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 |  When a queer midlife crisis mixes with mental health issues, it gets messy. Quill nominee |
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Everything's in order in a black hole Nothing seems as pretty as the past though --"Florescent Adolescent," The Arctic Monkeys ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** 15 things about me: 1. I’m 42, married (21 years), 3 kids (20, 19, almost 18). Yep. 2. Related: I was Mormon for 10 years. Husband was a lifer. I grew up evangelical. I’m what I call a soft atheist now. 3. I’m bisexual/queer. 4. Anyway, the midlife crisis: I never got to explore my sexuality. 5. The mental health? Oh bbs, where do I begin? 6. My marriage is under a bit of duress. No fighting; it’s unspoken. 7. I got honorable mention in a Writers Digest competition in 2019. 8. I teach high school English 9. I'm a bit of a stoner 10. My pronouns are she/they. 11. I’ve turned into a dog person. 12. I was first on this website from 2007-2010ish 13. I appreciate comedy that doesn’t resort to bigotry 14. Confidence is so sexy, y’all 15. I have an, at best, tenuous relationship with my extended family (mom, stepmom, etc). I have so much shit to work through. I’m happy to have your company while I do. |
| I keep meaning to add entries to my blog. I'm out on disability now, so I have the time, but not necessarily the feel-good I need to do this. They still don't know what's wrong with me. My specialist, who is without bedside manner, has some suspicions, but I have to wait until mid-May for an endoscopy to ensure it's not something we really need to worry about. That's right. May. I'm not terribly worried but I am feeling shitty pretty much every day. Nausea, abdominal pain--just a lot of fun. I spend most of my day laying down. In other news--my flash fiction piece was published! I'm loathe to give the link away due to it using my real name, but it's more or less a version of "Invalid Item"  I was hoping it would be published in print, but I'll take my first ever piece of flash fiction being published at all, online or not.That said, I'm not as excited as maybe I should be. I want to tell people about it, but I'm afraid it's too damned basic, that it's too gay (it's not), or whatever it might be. My style of writing tends to be simple, I suppose. Easy to read, but simple. I'm fairly insecure about it. Plus my husband just isn't interested, which is fine but it also hurts a little. Once he said "I want to read your story since it means so much to you" (he was talking about "Truth Will Out" ) but he didn't get through it all. It just sucked. I haven't told him that, though.When a previous version of "Truth Will Out" won honorable mention in the Writer's Digest Popular Fiction contest back in 2019, some colleagues said they'd like to read it. I never heard back from them. A few friends read it and loved it. I should hold onto that more, but man. When people say they'll read something of yours and, in some cases when you know they've begun to read it because you saw them...but you never hear back? Nah. That's not okay. Anyway. I have a lot to say but not a ton of energy to say it. My writing these days consists of me going over things in my head. I hope to put it down into writing soon, but I have to take some steps back. I tend to overcomplicate my plot points, especially that main struggle/conflict. I'm excited about "Invalid Item" but she has some ways to go. I'm just hoping it doesn't take me 20 years to do it like it did with "Truth Will Out" |
| Hey everyone. Long time. I was just thinking of my best teaching memory and wanted to share. It’s a doozy. About eight years ago, I was teaching at a small, rural high school. I had a student—big guy, football player, well-loved— who asked to be transferred out of my class his junior year but couldn’t avoid me his senior year. He was, until the second semester of his senior year, a kid who did nothing. Suddenly he started to try, and it wasn’t only because he was scared about not graduating. It was genuine. I saw him a year after he graduated at one of the high school football games. He made a point to tell me he changed because he saw how hard I worked, and it made him want to work hard for me. I cried. I know I’ll never hear that again, and I understand that some may have a hard time believing that any kid said that. It’s like the one thing we want to hear. So it’s hard this year to have seniors who take advantage of and disrespect my understanding, flexibility, and compassion by doing nothing and making weak excuses—especially considering that I haven’t been feeling well for the last few months. This is worse than senioritis. I’m tired. |
