel 100% ready to go back to work. Baby steps. I faced a fear, and for that, I am proud of myself. My worst fears did not come true, thankfully. Avoidance will continue to occupy me until I feel ready to face those next fears.
Anxiety is exhausting When I arrived home, my husband wanted to know how it went. I had no energy to explain to him, only mumbling that it went well. I went to my bed and wrapped myself up in my duvet and had a rest. At that point, I hadn't had a good night's sleep in a few days. Anxiety is mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausting. I needed an hour or so of just stillness.
My therapist would be proud that I faced this fear, but moreover, I am proud I faced this fear. I feel like this was a huge step in the right direction towards my healing. I still have a long way to go, but I am getting there. Avoidance is no doubt easier, but when one is ready, facing fear is necessary to heal.
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