I wrote - nay, willed myself - to write a piece of hope this morning (see below.) And then the packing began, the packing. Again. Hands burning from the handles of shopping bags overstuffed with my crap, up and down the stairs to my car, drizzle intermittent, annoying, air freezing. I am tired. I am sad. I am sick of living out of shopping bags (not even "a suitcase") and not being sure where to have my mail sent. I am tired of meeting people who have jobs that fulfill them and that they love, because I am jealous of them and don't know how to do what I want to do, or how to identify what that is. I can teach, sure. Some days I am pretty good at it, most days I'm average, some days I wish I could have a do-over. Maybe I'm just overwhelmed from moving all my stuff again, and facing a Monday of school again, but I am just not excited at the thought of being a teacher for the rest of my life. Maybe I can do it for the rest of this year - I certainly hope so since I said I would - but after that? I don't know, and I don't even want to think that far ahead because two weeks from now is scary enough (when this housesitting gig is up.) Seven months now like this. I know there are lots of things God has been and will continue to be teaching me through this kind of chaos, but I am exhausted from the sheer living of it. Exhausted.
Where is the light at the end of the tunnel? Where is the hope? What will bring hope? Why does my life look like this? Why have I let it look this way? Is God mad at me? Do I even know God at all? You may read and think - "OH, Carlen. So melodramatic tonight, aren't we?" If you knew my thoughts, if you'd walked in my shoes (only have five pair with me now) then you would know I am not being dramatic - I'm not crying as I write this. I am asking. God. The Universe. What/Whomever. I don't get it. I'm going to try my damndest to go to work each day and keep my shit together for those kids. But I just don't how much a person is supposed to take. What "taking" is supposed to look like.
God, I'm tired of myself.
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3 comments:
leave it to me to lurk, and then dive in when it's gloomy...
If it makes you feel any better, I feel a lot like you do. But I'm convinced that these are the "dark strokes" in the paintings of our lives...trite and corny, I know...but it's comforting to know, sometimes. When all you do is wrong, when everything feels phony, when you just want to punch someone (or yourself)...hang in there. Again, I know it sounds trite and simple...but don't be discouraged. If you just zoom out from the muddy pixel and take a look at the big picture...it helps. You've got my thoughts and prayers. And for what it's worth, I don't really trust anybody who doesn't hate themselves if even just a little bit...Not sure if that's Biblical, but it's how I feel!
You're not alone...
Thanks, Adam. A lot. Biblical, schmib-lical. It helps to know I'm not alone.
Now that I know you're lurking, I'm nervous about writing. Great. I'll have to step up my game now. But I'm glad about it - really!
Just the fact that you're aware of your teaching performance and want to be superb puts you way above all but like two of my high school teachers.
But I'm sorry about packing, does sound like a drag. Paper or plastic?
Try Psalm 39:7, I've been known to read it, put it on the refrigerator, cling to it like Matlock. (Yeah, that was supposed to be funny random, but it kind of came out dumb random!)
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