| It's been so long, but...I'm going to be published! I had to take "The Accident" down once I submitted it to 101 Words . I basically took a scene from another WIP that I felt could stand on its own, and then I worked for a few weeks to get it to a point where I felt confident submitting it. Getting a full blown story written without fluff to 101 words exactly was a fun challenge.I heard back about 4 days ago. It was a form acceptance letter, so that was odd, but it was personalized after the formal acceptance part. I got a brief summary of her reaction to the piece, and then she took it almost line by line and made suggestions along with rationale for those suggestions. In typical artist fashion, I wasn't a huge fan of most of them, but I wasn't going to scream. When it was my turn, I argued to keep a few of what I originally had written, and I grit my teeth with the rest. Thankfully she was really cool about it. I've been published before , but I don't know how much it counts to have someone come into wdc, find what they think is a good piece, and not want to mess with it a little. But it was really, really flattering. Especially for a beginning writer. I haven't read it since--it's been over 10 years--so I don't know how I'd feel about the story today, BUT I'll take it.It's just very cool. Now to hear about my 4k word story. I've shut that down on here too, just in case. Cross your fingers! This one deserves a really good home. |
| Crazy how things change so quickly. I barely remember what brought me to "I don't want to do this anymore." I'm so excited, though. I brought it up to my husband, and I don't think he saw it coming. We haven't really talked about it beyond about 15m of me justifying this decision and him kind of staring off, and more is going to need to happen soon because I'm thinking of starting the copyediting certificate program in the next week. Or joining a class on MS Office apps so I can be an admin assistant (reaching for the stars, I know, but life is about more than work and nobody gives two shits about teachers anyway). I also want to work part time, but I don't know if that's possible. Remote would be fine, too--in fact, if I'm doing copyediting, I'd prefer it. That said, I need to be around people, too, so I don't know. I won't lie: it makes me nervous to go private sector (or government, if it's state and a drug test won't get me fired). I'm a little afraid I'm going to throw a shit ton of changes my husband's way, so I'm going to watch that. There's so much. I'm just over teaching. I'm over how broken education is, how minimal of an impact I'm making because I just can't get involved in the school, I've lost my creativity, I've lost my give-a-damns. The school I work at is trash, and I have the hardest time even with my work friends. I work with bitches, ask anyone. There's the option to take a year off and apply to the other school. I won't shut that idea down yet. I've never felt the calling to teach, and I've always kept this door to leave it open. I don't think even I thought I'd actually close it, though. If I can find a way to not go back next year, this semester will be a lot nicer. I know there's a chance I'll need to go yet another year, and that would suck, because I would get some of the kids I had last year and I'd really, really rather not. Honestly it's just so much fucking stress. This change, though? Feels like the best kind of energy to bring into 2024. |
| The last few days I've been seriously considering not teaching next year. Not that I'm not reminding myself about the schedule being kind of great (summers, Christmas)--but it's hardly restful. And I know I enjoy teaching a lot sometimes, but god. It's been hard. I don't know what I would do. I don't necessarily see myself doing other things, which is kind of worrisome. I went back to work for my mental health, and I know that being alone for an extended period isn't good for me, so I'd have to figure something out, even if it's part time. I could work in an office for sure, but then again I don't know that I would enjoy it. Retail? Mindless but degrading. I looked at copyediting. That's an option, but I'd need to take some classes. I can hear my husband now: wait until you get the copy editing certificate--but I'm tired. Break after break, length of the break doesn't matter. I am exhausted. I don't want to deal with parents, with seniors who don't care, with coworkers who are bitches. Grading is a demotivating chore, advocating for kids to get help who are instead told they'll never graduate with their peers. I've lost my edge, my creativity. I don't have the energy or motivation to do anything for me, and my health is suffering because of it. Money will be an issue...kind of. Principals (my husband is one) do okay for themselves. We'll have to adjust, though, for sure. And, you know, maybe I would go back--hopefully to another school in the district, but even then I'm unsure because my husband has every chance to make Superintendent someday, and I don't think I could work under him with the conflict of interest. Mostly, though, when I think about leaving? I feel better. Excited. That really says something. I have an appointment with my psych next Friday. Tomorrow I'm going out of town with my husband and intend to bring it up. Wish me luck. |
