Another delayed reaction…or PMS

Today I went to interview for another substitute teacher position. I saw two people from my ‘old’ teaching program. They were very nice, and I was happy to see them, but I nearly wept at my current position. Starting over, to sub.

On the drive home, the urge to cry remained and I was now angry. Angry at the principal. Angry at the corporation that still hasn’t given me my vacation pay. Angry at Ronan. Where the hell did that come from? But yes, angry at him. Angry about gaining TEN POUNDS despite working out three to four times a week for an hour at a time. Angry that the school that wants me full time doesn’t want to pay the full time rates. Angry that they still had the nerve to call me about it. Angry at my friend who is so judgmental towards me. Angry that my job pays so little. Just angry. 

Whew. That's a lot of anger. 

I feel better now that I got that out. I also talked to a friend on the phone who almost made me angry with comments, but I brushed them off and we ended up laughing, so that's good.

I guess I have SOME coping skills. 

Angry Thoughts

NSFW

How is it that I had sex today and I am still in a crabby mood? Why do I have a headache now? I think there are some angry thoughts in my head that I didn’t realize I was thinking and it’s about time I let out those mofos.

First of all, Irish boy, you are a fucking coward. You wouldn’t do anything towards being with me that required you to either get out of bed or get out of your computer chair.

Secondly, Businessman, you are so afraid of commitment that you can’t commit to a one hour block of time for the next day (less than 12 hours away).

Thirdly, Marine and Air Force dudes, just because we had sex twice doesn’t mean I am going to suddenly think we are having a relationship. There’s no need to drop off the face of the planet. I remember reading an article in Cosmo years ago called, “The third date hesitate”. It was talking about how dudes think the third date symbolizes making a commitment and taking the next step in a relationship. Apparently they think that about third time sex, too.

Fourthly, guy I fucked today who shall remain nameless. I had your dick in my mouth today, I think I deserve a little more than a two word email.

I don’t expect a romantic relationship but I expect some common courtesy. Some bit of formality, I guess. Maybe just a touch of politeness?

This is getting old.

I do want a romantic relationship. Not with these dudes. But with someone. I thought finding a fuck buddy in the meantime would be easy peasy and a way to fulfill my sexual desires while I took my time finding Mr. Right. It is instead making me angry. It’s making me a bit bitter towards men and reinforcing this belief I have somewhere in my mind, or that I’ve heard a million times, that they’re all the same. That they want one thing. That when they get that thing from you (two times apparently is the norm) then they want nothing else to do with you. A switch goes off in their brain that says, “Conquered. Move on.” I am just glad that I was not actually dating these guys and thinking that there was the possibility of anything happening. Had I not just been specifically looking for sex and went out on dates and it was dudes just looking to get laid and I gave it up, I’d be crushed.

What I’m annoyed with mostly is the lack of commitment. The only thing we agreed upon was to have sex regularly. That’s it. I wouldn’t have wasted my time and “number” on you if I knew you were going to disappear after two times. I just wanted one dude to fuck on a weekly basis. Then you can send me a two word email or no email, I don’t care. I’m just on edge because I can’t even find a dude to commit to fuck. How in the hell am I supposed to find a boyfriend, or dare I say, a husband?

Yes, looking in the wrong places, etc, I can hear it now. Is it the voices of others I hear or the  voice somewhere deep inside of me and that’s why I’m really angry? 

Being an adult is exhausting

They are filling up the pool in my apartment complex. Yay! Never mind that it just snowed two days ago, I am fricking excited. I love playing in the pool. I didn’t get to play much this last summer because I moved in not long before Labor Day and I worked so much and had class. This summer I want to be different. I want to get my vitamin D from the sun instead of a pill. I want to relax floating in chlorine rather than Epsom salt. I don’t want to work, I want to play.

I have been back to my tired ways lately and I suspected the sleep machine might have something to do with it. I had woken myself up snoring even while wearing the mask. This was new. I tried different sizes of masks, adjusting it different ways, and still daytime fatigue was very much there. I called my sleep dr to ask for a sleep test. I have to see her first, which isn’t until next week. I pressed further asking what I could do in the meantime because it was clear my apnea was not under control. The assistant suggested calling the medical supply company.

Today I call the medical supply company. I finally get hold of a real person who says another real person will call me back. I talk to this person about ten minutes and she finally tells me that according to their records from my machine (data goes in via a modem) everything looks fine. She keeps repeating this and I keep pushing back.  Finally, I ask what the pressure is and she says 12. I said I thought it was supposed to be 11-14 adjusting? She double checks (annoyed) and sees that my prescription says my pressure should be 14. Somehow my machine got set to 12. She quickly apologizes saying she doesn’t know how that happened, but it got changed via the modem. It will be fixed by midnight tonight.

