hiding in plain sight

This month has been rough... stressful, frustrating, painful... not one I want to redo.

Work has been a challenge. Since day one in 2003, I've doubted whether I should have ever chosen teaching as my profession. The past few weeks have brought that question back to the forefront. I have to admit, year six has been the easiest by far. I've finally found my stride, and I'm confident in what I'm doing. My new school is actually a decent place to work. People are happy there... but I still don't really care for teaching. That, however, is nothing new.

The thing that has been most different has been my social life. I actually have one. I've stayed busy with both old friends and newer ones. I've never been this busy with people. Ever.

In spending so much time with people, I've become painfully aware of how far I've fallen back inside myself. I go out several times a week, but few of these people really know me. I've kept them outside. My walls have gone back up. As I've slipped rather quickly back into my old comfortable habits, no one has noticed... because they don't know to look.

Two years ago I was less obviously social, but the people who I did spend time with knew me deeply. They knew my whole story, beginning to end, down to the most shameful details. They knew what my struggles were and noticed when I was starting to head down a dangerous path. Those relationships were excruciating for me because they required a kind of trust I still lack, but they also produced more growth and change than any before or since. I miss that.

I can list several big triggers in my life right now, but without a doubt, the biggest one is knowing that I will be making my way through the day alone and unknown, wishing that I had someone to talk to who would really understand. That one's hard to fix...

week two

The past week has been hugely frustrating.

By the time I picked my class up Monday morning I was pretty sure that it wouldn't go well. Unfortunately, I was right. I was emotionally and physically exhausted from the stress of the previous week, so every little thing felt like the end of the world. Not to mention the fact that my job is pretty emotionally demanding. Five year olds are needy, and they can't turn that off when I have nothing left to give. I was barely getting by taking care of myself. I was not up to taking care of 16 other people. At any rate, I survived... barely. My desk has morphed into one big pile of relevant verses, and just reminding myself to believe them has been a full time job.

As I prepare for tomorrow, I'm feeling a rising sense of dread. The weekend has been wonderful, but tomorrow I'll be back in the real world, dealing with all the stress that goes along with it. I know all the right answers... trust God, cry out to Him, immerse myself in His truth... and all of those things DO lessen the stress. I've been in survival mode for two weeks though. I can't sustain this much longer.

Despite the frustration and mood swings and fear of what they may mean for my future, I am clinging desperately to the joy I have. I heard a really great definition for joy a few weeks back: the overflow of peace that comes from trusting God no matter what. I've been repeating it to myself hundreds of times a day over the past two weeks. Trust leads to peace which leads to joy. The trust is what gives me the peace and joy I need to get through the day... so trust is what I'm working on.

the longest week

I started this week with exciting news: as of last Monday, I'm no longer on an antidepressant. I'm still taking my other meds for now, but hey... it's a step. The rest of the week has been varying degrees of nightmarish as I've experienced basically every withdrawal symptom ever documented.

This morning I awoke to what I hope is the light at the end of the tunnel. I can stand up without losing my balance. I don't want to scream at everyone around me. I think I might make it through school tomorrow without wanting to cry. I feel like myself again, and that's a huge relief. The true test will be to see how I feel in a month, two months, six months...

Part of me doubts that my mood will remain stable without this drug (it's the first thing that had any lasting impact on my mood swings), and the rest wonders if that's selling myself and God short. I'm not the same person who started this particular medication almost 18 months ago. Even this week, as I felt so overwhelmed I could hardly breathe, I turned to Him... to His promises to give me strength and never leave me or give me more than I can handle... and I made it through.

I'm both anxious and encouraged for the days to come... to see what healing and life they will hold!