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Everything's on a spectrum. I'm somewhere in the middle. |
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** You wear your mask I'll wear mine They don't come cheap But they fit just fine You can be her And I can be him And we'll both sink While the rest all swim --The Fratellis, "Imposters" Please check out my other two blogs--they're blasts from a decade-old past:
The first blog: "Invalid Item"  And the second: "Invalid Item" |
| I've been wanting to write an entry for a few days, but what do you say? The world is on fire, and I'm slipping. I don't have much work to do (really, if any), so I'm literally walking around the house going nuts inside. The other day I had a suicidal thought whisper past, and that scared the shit out of me. Not enough to do anything--what're you going to do? but still. I have to keep busy somehow. I don't know how to do that this summer. So I try to do things about it: armchair activism (don't shit on it; it's opened my eyes so much), donating to bail funds and Black Lives Matter, signing petitions, contacting representatives, etc. But it doesn't feel like it's enough. In another life I'd be on the streets protesting. Instead I'm here. Anyway, here's a place you all can donate to . It takes whatever you can give and equally (unless you say otherwise) distributes that money to 37 or so different organizations.Money where your mouth is. Walk the talk somehow. Even if you don't have money and wish you could donate, you can even watch some YouTubers' videos -- keep the ads on, because some will donate their ad revenue to appropriate organizations. Here's the one I keep hearing about. My husband told me just about an hour ago that he never imagined it could get this bad with Trump. I've always known it could. I wish he recognized that more often. |
| The other day someone asked on Twitter what we would do differently if we were 18 again, knowing what we know now. I have a few thoughts. 1. I'd have to be at least 17, if not 16. I feel like my 18th year sealed my fate for the next ten years. My course was set--other options wouldn't have been better for me. 2. If I did, I'd do my best to convince myself to--I want to say convince myself to go after my crush on Christina, but she was very religious and scared of not being, so that wouldn't have worked. And again, course was set. 3. I've learned through having a mini-me 17 year old daughter that I wouldn't have listened to me anyway. 4. Ideally, I would've started over again at about 14 and worked my ass off to go to UC Santa Cruz. I very much remember staring at the gay dorms, afraid my mom would notice. I don't know if she did. 4a. All things considered, it would've sufficed for me to go to a more local college where I could've lived with some roomies. Maybe. My family had no money. Going to my local CC was hard enough. No money meant pushing back taxes and, even though I tried, I couldn't say my dad claimed me as a dependent. 5. I love my husband. I just wish I'd had a chance to get to know myself more, trust myself, be a kid/young adult. I know he has regrets too. For anyone reading, how would you answer that question? |
| My principal lied to me about when he told the other girl she had the room. Fuck that guy. I need to confront him about this. I'm getting all conspiracy theorist about it. My department head knew I wanted her room, but she adores the other girl who used to be her student. She also seems to think I'm a mole or at least a potential mole for the district. A few months ago she yelled across a busy hall, "Your husband worships [this woman at the district who she loathes]" Me then: "C'mon, don't be like that" What I would say now: "I'll be sure to divorce him." Fuck I hate people. She's been on my case since January, shitting on most everything I say. Being a jackass back is the way to go. And I'm out of things to do. Fewer and fewer kids are doing the work. If you want something reviewed, send it my way with a note of what you'd like me to focus on. I gotchu. |
| This has been a frustrating week. I'm probably going to take that room, but not after bugging my principal about the complete lack of storage. He offered me a metal cabinet (these are not that big) and then suggested I "streamline" what I keep in my classroom. Y'all I can't keep much in my closet of a room to begin with. He's pissing me off. But. Yanno. I think I have to take it. It's horribly symbolic to leave the English hall. Paranoid me is afraid I'm not fitting in because I'm in isolation mode anyway which is just not helping. I'm trying to find ways to make this move more palatable. I'm really trying. It's what I do. Lemonade out of lemons -- without the sugar. |
| There aren't many times when I feel I'm owed or deserve something, but I'm there now. I bust my ass for work. Bust. My. Ass. I left my last school and a great classroom for a glorified closet. Now it was next to the English office, which is fantastic, but it's a glorified closet. I cannot easily fit the 35 average kids I get in there. It's just not happening. My department head is retiring, so I talked with my principal a few times about wanting to move. Last year I gave up a room to someone with a classroom outside of our hall because I wanted her to be with the rest of the department. He gave it to her. Cool. I'd take the department head's this next year. I didn't email my principal right away to remind him because of all of this COVID shit. I knew he was busy. But then I just did it, and I was told that someone "with a less desirable room" was getting it. Yo who has a less desirable room than me? OH it's the room the woman who I advocated for in getting a room in our hallway last year! "But you can have that room if you like." Y'all, the girl who's getting the department head's room is new. Like first job, going into her second year ever new. Her room is not great but it's okay. I've been put through the gamut at this school, put up with a lot and so I get the step up but still shitty room? Because I'm trying to respect