"(I) I wish that I could dance on a single prayer (I) I wish I could be strong without somebody there (I) I wish that I could dance on a single prayer (I) I wish I could be strong without the scheiße, yeah" This song by Lady Gaga is on repeat both in my head and on my Spotify, and I think it's because it's resonating with me.In case you're wondering, scheiße in this context means "bullshit." "Love is objectified By what men say is right Scheiße, Scheiße be mine Bullshit be mine" Anyway there's a vulnerability to this song that I identify with. I know what I need to do to feel stronger both mentally and physically, as well as healthier and more independent, but I'm not doing it and I don't quite understand why. But the intent is there, and I'm working on stoking that fire. Like with exercise. It was a hobby in my early to mid-30s, but now it needs to just be a thing or I'm going to die of heart disease, and I think about death enough as it is. I'd rather it stay an abstract idea than something that I come face to face with any time soon. Welcome to your 40s. Maybe I'm lazy, but maybe it's the two years of depression that has rendered me exhausted. Either way, I need to figure something out. Until I do, I'm going to harass myself with these thoughts. It's how I self-motivate. Now, I don't recommend it, because it's just more stress that I could alleviate by just doing the thing, but there it is. Hopefully I get off my ass soon. Also, so much love to Mama Monster. God I love Gaga. |
| Last night I had a plan: 1. Get up early (no problem because I can NOT sleep lately and I still have energy) 2. Eat 3. Go to the gym 4. Shower 5. Work on grading essays 6. Friend comes over at 11. Friends, it's been months if not a year since I've been to the gym. This isn't some New Year's resolution bullshit either, this is me wanting (but not enough, apparently) to get back to where I used to be. Mind you, this won't happen. Where I used to be was about 30 pounds, a good wrist, stronger ankles, and a surgery ago. Apparently a hysterectomy tends to lead to weight gain after (mine was a partial though, so I don't know?). I also had a ton more time. I don't know. I know I feel better when I work out, but when I say I am bone tired I mean I am bone tired--moreso in the afternoon. My doctors and I are working on this. But here's the other thing. I'm on break, so going to the gym at my preferred time early in the morning is not sustainable. I won't be getting up at 3:30-4am once school is back in session so I can go to the gym. This fucked up sleep schedule of mine isn't going to last forever. I go through these phases; it's just been a while since my last one. Talk about this led my psych to use the phrase "bipolar spectrum." We're working on a lot. I have so much I'm trying to do and work on, but I first need to get to a point where I can work on them. My motivation levels are trash (I know, I know: working out helps with that, but did I mention bone tired?) and while I'm not depressed, I'm not not-depressed either. I'll probably get to those essays today, though. I really need to. Then I need to go to my classroom, grab the rest of my filled out rubrics for the damned projects that the kids--seniors--really dropped the ball on, and give written feedback on them on Google Classroom because I will hear about it otherwise. "Why'd I get an F? I worked hard on that!" "You worked hard on copying and pasting, kiddo." Usually I have a winter break free of grading, but not this time. This time I decided to give real finals. The projects were a mess, though. I'm not sure how I'll do that next time. What's nice is that my friend can't come over--sick kid. I haven't seen her in at least a year (we used to be roommates; she's like a sister), but it's good. Her present hasn't come in yet and I just want the day to get shit done. The gym, though? If I'm being honest, it probably won't happen. Can't find my AirPods on top of everything else, so I'd just be walking the treadmill, watching a silent television screen. I'm really good with excuses. I should capitalize on that. |
