Another brick in the proverbial "Wall"

This time of year for teachers is like walking on eggshells with numb feet. At any moment, one of those teacher eggs may crack and one may never know because most everyone is numb to their stresses. The kids are revved up with knowing there is only so much time left in the school year. Teachers are overworked and stressed with prepping kids for tests that supposedly reflect on what has been taught and what has been learned.  [Insert clearing of throat sound here.]

You can see the teachers trying to keep up their energy, their optimism. And then....BAM! The "wall" comes out of nowhere.

I remember one year when I was teaching seventh grade English, our assistant principal told our grade level to watch out for each other at this time of year. "If you see one of your colleagues losing it, step in. Tell them to walk away for a bit." Students don't understand how exhausting teaching is. Parents don't understand. And administrators often forget because many have not been in the classroom for so long. I can still "taste" my utter fatigue from teaching in the classroom. I haven't forgotten. It's the type of fatigue where you are up late at night, planning, grading, falling asleep with your fingers poised to type on the keyboard or with a pen in your hand pressed to paper ready to write a comment on an essay. You awaken at 3am in the same position you were working in at midnight.

Public Domain from Pixabay

The Wall

It comes in all kinds of forms: Fatigue. Stress. Emotional exhaustion. Guilt. Outside pressures.

Circumventing the Wall

For me, it's knowing I have done all I can do. At some point, I have to go to sleep at a decent hour. I'm no good if I stay up late and have to get up early to "rinse and repeat."

I'm honest with my colleagues, with my students, with my family. 

I accept limitations.

I distract myself from the wall, even if it is brief.

I run. (literally, and not away).

I seek help.

I know that the obstacle is finite; eventually, it will crumble.

Impact

It's difficult to know how my actions will affect others. Sometimes, I know precisely what I've done that may have an impact on another; however, I think most of the time, I am somewhat oblivious of the direct consequences of what I have "done" today and how it may affect someone else's tomorrow.

Today, I've suffered from migraine. I've fought this particular one for three days. Days of being in and out of focus, depending upon how the medicine I take to combat the pain affects me. There are times when I take the medicine and forget entirely that my body is in the background fighting the migraine. I wonder later, "Why am I so fatigued, and it's only six in the evening? Oh, yeah, I had a migraine earlier." The truth is the migraine is still there, running in the background like a network's filtering system. Well, I guess the meds are the filtering system trying to keep the migraine from affecting my hardware.

From Pixabay: http://goo.gl/nXkdnD

Day 3--Relpax, 40mg.

I'm in a state of succumbing to the side-effects of the meds. I've taken an anti-nausea to combat the waves but the Rel-pax gives me that feeling of when one can "taste" sleep. It's lulling me to check out for a while. I can't. I shouldn't. I won't. I did.

I'm in a twisted shape so it is sure to affect someone else's tomorrow. I'm fairly certain that my migraine will lead to confusion of anyone who may interact with me. My language becomes elusive and the formation of words garbled. Whatever I may attempt to convey in conversation today could be misconstrued and cause an awkward tomorrow.

Essentially, if people are unaware of how much a migraine and the medicine can affect a person, their understanding is minimal.

So, let me apologize today for tomorrow.