More Construction

Part 2- Under Construction 

This long update is filled with broken roads I didn’t intend to go down.  

(It took me this much time to get a hold on my stupidity. Being embarrassed doesn’t cover it.)

Several weeks ago, Friday the 12th of April, I was in a small slow wreck downtown.  I don’t like to leave campus during the day, but I needed to get the race packet for a 5k I had registered for.  This was the first time I have driven downtown since I had another fender bender back on September 27th, 2023. As I was driving I was telling myself that “it’ll be okay and I won’t make the wrong turn again.”  

And damn it, I did just like that.  

The same damn blind spot on my left peripheral vision as I scraped the driver’s side door. The other lady’s car had a few scratches: she was so kind to me.  No one was hurt, but I was in shock.  I am sorry to have squandered other peoples time and the damage on her car.  It was a very slow, slow wreck.  I couldn’t even dial my emergency contacts for Mariah.  I managed to contact one of the principals, Mr. Saker, who came to help me.  I shook on and off for several hours into the night.  

Had to get help to call Mariah.  Having to call your daughter to tell her you’ve been in yet another fender bender isn’t great. 

I was embarrassed as who else could this happen to?    I mean seriously.  I was not on my phone or anything like that.  In the wreck in September, there was no one willing to help me to be had.  I felt greatly alone. 

This time I felt like I was surrounded by angels who just wanted to remind me that there is help around me. I am praying and delving into how this could have happened again with my therapist.  I am just so grateful, and still quite rattled.  The gentlemen who are working on my car reminded me that “sometimes shit just happens.”

I have struggled since the April the 12th with my self esteem.   I am capable of great things, so why did I do something so stupid?  (Glad to have a therapist to guide me.)

 I am in a rental until I get info about my Subaru.  I have been forcing myself to drive more and more  to get my anxiety under control  while I’m driving the rental. 

I am also going to an eye doctor and a full checkup just to make sure there isn’t something more going on with my eye sight. 

I promise I am trying to be careful every day, and every way. I am not a complete idiot: I promise.   Thank you for your friendship and support.   

It's not A lot, but it is Enough (Or, Maslow was Hellaciously Right)

Lesson Three from the Big Q: Not a lot, but enough 

(Or Maslow was Right)

In my world today, Maslow is completely right.  

I could could go professional if worrying was a 

sport. I think many of could. We know it’s 

useless, but it’s something our brain can do 

while so much is out of our control. It’s 

difficult to be able to think through paying the 

bills when I know we are low on toilet paper, 

and I’ve gone to three stores over two days to 

visit the empty shelves. (We're good now.) I can't 

seem to grade when I'm worrying about my 

students and their well being. It is almost 

impossible to concentrate on lesson plans 

when it's time to change Libby’s pull up and 

give her meds while I’m worrying about whether 

or not the supplies for her feeding tube will arrive 

this week. (The supplies didn’t arrive yet, but we’re 

alright for awhile.) I can clean, paint and reorganize 

instead of dwelling on my worries about family 

during the Q.  I admit I spent two full days worrying 

about the amount of wipes we have for Libby.

  (We had three unopened wipe packages, not a lot, 

but we have enough.) 

How on earth can these students focus on any 

lessons when they aren’t sure about their parents’ 

jobs, if they can stay in their house since they 

are the only one working, what the status of their 

scholarship is, loss of time with their friends, not to 

mention the insanely important connection to their 

boy/girl friend.  There are also students who 

are sequestered in a house which is negative, 

toxic, or abusive.  These and so many other things 

are racing through my brain and theirs, meanwhile 

I’m supposed to be sharing a wealth of knowledge 

about poetry analysis and prepping them for an AP 

exam.   Yep.   That fits.  

Hand in hand with all of these worries there is 

the loss we are dealing with, loss of the life we 

had in so many ways. A new version of our lives

is on the way, but we do need to acknowledge 

this loss.

We know that it is terribly hard to think anything 

through when we are worried about our physiological 

status and our safety. Here is a real picture of me 

trying to follow a single thought and get something 

done just about every day during the Big Q. 

 Here’s part of my plan since I need a plan.  And

a list.  An actual LIST- geez.   Okay, three lists.

  (I know my over-functioning anxiety response

is in full swing here. Just let me have my lists.) 

And feel free to completely ignore these lists.

1. I started making a blessing list every morning 

of at least three things.   This is helping me focus 

on what is good and that helps open some space 

for everything else. It’s not a lot, but it is usually 

enough to help me focus a bit.

