Wednesday, December 31
Current Mood:
Sad.
Current Music: Fabolous - Into you.
Current Quote: "...I will always be a stranger who never feels at home, who does not really want and is not really wanted, who can never belong, who must always be a little in love with death!"
Current Website: Brain of Brian. Great site.
I read this page while I was surfing and it really touched me as I have felt like this sometimes. So I'll put it here.
An intense mesmorization overcame me when I woke up this morning. I was at the home I grew up in, in bed. The place where I feel safe and comfortable; a place where I know I can be who I want to be. There are no masks to put on, nor daggars to dodge. I am lost in a sea of unusual dimensions.
In bed I have no reminders that I work a respectable job, which leaves little dignity at the end of the day. Nor, do I see the scars of long nights, early mornings, verbal abuse, sexaul harassment, or dashed dreams.
Here, I just see me. The usually shy, talkative, dry humored girl, who sings loud, dances to her own beat, and voices her opinion.
Consequently, by the time I get up, I see the reminders of my work in the mirror.
I see the souless eyes stare back at me as I brush my teeth and contemplate putting my contacts in. There is nothing left in the eyes from constant torment from adults and children alike. I see my dry skin crackle as I grab my hair brush, from constant washing to ward off the last high school virus. My hair, although soft, seems to have been forgotten to be teased, as I am always in a constant rush.
Mostly, I see the smileless face that looks like a ghost. The face has been abandoned. The former self has left, and, in place, a zombie-like creature has entered my body. I do not recognize the lines where smiles once were, I do not see the happy glow I once wore. All I see is a pale, unhappy face intensely staring at itself in the mirror.
I look at it and wonder where the happy person has gone. And immediately I know. She has gone into what is called Survival Mode. Experienced by most 1st, 2nd, and 3rd year teachers, it's a state of utter exhasution, and disorientment. The other two 2nd year teachers are experiencing it, and now I am, too. This is why most teachers leave the profession, and unfortunately it's getting to me. I enjoy my students, and most of the faculty, but I am overwhelmed at the mass of paper, parents, disrespectful students and extra-duties assigned. I know I planned on teaching high school for only a little while, yet it feels like I'll never get out of it, alive anyway.
Vacation doesn't even feel like a vacation, it feels like a prison break; just a little time away from the ball and chain.
Yet, I know the moon will set, the sun will rise from its slumber, and I will be given another day. I don't know what will come of it, but I will need to make a decision; will I dare to dream, or will I drown in tidal waves.