time and stress levels? Yes I'm salty. This room is bigger. I can move around much more easily -- the flow is so much better. I'll have a smart TV. Imma get myself a mini fridge and coffee maker because it's far enough away from everyone that I don't want to deal with going to the English office to put my lunch away, etc. And while I want to be around a few people in my hallway, sometimes my department drives me up the fucking wall and so it'd be nice to be away from them sometimes. But there are three walls. The other walls are covered in white boards. The fourth wall is an accordion panel. I have shit to put up! Guys, this may sound ridiculous to you, but it's not. I just want to feel appreciated. I've put in a lot of time and put up with a lot of shit. The least they could do is give me a good room. Especially if they want me to stay, and I'm not convinced I will anymore. On top of it all, my husband works at the district office and my department does fun things like call the DO Nazis. They're not great at all, but ffs. I think a few worry I may be a mole. Honestly, they can fuck off. |
| I'm doing everything I can lately to avoid getting depressed. Staying busy. Going on walks. Getting high. Continuing to edit a story that's just fine because I can't wrap my head around a new story line. Wrapping my head around a lot of things is tough. I'm here to review so I can avoid Depression, though I'm also isolating myself from many of my friends. I cannot handle the weight of their issues. I cannot, and I matter too. My anxiety is heightened, too, which is fun. I have severe work email anxiety, so even though it's been really good, I still freak out. Who's going to lose their shit? So I keep busy, but it's not easy during this lockdown, and thoughts start going rogue and become obsessive. About a month ago I was becoming a mess and almost talked to Eric about it through tears. It was the closest I'd ever gotten to telling him that I need the experience of kissing a woman. It's so hard. I don't know what to do or how to do it. But damn it, life is short. We all deserve these things. But thinking of him doing something similar is tough, and that's what holds me back. I did get my preliminary schedule for next year, which means I can keep busy by planning (both for in-class and online, just in case). Sophs and Seniors. I had a few kids I had their sophomore year ask if I was teaching seniors, so I volunteered. Y'all, last year with seniors was so tough. I'm not saying I'm not incredibly nervous about doing this again, but I know the culture of the school better, much as it pisses me off, and I'm pretty sure I have my land legs, and I'm not new without any knowledge of what's going on (what the actual fuck, department), so there's less for the kids to fuck with me about. One thing about teaching the lower-level classes is that kids will lose their shit, but it's a different type. It's a freshman calling you a fucking bitch. It's kids saying loudly in the hallway that they cannot stand you. It's having to intervene in a fight. It's teaching gang members and future gang members who are still just kids. You see the good kid in there, and then they turn and tell you they hate you. It's tough. And you try to not give up, but eventually you realize that you're not going to bond with everyone, and that's okay. As long as they have someone. It's also teaching really sweet kids who just need help but can't get the help they need because these lower-level classes are saturated with behavioral problems. Guess what happens when you shove a bunch of behavioral problems in the same class? That's right. So seniors. They lose their shit because they feel big. They lose their shit because things are getting REAL. They lose their shit because they're scared. Their parents lose their shit because their baby needs a C even though they're planning on going to a university (one who made my life hell last year and I was told to "reconsider their grade" because they were "college-bound" ended up at a community college and YES I'm salty af about that.) It'll be okay. It'd better be. I've had good years with seniors before. But all of this is factoring in. It doesn't have to be happening to affect me. And I haven't contacted my doctor because I don't think there's much he'll do/can do. So I'm trying to write, review, plan, etc. I'm trying to keep busy. But I'm tired, and I could use a little real romance in my life. |
| I'm looking to review pieces with the time I tend to have now, and I just ran into two texts that were anti-gay. Fuck you guys. |
| Y'all I am so tired. Got home from NOLA last Monday; Wednesday we drove 12 hours to SLC for a family reunion. Just got back yesterday. I feel like I'm faced with so much crap. Challenges: - I'm having uterus issues, so I'm worried about that. Somehow got an appointment today instead of two months from now. - This country largely sucks and I'm pretty scared. I consider myself a pretty rational person, but this shit is not okay. - I'm afraid my friend might have a crush on me. I know she's hooked up with other close friends of hers, and while she seems to regret it, I don't think she really does. Plus it's just a hard no from me. - I said some dumb things in NOLA, I guess. I'm reconsidering aspects of my sense of humor. It's one thing for someone to not get it, but idk if it's really all that funny anymore. And I also participated BRIEFLY in some jokes about following the cast when they walked down the street. I know better--they're hella respectful to their fans, so we should be as well. Anyway, someone heard us. I feel like a jackass. - Took shitty pictures with the celebs I met (except for, like, two). People tell me otherwise, but I'd rather be proud for myself. I know what a good picture of me looks like, but I still wonder if I see myself that much differently from others. - I got a med adjustment prior to NOLA. Usually it hits pretty fast; this time it's not hitting much at all. It took care of the seriously self-deprecating thoughts, but those are making a comeback. The