2. I also list UP TO three things I am worried about. 

Then I ask myself if I have any control over whatever 

I am worrying about. If the answer is no, then I do  

two things:  Ask myself if I can help in any way and 

ask my Higher Power to take that on for me.  This 

has allowed me to find some focus.  Not a lot, 

but enough.    

3. I also list three things I can do that day that 

will make me feel better about myself or my 

surroundings.   For me, this usually involves 

physical movement and sweat.  OR putting 

up the laundry or the dishes once they're clean.   

It doesn’t have to be a lot, because we are all 

in a prolonged stress response.  Think about 

the fight or flight response that continues for 

weeks and weeks due to uncertainty and fear 

of the unknown.  What positive steps we make 

for ourselves or our surroundings don’t have to 

be a lot as they are enough.    

https://www.vice.com/en_ca/article/n7jap8/allostatic-load-is-the-reason-you-feel-anxious-stressed-from-isolation?utm_campaign=sharebutton

You are doing an amazing job of coping in this 

changed world.  I cannot tell what is coming in our 

future, but I can tell you that we will be okay.  The

one thing I know is that there is plenty of love.  

WE can make sure there is enough LOVE to go 

around for ourselves, our family, our chosen tribes, 

and those who challenge us.    May not think it is a 

lot, but it is enough.

(Soon enough it will be time for action, but first 

let's stay safe during the Q and focus on loving.)

Lessons from the Big Q: Part One

I like to stay busy. This will come as no surprise to many of you. I like to feel productive and needed.  I abhor wasting time, so I plan ahead to circumvent said waste- making lists of what needs to be done and lists of lists. 

I’ve never been at home, as a child or an adult, for this long in my life.  I’ve always filled everyday with tasks. So, this isn’t new behavior. I like to do. 

For the first few years after Libby got sick I threw myself even further into teaching. I completed two master degrees within the first two years of her diagnosis. My pain and fear was kept at bay while I binged lots of food and even more research studies and teachery texts.  (I’ve also feared the day when Libby’s illness will require me full time and I’ll have to leave my classroom. So I teach like I’m on fire.)

Being at school was my haven. There I could teach, support, cajole, nag and love  my students, coworkers, campus. When it came time for Libby to start high school we made the painful decision to transfer Libby to my campus. Now my refuge became an even safer place for me, as Liberty was with me.  That was good. 

I have occupied myself for years, so I wouldn’t face the deluge of sad. The reality of the child I have now and the loss of the child we had.  I wouldn’t face the guilt of what I could’ve done or not done to keep Libby healthier. What I could’ve done or not done to be better for Mariah while she mourned for the sister she had and the different sister she has. Staying busy may have saved me in some ways as I’ve been able to continue the work I love and love the people I have.   

Until this quarantine I didn’t realize how much I have built myself around teaching. On being productive.  On giving and doing. Didn’t realize how important my time with students and peers is to keep my armor on.  So one thing I’ve had to answer is who am I if I’m not teaching?  

From the beginning of spring break to three weeks in I was a manic house painter, cleaner outer, organizer and stay busier. I was hiding again from the big sad.  I prefer to be outside when it’s warm.  I like working outside. Relish it.  I was especially busy.  Too busy.  

After spring week I set a schedule for myself and the house. Schedules keep me sane.  Instead of getting up at 4:00 am I get up around 5:00.  Got into the habit of being in my new “school” space by 8:00.   Rachael lovingly calls me a Labrador puppy: 100 miles per hour in all directions.   I know my business is annoying. 

I didn’t break down until four weeks into the Big Q. 

I cried for my students and for myself. It hurt so much because I rarely cry.   If I even actually let it all out I wouldn’t stop for an ugly long time.  Definitely a leak in my iron clad armor. And it’s okay. 

Gratefully, I get to see most of my students through video conferencing once a week.   I’m still teaching albeit differently.  Many things will be different after this quarantine is over. Including parts of myself.  

The morning after my “cry fest” and during my run I knew this amazing fact: I can be still.    And it’s okay.   It’s going to be okay if I’m not productive in the myriad of ways that I expect for myself.  

In my attempts at stillness I’m learning that we’re okay.  Libby is okay and mostly spectacular.   Mariah is wonderful and solid in her loving. We’re okay. 

And it’s going to be okay.  

And I can give myself permission to just be still.   I am giving myself that permission.   

Being at home for the first time in my life for this long is showing me that admitting the sad is there, with guilt as a side kick, doesn’t mean I’m embracing them.  It means that sad things happen and we’re ALLOWED to be sad and find lots of beautiful as well.  

Lesson one: be still, admit the ugly and embrace the blessings. 

I’m trying.   I’m a work in progress.