7 (ish) more weeks left in the school year. That's really not that much time. I'm already freaking out about how I'm going to get through the rest of the curriculum in that amount of time. But that's not what I've come to write about. I'm here to talk about my on-going battles with horrible anxiety.

You would think that this far into the school year I wouldn't be having panic attacks on Sunday nights just at the thought of having to be in front of all those students. You would think. But alas, I still have major anxiety. I took some meds for a little while but the prescription ran out, and to be honest, it didn't really help all that much to warrant going back to see a doctor and get more. I now just take a little bit of Zquil to help me sleep when the anxiety is too bad (that's really all the xanax did anyway). 

I think my body has just become used to the anxiety. I'm not sure if I'm really even anxious any more, or if my body just expects to be anxious, so it gets that way. I would love to wake up on a Monday, and just be able to go to work without feeling like I'm going to burst into tears at any moment, or feel like I can't breathe. I get up WAY TOO EARLY to teach, and my mom has graciously let me wake her up at that ungodly hour to talk about what's bothering me, and reassure me that I'm not going to screw up too much or do something incredibly wrong. It's really been a big help. For a while after I started, when I was still having MAJOR issues with classroom management and behavior (which aren't all that much better, but still better), I was waking my mom every morning. I felt terrible. Plus, you feel a little silly waking your mom up to talk with you before you go off to a job like being a teacher. How am I supposed to shape the youth of America when I still need my mom to tell me I'm going to be okay before heading out the door? It's actually embarrassing. But it did help.

This morning I really tried to buck up and push through. I got through the morning with no tears. And without having to wake my mom up to talk. But I still had that heavy feeling in my chest like I couldn't breathe. It sucked. At least this morning wasn't too much of me teaching, more students doing. Yet I some how managed to break my favorite coffee cup and spill coffee all over myself in front of the class. So that kind of broke the resolve I had. I didn't cry until their brunch break, when there were no students in my room. But I cried. I honestly wanted to fake being sick and leave. But I pushed through. It sucked, but I made it happen. 

It's the week before Spring Break. I'm burnt out and need a break big time, and the kids are no helping. They need a break too, and I feel like I'm pulling them kicking and screaming. I've had to become phone nazi. I've given 2 detentions already for using phones without permission. And I start every period with a friendly reminder but keeping them away. I don't want to be a prison warden, but that's what it feels like right now. 

The kids are also getting super lazy and entitled. The grading period ends on Thursday, and I have close to 30 (less but it's still up there) students failing between all of my classes. Most of them are in ONE class period. I've tried calling home, I've tried hovering... they just do not do anything. They'd rather sit there all period doing nothing, staring into space, than do their work and pass the class. I think I'll have to remind them that I'm teaching summer school, so unless they want to do this ALL OVER AGAIN with me, they need to start doing something now. I've given them 2 group projects so far this semester, both we went over the directions in detail and I reminded them of what they needed to do multiple times, and I had people turn NOTHING in! C'mon! Then... oh, this made me almost want to scream today. Then, some of the former A students who were mad they their grade dropped started saying that I should curve the projects since no one got a good grade, and they should still get an A even though they didn't do A work on their projects. I told them we could discuss the projects after class. But in my head I was screaming at the top of my lungs. The last project was a poster. They were given 3 days in class, and I had people literally DO NOTHING! And some of them are the ones saying that I should curve things. 

Oh yeah? I should curve it? I should give you credit for not following the directions, for wasting MY time? I stayed after school on days that aren't my normal tutoring hours to help kids, and only one or 2 showed up. I spend hours grading and even went back and gave more points to people because I felt generous. Do not ask me to curve an assignment that you chose to half ass. Even my A students didn't do A work. Just because you had an A before, does not mean you're guaranteed to keep that grade. You get the grade you earn, and if that makes me a bitch, oh well. I've been told that if the student or parents complains enough the principal might ask me to change the grade. Well, nope. I don't have a job there next year right now. I'm going to stand my ground because I'm kind of in a nothing to lose position. 

Anyway, rant over.

I was going to talk about Jon and girly stuff but I've kind of used all my energy for the time being, so I'm gonna sign off.

While watching the news with my mom today, I saw a story about a local teacher committing suicide in their classroom and being found by students.

This wasn't a teacher I knew, nor a school I went to/taught at. But this really hit home to me.

I've had depression before. I struggle with pretty bad anxiety right now. (I was crying almost all night and all morning because I was worrying about work. In fact, students could tell something was wrong and at least one student in every class period commented that I looked sad, or sick, or tired.) But it's really hard for me to think about ever doing something like so drastic as killing myself in my own classroom.

All I could think was, those poor students! They will forever live with that image in their minds. That's terrible. Then as I looked up more information on the story, I found that the woman wasn't much older than me, and she was married. How could someone so young, with so much life left... with a husband, just throw that all away. It's hard to imagine someone doing that. But that's what's so hard about mental illness, it's not always easy to see inside the head of the person or understand how they feel the way they feel.

I'm not much of the praying type, but I want to say a little prayer for her students, coworkers, and family. It's hard to lose someone and I can't imagine the pain these people are going through. Not to blame the victim in this scenario, but it's selfish to do this to people who love and care about you. I know that as much as I'm overwhelmed and anxious lately, I could never do something like that to all the people I know who care about me. I could never hurt my parents that way, my friends. I could never do that to Jon.

So this kind of helped put some of my anxiety into perspective. As tough as things are, as much as I feel like I'm drowning in work, I know it could be worse.