other aspects of the depression seem to be gone. But I'm still irritable, acting like a jerk to my family and friends, impatient, tired ALL the time, and can't seem to get words out at times. I'm also antsy af. On a related note, I legitimately wonder if I have ADD and I'm scared to bring it up to my psychiatrist who hasn't even known me for a year but will dismiss it and call it part of the bipolar. But my anxiety has been through the roof for a while now. It got so bad in SLC I avoided the park bathroom. I was afraid of public bathrooms for at least 22-23 years. It's not a point of pride for me, but it brings my point home. - My hand tremors have gotten worse. I'm hoping it's the ridiculous amounts of sugar I've ingested lately. - I realized I largely haven't felt well all year. Probably related to said sugar. Good things: - I'm starting to get a hold of my appetite I think - I got into my doctor's early for the uterus BS - I'm seeing my psychiatrist on Wednesday - I'm considering getting my masters in Language and Literacy. This means I can be a reading specialist for kids who really struggle with reading; it also would mean I could be an instructional coach and help other teachers be better with it as well (so, so many secondary English teachers are under the false pretense that they don't know how to teach reading. They do, but this would be more in-depth and I could help them) - Pretty sure my migraines and/or severe tension headaches have decreased - I met a few friends in SLC who I've known online for at least 10 years - I met and spoke with Melanie Scrofano a few times as well as Michael Eklund from Wynonna Earp (Wynonna and Bobo, respectively). Melanie is the funniest person I might be aware of, and Michael is so freaking kind and thoughtful. I also got a picture with Kat Barrell and Dominique Provost-Chalkley (Nicole and Waverly, respectively), but there wasn't much in the way of talking. - I was told on a few occasions in NOLA that I'm hot. I don't believe it for a second -- I'd settle for pretty, but it was nice. So much better than "cute." The biggest plus? I didn't mention that nobody ever tells me that, so it seems much more genuine. - Ate alligator. If this doesn't impress you, consider that I'm a burger and fries girl. It wasn't until I met Eric that I've tried new things. - I've been up since 3am and have gotten SO much done. I'm waiting for the nap to hit. - Re: American bullshit -- I've been writing like crazy to my senators and representative and calling them out on Twitter and Facebook for simply pontificating and not clearly doing shit about it. Consider that these are people who are in my party. One in particular I'd love to see become president one day: Kamala Harris. I think she has a better shot at VP right now. |
| So, NOLA: day one (I'm here for at show convention for Wynonna Earp) --Smoked my first cigarette...s (yeah yeah. It was something I always wanted to try) --had a cigar. --Had an older woman offer to make out with me. Didn't take it, but I've gotten a few of "hey you're so not ugly" messages today, which has been sorely needed. --Got in the same elevator as Kat fucking Barrell (Nicole in said tv show). We weren't going anywhere until we saw her get in and then, yanno, had an urge to go upstairs. Are we going to the 10th floor? Uh yeah. weird coincidence! That's really it other than I'm in New Orleans for the first time. Everything's seafood here. I need this. |
| I'm supposed to find another therapist. I hate this. I hate therapists. Stopped with my last one because she seemed to think I could do or feel no wrong and she seemed anti-meds and didn't seem to get that i'm bipolar and suggested it was the media's male gaze that made me think I was attracted to women. I had to stop seeing her when I started letting that last part happen more. I didn't feel safe talking about it because she never wanted to acknowledge my awful side (and I was feeling like I was being really awful) and because she didn't seem to think bisexuality exists. Anyway, I've been fighting increasing anxiety and depression for 2wks to a month. I had a Sunday that had me two steps from suicidal thoughts. The "you know if someone crashed into me and i died, cool" thoughts. I've been interrupting everyone lately, which (i think) is a manic thing, but idk. I'm also easily pissed off, could not bring myself to pay bills even though I knew we were probably late, forgot to call in for a sub, forgot to lock doors, lost my license (but I lose stuff constantly), etc. And right now my "you're ugly and you suck" thoughts are getting loud and following through with "you don't think you're ugly but consider that nobody has told you anything genuine about your looks in a LONG time" And I'm drowning in a problem I can't talk about even with Eric or my close friend (we've talked but not a lot) about. So I'm a bitch to be around, and to fight that I drink or get high (never at work, chill). When I'm busy I'm okay but ugh. With all of this, my doc might say to me as he did last time with the manic month: "You should have called me." And I think I know why I haven't. I did think about whether or not I should, but I fell back instead on my background knowledge of "deal. you'll probably get through it." I always have, right? What do I even call about? My mania is mild but it's annoying and...well let's just say I'm glad I have patient friends. And the suicidal thoughts, even passive or ideation, prrrrrrrrobably merit a call. Yeah. Hopefully he adjusts my meds a bit. I have a really fun convention to attend this weekend in Louisiana, and I don't want to be sad and seriously self-deprecating. I'd rather not think about my not being attractive, messing up my life, being dumb, etc. while I'm supposed to have fun. The anxiety and depression doesn't just come from my job (that's another post: I won't teach seniors). It's a good hunk of it, but it's not just my job. It's in my genes, and it's somewhere else right now too, and I don't know what's going on with me. |
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