Everyone knows that Mondays are rough. Every seven days we encounter one. But not all Mondays are created equal. Thank goodness most Mondays are not like today. Since the beginning of September I have only had to work one of these terrible days until today (thanks to Labor Day and many, many Jewish holidays). And now I am paying the price.
Let me back it up. Last week I went for a medication reevaluation for my depression and anxiety and Dr. S decided to switch my meds. So I have stopped one that was helping me sleep, am slowly decreasing one over the next week and a half and at the same time introducing two more slowly into my system. Whoever coined the phrase “better living through chemistry” has not lived through the fun of withdrawal symptoms and side effects. Now I am NOT complaining… if you read the side effects/withdrawal symptoms of the four meds I am taking, the list is longer than my arm and downright scary. But my worst symptoms, irritability and insomnia, are making me downright scary (might be a slight exaggeration). I have been open and honest with my family since last Friday about my unusually short patience and tried to avoid situations that would provoke me. Until today.
I love kids. I love my kids. I love my students. I love my little artists. That’s why I am a mom. And a teacher. But today I began to seriously question “Why?” Some of you reading this are my colleagues, parents of current or former students, and fellow art teachers - what I am going to say is still probably not a surprise. Some days I just want to put my head down on the desk and cry. Or pull my hair out. Or scream. Or drink heavily. Or, like today, all of the above. I did none of these… instead I used my breathing techniques, reached out, and inhaled some essential oils (aromatherapy); unfortunately, they did not help as much as the things I didn’t do.
In the bathroom at school today I used the stress relief hand lotion; at home I drank some mild tension calming tea (I don’t think they have an extreme tension variety); and I can tell you my review of each would not be favorable. Dan even played Enya on our sound system for me. It was that serious. But I am still addled.
The combination of my state of mind with students who have been out of a Monday routine for a month-and-a-half can best be summed up by my eight year old. When my friend asked how I was doing today, my daughter responded on my behalf with “stressed, tired, annoyed, gloomy and a joy to be around.”
And on that note, I am going to take a bath (with
Comments
Post a Comment