| It's finally break. And I have things to grade. I had students trying me by handing in super late work, including a few honors students. One emailed me, frantic and a little rude, with her mom up her ass about missing work. Mind you, this girl had an A- even with missing work. Can't I just N/A something because she decided to go on a field trip with the elementary kids to be a counselor? No. Can I just accept work that's a month late when I gave her more than enough time to make it up? No. Her friend, who had also fallen behind but for other reasons, has a C+ and turned in some seriously late work. It's going to suck when she doesn't get credit for it. Don't do the work before talking to me, but they do it for guilt reasons. "I did the work; where's my credit?" They have no idea what they're asking of me. I had an honors boy email me for not one but two extensions on his essay (he got one because he had been sick). This same kid spent the first in-class essay work day doing his math work because he didn't have a computer. I advised him to do some work like looking for evidence in his book--paper is still a thing--but he chose instead to work on something else. Yesterday I get an email. "Can I have another extension?" No. And then I called him out. Another girl, with a 0.7% in the (regular) class, went to her counselor asking her to ask me for a deal to work in the library instead of attending class. She would check in every day and get her work done. She also wanted to take the final. No. I've made deals like that before with kids with Fs but not like that, kids who have cut my class. They burned me. I'm over it. I professionally told the counselor to fuck off with the request. She apologized. I'm known to give grace, but I'm getting over it. They take advantage, and with little appreciation. A few years ago I had appreciation. Not anymore. It's just expected. So it's break, and I'm going to be grading, and I'm anticipating kids who will beg for better once we get back to school because the grading period doesn't end until three days after we get back. I'm looking forward to getting kids who never had to deal with school during the beginning of Covid. It'll be some more years, but it'll come. In the meantime, I'm glad to be getting my balls back. I really softened after the first years of Covid, and it worked for a little bit but it's not working anymore. I have no problem giving grace still. These kids are going through some shit I both know about and will never know about--some of it will break your heart. They're humans with jobs and stress of college and parents up their ass (or not, and that's another problem) and too young to understand that phones and friends can be horrible distractions, but they need to have fun too. I love teaching seniors, but there are real challenges that come with it. They need expectations and boundaries, and my being in the conflict-averse state that I've been in creates even more challenges. I'm trying, and saying "no" is the first step. It's going to suck for some of them. |
| I'm going to say something here that I certainly haven't said out loud: My heart rate is kind of high lately. I often find myself trying to slow it down. My anxiety is thinking about hospital stays and heart attacks and my great-grandpa who died because he was too stubborn to see a doctor and how I'm only 42 what the fuck. If I had to guess, it's the way I eat. It's trash. I used to eat well but for the longest time now I've been in survival mode. I'm trying, but my best just isn't enough yet. I don't know, man. I need to make some changes. I'm just bone and soul tired. |
| Counting today, there are three more half-days until winter break. Three weeks of it, too, plus another week in February and yet another around Easter. We're a little spoiled in the spring, but then again we don't get out until the second week in June and begin in the second week of August, if that. I hope I use my time wisely, because it usually takes me a minute to want to grade something, but it's going to be a lot this semester. I did it to myself, but at least they're not throwaway finals. That said, we have a department party after school today when we should be grading, and tomorrow there's a whole-staff party when we should be grading. I'd like to miss both, but I probably shouldn't and won't. Friday I'll have about three hours to grade. It would be four but I'm also coming home early for a therapy appointment, so grading at home it is. I don't get paid for that, but who the fuck cares, I guess. And, really, who stays the whole required time on the Friday before break? Boy scouts, and I'm no Boy Scout. That's my husband's department. Today will be easy. Class one: work day, presenting, movie; class two, party. Yesterday my stress levels were very much down. They're starting to go back up because I know the avalanche of shit to grade is coming very soon. My back is to it, but I can hear the rumbling. May I actually get some time to just chill this winter. |
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