Madness

So much is happening and going on, but I don’t have the energy for spirit to write it, really. To say it in depth or give it the floorspace it deserves.

Last minute decision I am back studying this year – part-time and as an external student. I am doing a post graduate certificate (part of a Masters) in Learning Support and Inclusive education. Today was my first day (it has a one week full time component) and there were 20 students, of all ages (23-55?). They were a range of highschool, middle school and primary teachers. I was the only Early Childhood teacher in the class. And when our instructor said, "Clear the tables to make a space on the carpet for everyone",

of course ME, the early childhood teacher said, "Oh are we having "carpet time?" as I smiled, and she replied "yes," with a smirk. I promptly sat on the floor to only have her laugh and reply  "not SITTING on the floor, silly, ..STANDING!"

I love the course. But I am battling quite heavily at the moment so many other things going on around me. Like the stress of my parents being concerned about our financial difficulties (and trying to help out without imposing) and my on-going paranoia around food (made even more difficult by being away from the house all day and having to pack every bit of what I would eat, and I still failed because I didn’t have opportunity to eat what I needed at the specific intervals I needed it today and so I was irritable), and we’re moving soon, and Sofie is still a huge stress regarding that (she doesn’t want to move and she is with her Mum right now who is furious about our proposal to move and filling her head with ideas of how horrible and "non-caring" we are as parents to make her move). We tried to involve Sofie in helping us make the decision but it was as a courtesy of getting her input, NOT really that she is an equal decider (or worse yet, the ultimate decider) in whether or not we move. HOwever in our efforts to be good parents Sofie has got the idea that it is HER choice if she moves, and so she says when she sees the place she’ll make her "final decision" on whether or not she wants to move. She had major tantrums for 2 days and threatened to move back with her mother, to which of course her mother encouraged her. Little does Sofie know there would be a long and crippling court battle against that, and she’d be caught in the middle. We know it isn’t in her best interests to be with her Mum, but Sofie seems to think where she lives is her choice, including being the ultimate decider in if we move. As a child she doesn’t have that right, and children these days seem to feel they have power in places they really don’t or shouldn’t. Sigh. I will have to suffer her moods and the period of adjustment WHEN and IF (it is most likely she will come home), and I am NOT LOOKING FORWARD to it. But I will survive. This break from her now, is what I desperately need.

Things with Damien are mostly good. Better than they were,-at Xmas- when we were at breaking point, but still not ideal. I need some assistance, with many many things, and I don’t see the p-doc again until next week, for what will be my only 2nd visit.

I am in crisis with food at the moment, and I am utterly at the mercy of something I cannot explain.

The feelings of wanting to self-harm have returned, with avengence, and it takes 15-20% of my energy each day just to keep from acting on them. I slept on the carpet in the computer room the other night, without even so much as a pillow, just because it wasn’t "right" for me to sleep in a proper bed. When things aren’t "right" in my world, I don’t understand how I can sleep in a bed. When I was younger I used to sleep upside down (head at foot of bed) just to protest that highlight that things "weren’t right". And then with Daniel, I used to sleep on the floor sometimes (and it was a polished wood floor a couple of times so that wasn’t easy), but once Daniel understood he used to sleep beside me on the floor. What a wonderful man.

Damien thought I was being dramatic today when I was lamenting that when we returned home the puppies would jump all over me and knock me over. I was being a bit grumpy that they weren’t calmer so I didn’t get so "attacked". He thought I was being overly pessimistic so he said, "Well, if that’s so bad you might as well sleep in the gutter then". Without thinking I quickly replied, "Well I’d like to, but you’d be mad if I did".

Do you think I HAVEN’T thought about sleeping the gutter? So many times I have, but have always had to ignore the desire because I’d get in trouble if someone (who cared about me) found out.

Sigh.

Later I will scan in a story my little Grade 2/3 girl who I tutor, Sharnie, wrote. I am helping her with reading and writing because she is below the level of her class. So far I’ve tutored her for 2 one-hour lessons. I stayed 1 hr 40 min at each though (for no extra money) and did about 5 hours preparation for the first session, and 3 for the second. I suppose this won’t always be the case because I am building resources and revising my skills in areas that I COULD apply to another student (should one arise). So theoretically my workload will lesson as I progress in my career. I suppose this sounds reasonable but then I also know I am a work-a-holic and an over-giving teacher and over conscientious, so I don’t know. Maybe things WON’T be easier in the future?

I am exhausted but working and tutoring is also keeping me so busy that my mind doesn’t have to be tormented by thoughts (and denials) of food so much. I simply don’t have time to eat much, or spend time thinking about it. Meanwhile I am getting weaker physically, and I am becoming more paranoid about food. I don’t know. I can’t win either way. Although if you want to be perfectly technically correct, I am "winning" the plan or goal in my mind which is to be sick. Pah, does anyone understand what I mean anymore. I don’t know why I bother trying to explain. I am not pro-eating disorder, but I am pro-ME being sick. At least, that is , pro-sick BEFORE I am pro-health. But ultimately I want health. But not without sick first.

I am ending this now because I feel like a fool. A terribly misunderstood one, at that.