If you read my blog about my summer in Paris, you’d never know that I had a panic attack every other day. You wouldn’t know that I had to take sleeping pills to sleep every night and that I was miserable and lonely all of the time. I debated about keeping up this blog in a similar manner. However, I have recently decided that I have absolutely no reason to hide who I am or the actual experience that I am having. So I’m going to be 100% real with y’all.
I am having a panic attack. I am trying to make it go away by writing through it. I am having a hard time breathing and I’m pretty sure I’m going to vomit up the fried pickles I had for dinner and I am sobbing uncontrollably.
This is hard. This isn’t even the hard part yet. Right now, I still have dozens of TFA staff members holding my hand, and delivering me three meals a day accompanied by an endless supply of diet Pepsi (it’s not my beloved Diet Coke but alas I’ll be in Atlanta soon). Now, I’m only scheduled from 8 to 8 everyday. In a few days, the workload will intensify, and in two weeks, I’ll have the additional stress of actually teaching a real live class to real students everyday. The third day of induction isn’t supposed to be the day that breaks you, but today it did.
Today was a lot of self-reflection. Thinking about the person who I am and my strengths and my “areas of growth.” We spent the afternoon talking about the need to build meaningful relationships- which if you’ve ever talked to me in real life, you’ll know is not my strong suit. I’ve been thinking about who I am and who I want to be, because now I have this clean slate. I broke down because I do not want this clean slate. My heart is rejecting it, but my head knows I need it. Today my head could not reason with my heart. I am not okay with moving on. I don’t want to forget my friends, and I don’t want them to forget me. I don’t want everyone to have new jobs and new lives and new boyfriends and new families. I want to go back to my couch with my Miller Lite and my Oreos and New Girl…or with red wine, popcorn and Scandal…or with diet coke, a Pizza Hut dinner box, and Shark Tank. This whole everyone moving on thing, it isn’t fair. I just figured it all out in DC! And now I’m starting over! WHY on earth am I choosing to start over????
Because I need it. Yeah, yeah I know. You don’t have to tell me. Change is good. Blah blah blah. Insert inspirational quote here. I’m still mad and bitter and bothered. But I’m not having a panic attack any more! I can breathe again. I didn’t vomit. I’m not crying. I promise, Mom. In this minute I’m okay. I’m hoping that the next minute will be better than the last, but even if it’s not, that’s okay too.