I went home from work today because I couldn't take it anymore.

I didn't have the strength left to get through the day. It was everything I could do to keep from crying on the bus on the way to school-- one of my students was sat in front of me. I repeated my mantras to myself the entire way. I arrived at school thinking, "You'll be fine. You can do it. You'll be fine." I stressed about my observation but kept repeating, "You'll be fine. It will be easy work. Just another day. You can do it. You'll be fine." I prepared the rest of my work for the day thinking, "You'll be fine. This will be easy. This plays to your strengths. You'll survive. You'll be fine." I checked my schedule to see if I've been used to cover a lesson during my free period at the end of the day, and I started crying. "I can't do this. I just can't."

I knew I wouldn't survive. Maybe I would be fine in my observation in the morning, I trust my skills, trust that I know what I'm doing.. But I knew I would have to push everything out, and the strength it would take to do that in order to "perform" for a formal written evaluation, I would not have enough left to tackle what was left of the day. I would have prayed to God for enough strength to persevere through my French lesson, and hope to survive, but I knew that by the time I made it to the last lesson of the day with a god awful class that gave me hell on Monday, I just knew that I would lose it, I wouldn't have been able to cope. I considered going to the vice principal and begging him to change it. But I realized that wasn't solving the problem. Work isn't the problem.

I realized this isn't normal. You shouldn't have to fight tears before your day has even started. I have had a lot of thoughts running through my head recently, but the most recurring of those thoughts is "I'm fucking miserable," and that's just not.. right. I acknowledged to myself yesterday that it is taking every ounce of my strength to just get through the day. I take my day one hour at a time; I aim to survive that hour, then the next, and then the next, until it is time to go home and just.. be. Then I dread going to bed, because it means I have to wake up and do it all over again until finally Friday arrives to give me two days of freedom and solace.

I knew I needed to go home, before the school day had even started. It felt right, but at the same time it felt stupid. I paced for a bit, trying to decide, wondering if I could just suck it up and deal.. But I knew that I would be crawling through my day, waiting for the bomb to go off, instead of doing what I could to diffuse it. I dragged my feet down to the admin building and passed my best friend's classroom. I went inside and didn't need to say much at all before tears started welling up. She could see I was at my breaking point, as she had been there before and was unfortunate enough to also have an observation that day.. where she burst into uncontrollable sobs during her feedback.. She encouraged me to go home.

So I did. I had to wait outside the vice principal's office for quite some time, and when I finally went inside I had a difficult time saying it. "I need to go home. I don't want to talk about it, I just.. I'm not in a state to teach today. Please." He didn't ask any questions, as I feared he might, but instead he quite compassionately said that it was ok, and to ring him later and let him know what's going on, and if I'll be in tomorrow. It was really nice of him actually.

I felt stupid. I still feel stupid, sitting at home, not sick, but not well enough to work because of.. this. I had to walk to the bus and wait the longest 10 minutes of my life, while the late kids made their way passed me into school. I tried my best to dodge looks, or deflect with comments like "You're going to be late!" anything I could do to fight back the need to cry just a little longer. I finally arrived at home, sighed, and opened up my computer. I sent cover work to the three different departments I was meant to teach in today, and as soon as I shut my computer I pulled the blanket over my head, wishing I could hide even deeper into a little hole, and just cried.

I don't know what it is. I don't know if I am just grieving still, or if I have triggered a bout of depression due to my grieving, or if I was on the edge of having a mental breakdown due to a combination of grieving, stress, anxiety, and just being pissed off at stupid shit with work. I don't know if I need time, or medication, or nothing. I have lived through deep depression, and I don't think this seems as bad. But at the same time, can you compare what you felt as a teen to how you feel as an adult? I am stronger, more mature, more seasoned, less hormonal. Have I built up a resistance or has my perception changed? Perhaps it is time that I just acknowledge that I am in pain, even if it "isn't as bad" and that regardless of how bad it is or seems to be, I'm simply not right, and it needs to stop. I can't live through every day looking at the clock and fighting to win every hour until it is time to go home and have a break and not need to fight anymore.

I'm wondering what to do with the rest of my day. What I want to do is fast forward until it's time to go to bed and say goodbye to this day, and hope I will wake up better with a fresh start and tomorrow will be different.