If I wouldn’t have pressed my sleep dr’s assistant for what to do, I wouldn’t have been told to call the medical supply company. If I wouldn’t have pressed the company for my pressure, I wouldn’t have gotten it fixed. I almost didn’t even get to talk to my sleep dr’s assistant because the front desk transferred me to the business office because they had my bill as unpaid. For some reason, they said insurance said I wasn’t covered and blah blah blah, after I INSISTED that I was covered and they finally agreed to double check, they saw that I was and I got the privilege of scheduling an appointment. Mind you, this was talking to various people over two days.

It’s exhausting to type, much less go through day in and day out. That’s why I can’t wait to relax pool side. Preferably with a frozen cocktail in my hand served to me by a hot cabana boy.

But just the pool is fine, too.

Minimization

Therapy depressed me today. The therapist pointed out my use of minimization. I try to make things seem like they're really not that bad. Like being raped at 16 and attacked again at 18 wasn't that big of a deal. That (at least the 16 year old attack) was a blessing in disguise because it changed my personality to be more empathetic and loving. That it kept me out of a volatile relationship.

I thought it was just trying to see the silver lining. Apparently, it's a thing called minimization, where you minimize trauma so that you don't have to deal with it. You think, "It wasn't really that bad." And push it down.

I actually nearly cried today in one on one therapy, which is something I haven't done with this therapist yet. I asked if it was okay or healthy for me to cry when I got home and he said absolutely. Not to deny myself my feelings. I always feel like crying is a bad thing. I get that from my family. But also because crying spells is a symptom of depression. So I talk myself out of it and try to see the good. Try to see that it wasn't so bad. It could have been worse.

Optimist?

No. Minimalist.

Pole Dancing

I tried pole dancing. Twice. My arms hurt.

Pole dancing is offered as a fitness class. It will definitely get the heart rate pumping and not for the reasons you think. It is difficult. I couldn't get my feet off the ground. I was too scared. Kind of how I am in the pool. My feet must be able to touch the ground. But in the pool, I've gotten to the point where I can bring them off the ground...as long as I know I can get them there if need be. Is that a metaphor for my life?

But I digress.

I had fun for the most part, but during the second class I almost started crying because I couldn't do what they were describing. I felt very defeated. I felt like my body was letting me down. I even felt a bit worthless, useless, hopeless.

All because I couldn't pole dance. How is that for irony?

Such a perfect example of negative thinking and how it can grab hold of your brain and derail your emotions. Luckily, this time, it only lasted a few minutes and then I was able to be more objective about the situation.
1.) So what if I can't pole dance. It's not a necessary life skill.
2.) So what if my body isn't built to make pole dancing easy. It probably wouldn't be easy for me if I was thinner, either. Also, I'm here to work on my body.
3.) It's okay to not be able to do or enjoy everything. I love my hip hop dancing way more.
4.) I had the cajones to try it and that is awesome.
5.) I did get a work out.

I've often seen pole dancing  on groupon and living social deals and thought about it. Now I've done it. Check that one off the list. And as I found out that evening at a meetup event, it makes for a great story.

Regret

This is the face of regret. 

Out of the frying pan...

“Why am I even considering this?” I said aloud as I lie in bed with my face in hands. A headache turning into a migraine behind my eyes.

Teaching. Special Ed. Emotional handicap. Middle schoolers. Boys.

No wonder my head hurts.

Today I had a sub assignment at a middle/high school. I knew it was a special ed assignment, that’s the reason I took it. I wanted to see how special ed was done at other schools. Were the classes smaller? Was there an aide? Were the demands on teachers too high?

Yes. Yes. No. (At least from what I could tell)

Despite being an EH class, the day was one of my easiest ones as a teacher or a sub. Mind you there were two other teachers in the room and half the students. And it was a first day.

I knew from the moment I walked in it was an EH class. I started to panic a little when I saw the teacher’s name on the door and it was the teacher I was filling in for. She had her own classroom, not “pushing in” to other classrooms. Frick. I was hoping for an inclusion setting. Easier, another teacher in the room, one on one with student. Then I walked in and saw the other teachers. Whew.

Anyhow, long story short, the principal asked me if I’d like to sub for that class the rest of the year. There won’t be three teachers in the room, only two. Being the teacher in charge is a different ball game than the one I played today. The other teacher was said to be the new teacher for the rest of the year, so I took a back seat. Taking a front seat, the driver’s seat no less, with this group of teenage boys with anger management issues may be more than I am willing to handle.

I know I could do it, just like I did it before. But will I be happy? Will I have migraines? Will I be going out of the frying pan and into the fire?