Searching For Inspiration
I’m having a lot of trouble getting my butt in gear to get necessary work finished.
Or even started, for that matter.
It’s one of those really busy days. You know, the ones full of commitments that I just can’t flake out on because PEOPLE ARE COUNTING ON ME (voice of doom to be used on the all-caps part).
My therapist, Dee, has pointed out to me that I have always, even when I was little, been put in a place of pretty extreme responsibility. Endless sessions of digging around through the darkest corners of my disturbed mind and several weeks of Prozac have helped me realize this is true.
I am still learning how real this is.
In a way, it’s my fault. I constantly take on too much and put pressure on myself to never let anyone down. But a huge part of that comes from how I was raised. It doesn’t matter how good your childhood is, none of us walks away unscathed. It’s depressing to think that my kids will also have their fair share of problems to deal with. You know, since we make them cook and clean for us and feed us grapes and fan us with palm leaves. But hey, that’s what kids are for, right?
When I was teaching, this was a massive problem for me. I was stretched so thin it’s a wonder how I survived. My kids did amazing work, and my accomplishments as a teacher were frequently acknowledged. By the end of the school year, I turned a class of true low-performing monsters (no, for real… two experienced teachers bailed and later admitted to it when they saw what kind of cut-you-into-small-pieces-and-eat-you-alive kids were coming up) into a group of at-grade-level or exceeding-expectations fairly-well-behaved little people.
I was proud of my hard work, but it was too much. The amount of time I spent developing lessons and teaching strategies and grading and everything-else-or-I’d-die-a-slow-and-painful-death-by-fingernails-being ripped-out for my students was unreal.
And unnecessary.
It’s a wonder I didn’t lose my mind sooner.
So now I find myself in a situation where every time I have a multitude of expectations stacked on me, it’s hard for me to find the inspiration to actually get [insert expected thing here] done. Or started.
It’s kind of like I’ve hit a quarter-life-rebellion or something. You know, since I never was allowed to experience that whole phase during my teenage and college years like you’re supposed to. Because I was too busy being responsible.
Alright. I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to go cut all my hair off, dye it purple, dress like a goth-girl again, spend lots of money on frivolous things, go WILD, and come home with my nipples and clit pierced. And I need another tattoo. One that states “Kiss My Ass”. Anyone want to join me on this adventure?
Just kidding about the spending-lots-of-money part. That’s not economically responsible right now.
Current Mood:
Bored
Tags: Depression
March 5th, 2009 at 5:10 pm
i’ve been wanting another tattoo, and i almost dyed my hair purple once… but i’ve already chopped it off in a bought of post partum hormone madness, so i’m gonna have to skip that part. i would totally get my nipples pierced, but i’m afraid of the piercing getting stuck in my belt buckle, and my vagina is not pretty enough to pierce.
on a more serious note, teaching is the HARDEST JOB IN THE WORLD and no amount of money would compel me to spend that much time with a bunch of other people’s spawn, let alone try to teach them during said time. i just don’t have the patience. i could teach my own kids if i had to, but anyone who can teach other kids, and see positive results has earned my admiration, and is closer to saint hood than i’ll ever be…
March 5th, 2009 at 6:05 pm
Count me in! When do we leave?
March 6th, 2009 at 7:09 am
I have Ultra Violet Manic Panic sitting on my desk. I felt that way after the peak of my ppocd and actually went through the cut and dye (I have pictures). My hair was almost to my waist and I actually went into almost a pixie then dyed it purple. I sadly realized that I was no longer the carefree teen that used to have a Manic Panic catalog pasted on my walls. I was now a mother of three and as much as I wanted to abandon all to do my thing.. the hair cut sent me into another spiral of thinking that I was undeserving of life. So as much as I would like to join in with the “when do we leaves” I have to say been there done that .. no thanks.
March 6th, 2009 at 9:05 am
Skip the nipple-piercings, they hurt. Let’s go get the kiss marks on our butts we’ve been talking about doing FOREVER, I’ve been craving another tattoo as well!